Tag Archives: Jonathan Evans

MY BEAUTIFUL LAUNDRETTE

★★★

Queen’s Theatre

MY BEAUTIFUL LAUNDRETTE at the Queen’s Theatre

★★★

“pertinent and important, and a visually strong reimagining of an iconic and powerful story”

When Hanif Kureishi’s romantic comedy-drama film was released in 1985 it was swiftly hailed as being a mirror to society at the time, casting a sharp eye on London life in the height of the Thatcher years. It almost had too much to say, but the central focus – of the romance between Omar, a young Pakistani living in London, and street punk, neo-fascist Johnny – still managed to shine through. Kureishi’s adaptation for the stage holds onto that perspective while simplifying the surrounding complexities of race, class, and economic and social upheaval that defined the era.

We are definitely in 80s territory, with bursts of the Pet Shop Boys music linking the scenes, and misogyny and racism vying for supremacy against the cold, concrete backdrop of Grace Smart’s inspired set. The burgeoning romance from across the divide is echoed by Ben Cracknell’s lighting, throwing neon splashes of colour and hope against the bleak reality. This is a dog-eat-dog world in which a modern day, same-sex ‘Romeo and Juliet’ attempt to defy the odds.

Omar (Lucca Chadwick-Patel) is a young British-Pakistani saddled with an alcoholic, disillusioned father (Gordon Warnecke) until brash, ‘loadsamoney’ Uncle Nasser (Kammy Darweish) sets him to work managing his run-down laundrette. In a scuffle with a group of National Front lads, Omar spots old school chum Johnny (Sam Mitchell) who is adrift and hopelessly uncommitted to his Fascist tendencies. They join forces to add the eponymous adjective to the laundrette. The means are dubious, illegal and overflowing with compromise, yet amidst the subterfuge a passionate romance blossoms.

 

 

Despite Kureishi’s rich command of dialogue and monologue, Nicole Behan’s production removes a lot of the plausibility. And despite a strong cast, the collective performance removes most of the poignancy. An overall hesitancy to the acting dampens the dynamics and often strips the lines of feeling. There are exceptions, however, particularly in the second act, when Chadwick-Patel and Mitchell grab their chance to let their talents flicker as Omar confronts Johnny about his fascist past. A beautiful moment that concentrates the pathos, but we wish it could be more evenly distributed throughout the whole play.

Likewise, the inherent comedy is hovering in the wings, not quite brave enough to step onto the stage and announce itself in all its justified glory. As a result, the contrasting danger that underscores the narrative is weakened and it is sometimes difficult to differentiate the two. Johnny’s National Front sidekicks, while intentionally ridiculous, come across as boyish caricatures.

The play depicts an era, but sadly some of the issues are still with us, albeit in different forms in our age of social media. The production captures the essence of its time while still managing to feel contemporary. And the finale is uplifting, with a feel-good factor that pre-empts the progress society has made over the last four decades. That we still have some way to go is skilfully brought out in this production. However it can be argued that the show, too, has still some way to go to fulfil its promise.

It is pertinent and important, and a visually strong reimagining of an iconic and powerful story. The production values are high, but ultimately the stakes are low.


MY BEAUTIFUL LAUNDRETTE at the Queen’s Theatre

Reviewed on 29th February 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Ellie Kurttz

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

WILKO | ★★★★ | February 2024
THE WITCHFINDER’S SISTER | ★★★ | October 2021

MY BEAUTIFUL LAUNDRETTE

MY BEAUTIFUL LAUNDRETTE

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JAB

★★★★

Finborough Theatre

JAB at the Finborough Theatre

★★★★

“a lot is packed into this emotionally raw production”

There are two trains of thought about the pandemic. One that it is still too raw to explore in dramatic form; the other that it is old hat, and nobody wants to hear any more about it. But remember it, we all do. James McDermott has distilled those memories into a unique two-hander that follows the breakdown of a relationship, and of society, in tandem. The personal and the panoramic are mirrored effortlessly and it is impossible to remain unaffected by McDermott’s writing.

Anne (Kacey Ainsworth) and Don (Liam Tobin) are approaching their twenty-ninth anniversary, having long reached the comfort zone of the ‘can’t-live-with-you-can’t-live-without-you’ phase. Affection and irritation go blithely hand in hand; one minute dancing uninhibitedly to the Eurythmics ‘Sweet Dreams’, spilling wine and laughter in equal measure; the next bickering with jabs that often pierce uncomfortably deep.

From the order to ‘stay at home’, we follow the pair through the next twelve months. The pandemic itself is initially a backdrop to the minutiae of a marriage, but inevitably it draws in like a rising tide cutting off any escape route. Director Scott Le Crass keeps the actors within this frame of claustrophobia. Like caged animals they pace, sit, stand. Repetitive and functionless. Don at first feels safe. His vintage shop business wasn’t going so well anyway. Anne is twitchier, forced to work from home instead of being on the NHS frontline. She is tired of being the breadwinner, tired of her hot flushes and tired of “non-essential” Don.

“a compelling black comedy”

Although we know that’s not entirely true. Ainsworth is a master performer, eking out the nuances of her layered character. Each word, gesture and expression ring true. Tobin has a similar grasp of realism. They both make the stark shifts of mood believable. We recognise this couple. We are drawn into their individuality, but it is their inter-dependence that has us in an emotional stranglehold right through to – and especially during – the final scenes.

There are many scenes that take us there. Some short, some long, some dark, some light, some wordy, some silent. Jodie Underwood’s lighting slices between them while Adam Langston’s staccato, filmic music stabs at the transitions with Hitchcockian chill. The lights gradually dim in line with the subject matter as the action unfolds, and the comedy ebbs and makes way for the darker hues.

There is an extraordinary attention to detail. Anne’s password, we learn, is ‘cagedbird’. The transition from drinking from a glass to drinking straight from the bottle. Don tearing up his invitation to be vaccinated. The bursts of the optimistic, upbeat Eurythmic music fade into the scenes on certain lyrics: ‘some of them want to abuse you…’, or ‘when depression starts to win…’. These subtleties add poignancy and potency to Ainsworth’s and Tobin’s already powerful performance.

In a little over an hour, a lot is packed into this emotionally raw production. The words crackle with meaning, but so do the silences. “Jab” is a compelling black comedy. I definitely urge you to catch it (words I probably wouldn’t have chosen during the pandemic).

 


JAB at the Finborough Theatre

Reviewed on 23rd February 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Steve Gregson

 


 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE WIND AND THE RAIN | ★★★ | July 2023
SALT-WATER MOON | ★★★★ | January 2023
PENNYROYAL | ★★★★ | July 2022
THE STRAW CHAIR | ★★★ | April 2022
THE SUGAR HOUSE | ★★★★ | November 2021

JAB

JAB

Click here to see our Recommended Shows page