Tag Archives: Max Johns

The P Word

The P Word

★★★

Bush Theatre

THE P WORD at the Bush Theatre

★★★

The P Word

“To see the moments of queer joy that are portrayed here is truly a pleasure”

 

The P Word, written by Waleed Akhtar, finds itself caught in the space between a two hander and a series of monologues. The play remains grounded, however, by its layered character and their wit.

Bilal, played by Akhtar, details to the audience his experiences as a British Pakistani man in the gay dating scene. He lets his prejudices, fatphobia and islamophobia in particular, be known early on, as well as sources of their internalization. Zafar, played by Esh Alladi, arrives onstage mid-trauma: engaged in an unsuccessful bid to seek asylum in the UK, his partner murdered, his life endangered by a homophobic father were he to be deported to Pakistan. The play only kicks into gear, however, when the two characters bump into one another in the middle of Soho during Pride.

The set, designed by Max Johns, is minimal and elegant. A raised, circular, rotating platform, carries the characters temporally through the play. Each half of the platform tilts in the opposite direction, and LED light illuminates the outline of each semicircle, enclosing Bilal and Zafar in their disparate experiences for the first half of the play. Small compartments built into the set facilitate quick changes, allowing both actors to remain onstage for the duration of the play. These transitions, however, can feel rushed, more marked than they are performed.

Before Bilal and Zafar meet, they communicate exclusively in parallel monologue. Most of the unseen characters in Zafar monologues—a stranger, his mother, a healthcare worker—make their presence known through voiceover. Akhtar steps outside of Bilal’s character with more regularity, voicing his hookups and co-workers, lending his monologues the quality of a one-person show. This particular directorial choice by Anthony Simpson-Pike could be intended to further distinguish Bilal and Zafar’s narratives, but it results in a garbled theatrical language. The formal discrepancy, along with the duration of the parallel monologue sections, lends a dragging and uneven quality to the first half of the play, despite strong performances from Akhtar and Alladi.

Even after Bilal and Zafar have had their chance encounter and begin to share scenes, these parallel monologues persist. The two characters frequently break from engaging moments of dialogue to speak directly to the audience, halting the pace of the second half. The P Word finds its emotional core within the extended and mostly uninterrupted scenes between Bilal and Zafar. Bilal confronts his internalized prejudices, while Zafar begins to heal from the murder of his partner, Haroon. These scenes are both tender and emotionally fraught, blissfully banal and high stakes. To see the moments of queer joy that are portrayed here is truly a pleasure.

In The P Word’s final moments, following a somewhat sensationalized and romanticized conclusion, the world of the play briefly cracks. Though the break seems to be inspired by works such as Jackie Sibblies Dury’s ‘Fairview’, it reads more like an admission than it does a true confrontation, inadvertently letting the audience and performance off the hook.

 

 

Reviewed on 14th September 2022

by JC Kerr

Photography by Craig Fuller

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

 

Favour | ★★★★ | June 2022
Lava | ★★★★ | July 2021

 

Click here to read all our latest reviews

 

Rust
★★★★

Bush Theatre

Rust

Rust

Bush Theatre

Reviewed – 1st July 2019

★★★★

 

“Foster and Lams communicate this physical and emotional closeness with heartbreaking conviction”

 

Everybody needs a little escape from the ordinariness of life once in a while. But how long do you get until life starts to creep back in?

Nadia and Daniel are just starting out together. They’re at the good bit, at the beginning when everything is fun and exciting; they’re kind to each other, they feel passionately about one another. And they’re both married. Rather than telling the story of the people waiting at home, Kenny Emson takes the road less travelled and instead explores the emotional toll for those within the affair.

From the very beginning this relationship is doomed to beget pain and anguish. Even as Nadia and Daniel agree on eleven rules (“one better than God”) in order to protect themselves, they almost immediately start breaking them. But what is most touching and unusual about this story is the palpable affection they have for one another. We know that both parties have oblivious partners and innocent children; that they’re constantly lying to the people they love, but somehow, we’re still rooting for them.

Stripping it back to a pile of pillows and a few neon lights, Eleanor Rhode’s direction leans mostly on good story-telling and strong performances from both Jon Foster (Daniel) and Claire Lams (Nadia). We’re privy to the kinds of unabashed conversations you’d have only in the seclusion of the bedroom, but Foster and Lams communicate this physical and emotional closeness with heartbreaking conviction.

That being said, the design (Max Johns) is deceptively simple, the white stack of pillows providing a hiding place for multiple small but instrumental accessories to the narrative. Neon lighting (Jess Bernberg) hanging vertically serves to alter the mood drastically throughout the play, taking us from candle-lit intimacy to bare-bulb severity.

Though the entire story takes place in a small one-bed flat, the narrative scope is huge. An understated tragedy, beautifully written and well executed.

 

Reviewed by Miriam Sallon

Photography by Helen Murray

 


Rust

Bush Theatre until 27th July

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:
Class | ★★★★ | May 2019
Strange Fruit | ★★★★ | June 2019

 

Click here to see more of our latest reviews on thespyinthestalls.com