“Omar Bynon is charismatic and charming as Ismail”
The play follows Ismail throughout the summer of 2005 revelling in his excitement to become the youngest batsman ever to play for the first XI cricket team at his elite public school. However, things don’t quite go to plan when a new coach takes over who seems to take an immediate dislike to Ismail. Whilst the significance of 2005 may be immediately apparent to England cricket fans, what may be less immediately obvious is that this was also the year of the 7/7 bombings, a turning point in the way Muslims and south-Asian people were seen and treated in the UK. Setting the play over this summer provides a unique backdrop for exploring racism in the sport.
Duck’s run at the Arcola Theatre is timely. It aligns with this year’s Ashes, held in the UK just as they were in 2005. More poignantly, opening night coincided with the release of a much-anticipated report into institutional racism in cricket – precipitated by former Yorkshire cricket player Azeem Rafiq’s allegations against the club and whose emotional testimony at a select committee hearing in 2021 made national headlines. Parts of the script almost directly reference this testimony, particularly related to arguments often made by those using racial slurs that it’s just ‘banter’.
Despite this heavy subject matter, the writing is peppered with humour throughout. Duck’s writer, maatin, focuses on Muslim storytelling and says much of the play is based on his own experiences. The script feels authentic to both the worlds Ismail occupies, that of public-school boys and his Indian family at home, and astutely captures the vernacular used in the two.
Omar Bynon is charismatic and charming as Ismail, bringing the audience in from the off with a toss of the ball into the crowd with a decent amount of spin, deftly instructed by movement director Hamza Ali. It’s an energetic performance, requiring Bynon to play not just Ismail but his father, best friend and the new cricket team coach, as well as voicing two commentators that act as a Greek chorus. Bynon’s only respite comes towards the end when real people voice the impact the 7/7 bombings had on their lives – a powerful interlude that drives the plays message home.
The set and costume design (Maariyah Sharjil) are beautifully presented. A central patch of astroturf, complete with wicket, bat, and red test ball, act as an anchor for the set, whilst either side hanging drapes are backdrops for bespoke, illustrated projections which transport the action from the cricket pavilion to the duck pond. On one side, the script is projected for accessibility. This also helps to distinguish between the characters the lead flips between where this is not always clear.
Despite being overtly a play about cricket, you don’t need to know much about the sport to enjoy this play. Yes, there are plenty of ‘in’ jokes about models of cricket bats, former players, and commentators to keep cricket fans chuckling throughout. But at its heart, Duck is a coming-of-age tale of the adolescent realisation that the safe and simple world you think you know is not all it appears. Not all figures of authority will look out for your best interests. Biases mean that pure talent is not always appreciated. As affectingly put by Ismail, cricket may be a team sport but really, it’s just you and the bowler out there.
THE SOLID LIFE OF SUGAR WATER at the Orange Tree Theatre
★★★★★
“Both Katie Erich and Adam Fenton are immaculately cast. Initially seeming a strange match, they grow in strength as a couple before our very eyes”
In the programme, before any cast information or plot summary, Dr Michelle Tolfrey talks us through how best to support a friend who has lost a baby. Because of course, it’s such a fragile, awful situation in which, as she says, “you feel terrified of every word you say.” And despite the frequency of the tragedy in this country (director India Lown-Collins says that there were 2,597 stillbirths in the UK in 2021) we don’t really talk about it, because it feels so impossible to begin the conversation.
In this case, it begins with the least sexy sex scene- “Neither of us has washed in weeks”- both in thick knits and woolly socks, and using pillows and bed sheets to demonstrate physical intimacy, despite being only centimetres away from each other. One might easily mistake this for a comedy.
But this awkward, silly scene continues, spliced throughout, first in the telling of how Alice and Phil met, through their courting, to the first years of marriage, and finally to the pregnancy, and its premature termination. Suddenly this sex scene is not so funny, and the reason it’s not sexy is also the reason that despite how horribly awkward and seemingly unpleasant it appears to be, they insist on carrying on. Because at some point, they have to try to carry on.
I’m sorry I’ve told you the whole plot, but it doesn’t really matter. You already know where this is going as soon as you hear the subject, and ultimately it becomes a matter of degrees of tragedy: After something so awful happening to a young couple, can they make it through together?
Both Katie Erich and Adam Fenton are immaculately cast. Initially seeming a strange match, they grow in strength as a couple before our very eyes. Fenton’s enthusiasm and earnestness counters Erich’s bold forthrightness, and both are unafraid to show their innards without warranting much explanation. In fact, this is a theme of Jack Thorne’s play, that we are so entirely within the heart of the tragedy that lengthy explanation is superfluous.
Both leads have disabilities, but this is only worth mentioning because it’s near entirely irrelevant, except to say that director Indiana Lown-Collins has humbled the West End in their lack of inclusivity, showing how utterly immaterial disability is to quality of performance.
Ica Niemz’ design isn’t wholly unexpected, mostly taken up by a big bed that is made and unmade throughout. But it feels completely fitting for a story that, despite taking place largely in other rooms- hospital, cinema, gallery, post office- is always circling the marital bed.
Thorne has found a way to speak the unspeakable, with so much humour and humanity, my heart still hurts thinking about it the next morning.
