Written by Saher Shah
Directed by Melina Namdar
By Hamza Jahanzeb, 18.09.24
As a British Pakistani, the idea of showcasing a play about divorce – a relatively taboo topic in south asian diaspora communities – I was intrigued with what Vitamin D was going to present me with. In my family, the act of a divorce between two consenting adults is perceived to be a terrible act of shame upon both parties (families) due to ‘log kya kahenge‘ (what are people going to say?). In fact, I clearly remember what the reaction of my late mother was with regards to a cousin getting a talaaq (divorce). It’s considered the worst thing to happen to a family due to the nature of gossiping, and supposed ‘honour’ being tainted by an unruly child(ren) of either of the parties involved by act of marriage.
In this piece, the lead protagonist Larki is and has just had a divorce. To her community, it’s seen as a total tragedy.
She’s facing opinions, questions and smothering love (sometimes overstepping nosiness from friends, family, aunties and “BFF’s”). It seems that Larki is searching for something, she just hasn’t quite figured out what yet. Following a UK tour, Vitamin D is touted as a piece that ‘looks at the changing relationships between women, complexities of emotional crises, British South Asian culture and the stigma of divorce.’
To begin, the plot centring an amateur poet felt like it was so overwrought and used at the expense of our community with no real desire to expand on what it means to share diaspora poetry. Larki, played by the writer of this piece (Saher Shah), moves from her former marital home in Manchester back home to her parents’ home in Pinner, northwest London. The inclusion of one white actor to be the butt of jokes reminded me of the Tik Tok humour that attempts to validates the experiences of British-born South Asians. It didn’t add, or detract from the piece. I felt indifferent to this white character who pronounced ‘Halal’ in a funny Essex accent, but I just felt as though the comedy wasn’t original given the fierce competition to make fun of the insensitive white friend (à la Sally in HR). The writing did, at times, seem regressive in a way Citizen Khan felt to may people.
Despite some mixed performances, the stand-outs in the acting department were Anshula Bain and Ambit Sharma as ‘Bestie’ and a fellow ‘Larki’ who also got divorced. In fact, I’d love a show on the Bestie and her with the protagonist. Leave the aunties out! Renu Brindle plays the mother character, and Zyna Goldy is a flashy ‘Aunty’ we all know. Both of these characters, I feel, were written for the women who have elements of their annoyances. But to a wider audiences, it felt like it was a cheap shot at the respect on out aunties. Yes, they do nag to get married next but Na.dar’s direction here failed to make them anything but one-dimensional.
Overall, whilst it hits my hunger for authentic portrayal on the stage, it was simply too long and with a very simple staging that could well have been enhancing of the script. The set design felt blandly boring, despite the set up in the lead up looking desirably colourful. The boxes which the actors used didn’t add to the piece, but felt awkwardly positioned.
This show is also let down by an uneven structure and with too much of a scope trying to be covered; in short, the writers intentions are never fully is realised. It did, fail to pop a Vitamin D shot for me. As a show on a central London stage renowned for Queer theatre, it is so good to have this topic explored but truly a missed opportunity given that the characters are written as extreme caricatures that made me cringe at the best of times. Further, the inclusion of LGBT+ community to be a butt of a joke made it ironic given the venue is Queer. The writing makes a good attempt to sparkle but isn’t consistently on the money nor up to scratch with Soho Theatre’s regular programming.
Quite frankly, the best bits are the top and tail of this production. Coupled with Anshula Bain and Ambika Sharma’s acting. The in-between ‘lack-of-plot’ sections are far too long, and not focused. The poetry, or the plight of the poet as a plot device felt excessive, and not needed. Almost deliberately confused with regards what the writer intends to showcase here: whether the plight of going through a divorce, or speaking up as a wannabe poet. The meandering of this cause, showcases lack of direction of the play’s written structure. It emphasises and means the dialogue is forced, contrived and clichéd.
Further, scene changes felt rushed and jarred with my understanding of moving the (lack of) plot along. I was reminded of A-Level theatre pieces my peers a the time and I created, but instead with a bigger budget given the superb light rigging and effects. There’s a veneer that felt like it needed cracking as the play couldn’t secure what it was: a slapstick comedy or a naturalistic theatre play.
Handing out of sweets at the start (I.e breaking the fourth wall) was a nice touch, but I was unfortunately groaning after a while at what appeared to be the hyper feminised cartoon-esque portrayal of older women, and the repetitive nature of the jokes.
If anything, I’d love to have seen some balance, re-working of the piece and ultimately, nuance; whilst all-female casts are to be commended, this show was a missed opportunity to display friendship, support networks and the meaningful conversations around the toxicity surrounding divorce in conservative communities.
Until 21 September 2024: https://sohotheatre.com/events/vitamin-d/
**N.B. This is an honest review, in exchange for a gifted / complimentary ticket. The reviewer has written this with their editorial control, with no external influence on how to frame the show. #AdvertisementFeature #PRInvite #Gifted #ad **