Tag Archives: Kev McCurdy

THE BUDDHA OF SUBURBIA

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Barbican

THE BUDDHA OF SUBURBIA at the Barbican

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“a high-spirited, multi-coloured and absolutely joyous interpretation”

Written thirty years ago and set half a century ago, Hanif Kureishi’s β€œThe Buddha of Suburbia” still contains a lot that is still true about Britain today. In Emma Rice’s adaptation (co-adapted by Kureishi) the reality is expressed through comedy and, like all the best fables, the seriousness of the message hits hardest when delivered in kid gloves. A β€˜rite of passage’ story, it is part fairy tale and part social realism. Directed by Rice, too, it has slightly less of the creative chaos that is usually on offer, resulting in a beautifully slick production; but is still packed with magic, joy and the anarchic fun that has become her trademark.

If there is any doubt about the setting (though Rachana Jadhav’s authentic set design and Vicki Mortimer’s period costume should instantly quell them), the protagonist, anti-hero and narrator – Karim – immediately sets us straight. It is the eve of Thatcher’s rise to power and Karim introduces himself to the audience with an assured swagger that belies someone still trying to find their feet. Dee Ahluwalia, as Karim, mirrors those qualities with an ease and stage presence that belie his experience. A lithe figure, he guides us on his journey with a clarity of storytelling that casts out any need to be familiar with the original novel.

He whisks us back further to 1976 and into the bosom of his extended, mixed-race family. Karim is desperate to escape suburbia, although by the looks of things there is plenty going on in his neck of the woods. Sex is available on tap, it seems, but I guess he’s looking for something deeper. Cue his headlong dive into the world of theatre, for which the words β€˜frying pan’ and β€˜fire’ come to mind. Beneath the social commentary, it is the characterisation that brings the show to rich, colourful life. With some multi-rolling and swift doubling up, the impressive ensemble cast portray a host of exuberant, eccentric personalities whom we grow to love despite – or because of – their flaws. All of them are caricatures, but all have a striking individuality.

Karim’s father Haroon (the acrobatic Ankur Bahl) is a Muslim from Bombay who has turned to Buddhist teachings as a means to seduce the hippy housewives of Southeast London. Katy Owen plays the hard-done-by wife. Owen reappears as aspiring actress Eleanor, hilariously pretentious, upper-middle class but wanting to β€˜get down’ with the common people. We meet Matthew Pyke, the theatre director from Hell. A lot of fun is had during the rehearsal scenes which are a master class in parody. The shagging and the shenanigans, mainly expressed through slap-and-tickle use of bananas and melons, start to get a bit limp through repetition. Thankfully, though, the acute character observations hit home more than the party-popper punchlines. Karim has escaped his roots, but his yearning to retrace his steps brings us full circle. Meanwhile, childhood friend and nymphomaniac, Jamila, has been married off to arranged husband Changez (Simon Rivers in brilliant self-deprecating form); while Karim’s first crush, Charlie (a tongue in cheek Tommy Belshaw), has achieved rock star success and made the move to LA… and tragedy. Uncle Anwar and Aunt Jeeta are still getting by at the grocery stall, until Anwar pops his clogs and Jeeta finds a new lease of life (Rina Fatania gives a star performance in a flourish of irreverent self-parody and comic timing).

It is all pinned together with a pulsing soundtrack that takes in the Bee Gees, T. Rex, The Velvet Underground, Bill Withers and Joni Mitchell – among many others. A perfect mixtape that could have been whisked out of a Ford Capri’s cassette player. But beneath the party atmosphere, the darker undercurrents start to slip through – especially in the second act. Racism and violence crescendo from their background drone to become an explicit comment in the narrative. It is evocatively staged, but somehow the reality of its menace doesn’t quite break out of the party mood. Perhaps because all too quickly the show plunges back into celebratory mode with a hastily assembled, feel-good finale.

β€œBuddha of Suburbia” is a collaboration with the Royal Shakespeare Company, but it seems that Emma Rice has been calling the shots. It is a high-spirited, multi-coloured and absolutely joyous interpretation, that Kureishi is obviously proud of. The Rice magic still sparkles and dazzles, and we leave the theatre with a bounce in our step and a 120bpm inner rhythm coaxing us to raise our arms and punch the air. A terrific night at the theatre.


THE BUDDHA OF SUBURBIA at the Barbican

Reviewed on 30th October 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Steve Tanner

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

KISS ME, KATE | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | June 2024
LAY DOWN YOUR BURDENS | β˜…β˜…β˜… | November 2023

THE BUDDHA OF SUBURBIA

THE BUDDHA OF SUBURBIA

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Red Pitch

Red Pitch

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Bush Theatre

RED PITCH at the Bush Theatre

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Red Pitch

“It bubbles with slang and a million references a second”

Red Pitch is back at The Bush to much fanfare. The first time around it sold out, won awards, and received great critical acclaim. It’s easy to see why. It’s a powerhouse of a play, and refreshingly rooted in its time and place.

The show follows three boys Omz (Francis Lovehall) Bilal (Kedar Williams-Stirling, now of Sex Education fame) and Joey (Emeka Sesay) who play football together, and dream of being scouted, even as their neighbourhood is uprooted around them.

It’s a play about gentrification, and the way that communities are being torn up, the souls of areas being scrubbed away and replaced with generic chain stores and luxury housing. But it’s told through these boys’ eyes, so the developers are β€˜renewing endz’ and much of the discussion circles around the shutting of a favourite chicken shop. They’re charmingly innocent. It’s fresh, but it’s still angry.

Tyrell Williams’ script is fantastic. It bubbles with slang and a million references a second, building these teens up into completely believable characters. There’s no question of who these boys are, or where they’re from. In many ways the boys are very similar, but they have very different home lives, as well as different religions and levels of affluence. They’re united by their shared dream of becoming professional football players.

Daniel Bailey’s direction is dynamic and energetic. Footballs are dribbled across the stage – there’s a shockingly intense fight (directed by Kev McCurdy), which has the audience wincing and groaning. The performance is in the round, with the stage becoming a football pitch and each block of audience as part of the stands, there is fencing and barriers between us and the performers. There are flashing lights, like at a stadium (designed by Ali Hunter). Amelia Jane Hankin’s set is bare, it’s an empty pitch. This works very well, it keeps us connected to the action, but also gives a sense of voyeurism. We are watching, and to an extent enjoying, these boys’ struggle, which is especially powerful when they are unaware of the severity of what they’re discussing.

There’s a genuine tenderness between the boys, hidden beneath layers of ribbing and banter. It’s a beautiful connection to watch develop. All three performers are very strong. Sesay’s Joey, is the most anxious of the three. He offers up backup plans in case they’re not scouted, and is the most affected by the change in β€˜endz’. Sesay deftly switches between the anxious young man, and joyous teen. Williams-Stirling as Bilal is focussed entirely on the football, but his range is strong, giving us moving moments of pause and dramatic moments of comedy. Lovehall’s Omz is the joker of the gang, but also has the hardest home life. Lovehall effortlessly portrays the struggle to keep things afloat and to keep the mask of nonchalance in place.

There are moments where this fast-paced play does lose momentum. It meanders along, enjoyably, but at times a little slowly. There are movement elements, which show the boys’ aspirations, but feel incongruous with the gritty realism of the rest of the piece.

Overall though, it’s a very special play. The characters it explores are rarely seen on stage, and it’s moving to watch.


RED PITCH at the Bush Theatre

Reviewed on 11th September 2023

by Auriol Reddaway

Photography by Helen Murray

 


 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

 

Paradise Now! | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | December 2022
The P Word | β˜…β˜…β˜… | September 2022
Favour | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | June 2022
Lava | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | July 2021

Red Pitch

Red Pitch

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