Tag Archives: Imy Wyatt Corner

DUCK

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Edinburgh Festival Fringe

DUCK at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe

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“a very personal story in the midst of an institutional one, with plenty of humour and compassion throughout”

Duck is vivid in a way few pieces or storytelling, let alone theatre, manage to be. It tells the story of Ismael β€œSmiles” Akhad, a stereotypically insecure and competitive fifteen year old boy whose whole life revolves around cricket. His ambitions are curtailed, however, by racism amongst the ranks of his private school cricket team, both implicit racism, through his manipulative β€œold boy” cricket coach, Mr Eagles, and explicit racism: the bullying and by-standing of his teammates.

Indeed, the fundamental strength of Maatin’s writing, though there are many strengths, is how nuanced, flawed, redeemable and sympathetic Ismael is. β€œSmiley” is a real talent, but he’s fallible; we never actually see him score anything but ducks (a big fat 0). He’s rambunctious, rebellious, resentful, but nevertheless not blind to the sacrifices of his father, who Qasim Mahmood, the sole actor in the play, performs with similarly wonderful joy and depth. Indeed, it’s the relationship between father and son which acts as the spine of the play; they fight, though both just want the other to be happy. They listen to each other. They want to understand each other, even when the teenage brain makes that understandably hard. The love traceable in this relationship despite the complications makes you root hard for their mutual success despite their faults.

In general, the writing is excellent. It’s never poetic but it never needs to be, because honesty and vivid realism is the order of the day and Maatin executes it with near perfection. Indeed, my performance was stopped halfway through for a tech issue, breaking immersion in the most explicit sense, and yet I never felt detached once it restarted, which is a testament to the breadth and colour of the world Maatin creates. It immerses you immediately and permeates; each character so vividly alive that a short incidental interval can’t possibly make them fade.

Furthermore, Mahmood’s acting is as strong as the writing. From the opening β€œHowzaaaaat?”, the energy never dies; even in the powerful, emotional moments, such as when his father elucidates the reality of xenophobia in England, where silences last longer than dialogue, the intensity of the character and the story never dissipates. The directorial pacing (ImyWyatt Corner) and writing can be thanked in part, but the control and energy Mahmood exhibits is just as significant. He never overdoes it, never loses your attention, and though sometimes the emotional development can feel chaotic and discordant, such are the tortures of a teenage brain.

Alongside this direct talent, the use of tech in the show is outstanding; direct, but executed to perfection. Throughout, two imaginary cricket commentators narrate the ups and downs of Ismael’s experience. Voiceovers can often be tacky and messy, but they’re incredibly sharp here, and we sense that Mahmood knows each one of them – their pace, cadence and rhythm – as well as he knows his live lines. The use of duck sound effects (Holly Khan) is tempered but perfectly timed, and the many simple lighting (Jonathan Chan) changes to convey warm summer days, movie nights and classroom monotony is, at risk of sounding like a broken record, executed perfectly.

The show deals with heavy, important themes throughout – micro aggressive and outward racism, institutional prejudice, and the 7/7 bombings – but never becomes didactic, rather treating each issue with the personal perspective they warrant. Its presentation of the β€œboys club” racism is visceral in its distaste, and the isolation Ismael suffers emits equally so. But regardless, Duck manages to tell a very personal story in the midst of an institutional one, with plenty of humour and compassion throughout. It’s a vivid delight, and I recommend it unreservedly


DUCK at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe – Pleasance Courtyard – Beneath

Reviewed on 21st August 2024

by Horatio Holloway

Photography by Isha Shah (from Arcola Theatre production)

 

 


Duck

Duck

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Passing

Passing

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Park Theatre

PASSING at the Park Theatre

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Passing

“Under the direction of Imy Wyatt Corner, Passing delivers an impressively authentic portrayal of nuclear family dynamics”

Your twenties are a time for self-discovery. A time when the world and its opportunities feel open and endless, and it’s up to you to choose, to decide, who and how to be. It can feel like a dislocation from the rigid structure and linear progression of your childhood and teenage years, and the feeling becomes all the more acute when you look, as well as feel, apart from the ordinary.

In Dan Sareen’s new work, Passing, he explores some of these feelings, and how they manifest through Rachel Singh and her family. Rachel (Amy-Leigh Hickman) is a twenty-something living with her parents in an undisclosed, predominantly white area of England searching for identity or sense of belonging. Flung into crisis through the deterioration of her grandfather’s health, she realises that she knows or has experienced little North-Indian culture that is part of her heritage and so seeks to throw her family’s first, and perhaps her Grandfather’s final, Diwali celebration.

The play follows the Singh family and Rachel’s boyfriend Matt, along for the ride, on this day almost in real time, functioning almost as a sort of socratic dialogue between the family members, exploring what it means to be British-Indian. The play naturally cycles characters on and off stage, allowing each combination of characters to have their own in depth discussion and show the depth of their character and emotions. Each combination of characters has a moment together. All set in the Singh’s living room, the set could be any living room in middle England, all pine wood furniture, inoffensive landscape prints adorning the walls and the Steve Jobs biography in the bookcase. Under the direction of Imy Wyatt Corner, Passing delivers an impressively authentic portrayal of nuclear family dynamics, instantly familiar through their quick shifts between jibes and supportive warmth.

“an intelligently written, passionately performed work”

Yash (Bhasker Patel) is the patriarch who emigrated to the UK at six years old and is more interested in Led Zeppelin than Ravi Shankar. Ruth (Catherine Cusack) is the white British mother who just wants everyone to get along and clearly feels guilty for having deprived her children of their Indian heritage that they now desire. David (Kishore Walker) is the disaffected son who is intent on challenging his father and who says himself his only role in the family is to be flippant – receiving a few knowing laughs from the audience. Matt (Jack Flamminger) is the too sweet boyfriend going out of his way to make a good impression for his girlfriend’s parents and for Rachel herself, providing plenty of light relief.

Amy-Leigh Hickman is brash and headstrong as Rachel, the central figure of the play. However, to a degree this demeanour, which verges on petulance at times, belies her inner turmoil and confusion over who she is and how she should be in the world. As a daddy’s girl – she is eager to learn more about her father’s upbringing in India, but her dogged pursuit of the missing link between the way she is perceived by others as Indian, as β€˜other’, and her own cultural touchstones which are more British than Indian, often comes at the expense of her empathy towards her mother and partner. It’s intentionally uncomfortable theatre – with the collision between generational and racial views cringe inducing at times. But it’s authentic; there’s no dramatic plot twists, no real events of note. Just the conversations between a relatively ordinary family that could be replicated 100-fold all across the country.

In trying to replicate that family gathering feeling there are some directorial choices that don’t quite land. For such a small studio theatre, the choice to have overlapping conversations at once doesn’t quite work as no one conversation predominates – all we get is hubub. Similarly playing the records Yash likes and dislikes, means it’s a strain to hear the dialogue over it.

That being said, Passing is an intelligently written, passionately performed work that fairly and in a nuanced way reflects experiences of mixed-race families in Britain today.

 


PASSING at the Park Theatre

Reviewed on 6th November 2023

by Amber Woodward

Photography by Matt Martin

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

The Interview | β˜…β˜…β˜… | November 2023
It’s Headed Straight Towards Us | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | September 2023
Sorry We Didn’t Die At Sea | β˜…β˜…Β½ | September 2023
The Garden Of Words | β˜…β˜…β˜… | August 2023
Bones | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | July 2023
Paper Cut | β˜…β˜…Β½ | June 2023
Leaves of Glass | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | May 2023
The Beach House | β˜…β˜…β˜… | February 2023
Winner’s Curse | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | February 2023
The Elephant Song | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | January 2023

Passing

Passing

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