Tag Archives: Rina Fatania

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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The Art of Illusion

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Hampstead Theatre

THE ART OF ILLUSION at the Hampstead Theatre

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The Art of Illusion

“This is true ensemble playing, where no one actor is the lead, but where each actor plays every part as though it were a starring role”

 

There are many illusions at work in the wonderful Art Of Illusion by Alexis Michalik, and you will enjoy watching this tale of magic tricks unfold. Waleed Akhtar’s lively translation of the French original, together with brilliant ensemble work by the actors under the direction of Tom Jackson Greaves, means the playing time of one hundred minutes flies by. It helps, too, that the production is staged in the more intimate Hampstead Theatre downstairs. It’s a space ideally suited for a play that has to be seen in close up by the audience, to succeed. The flexibility of the space allows a cast of characters from different times and places to constantly change right in front of your eyes β€” a sort of magic all by itself. And oh yes β€” let’s not forget the sounds of high stakes soccer matches that are a constant background to the action. On more than one occasion, it’s soccer that literally saves the day for our intrepid magicians in this play.

Soccer and magic tricks? What kind of a story is Michalik telling in The Art Of Illusion? We begin by thinking it’s an unlikely love story between a lover of mathematics who has come to believe in fate, and a petty thief who has stolen her bag. When December decides, on a whim, to return the stolen bag to April (yes, those really are their names) an extraordinary story unfolds. A Watchmaker is presiding over a tale that goes back several hundred years and connects seemingly unconnected people. What starts as a random encounter between two people turns out to be anything but. And as part of the magic of The Art of Illusion, this is also a story about how magic morphs into the tricks of early film making. We get to see how one Georges MΓ©liΓ¨s uses his knowledge of stage magic to produce film magic. And that’s just one intriguing tale told by this medley of extraordinary characters who begin as traveling conjurers and mutate into inventors of film. The biggest trick of all is watching how Michalik weaves his stories of 1776, 1828, 1871,1984 and 2000 together. Watching The Art Of Illusion is to marvel at the way in which the dramatist, as conjuror of time, mixes and matches all these different periods together while still moving the action forward. It’s ultimately all a gigantic act of illusion, starting with the magic tricks the actors perform to get the audience warmed up, to the way in which they transform from character to character. These character changes, often across gender and time periods, embody the same kind of effortless legerdemain in the acting, as the playwright manifests in his script.

There’s a lot, dramaturgically speaking, packed into The Art Of Illusion. The whole thing succeeds because every part of this production has been so carefully crafted, and fits together so well. Jackson Greaves has done sterling work in the direction and staging of this clever and engaging script, ably assisted by designer Simon Kenny. Matt Haskins and Yvonne Gilbert do great work with the lighting and sound, and there’s an β€œIllusion Consultant” (Ben Hart) on hand to assist with getting the magic tricks right. But the lion’s share of praise should go to the actors. Rina Fatania, Bettrys Jones, Martin Hyder, Norah Lopez Holden, Brian Martin and Kwaku Mills keep up a relentless pace, yet each character they portray is so clearly defined. This is true ensemble playing, where no one actor is the lead, but where each actor plays every part as though it were a starring role. The closest anyone comes to stealing a scene is probably Rina Fatania, whose portrayal of a mouthy fifteen year old video game player, is a great conclusion to the dazzling tapestry of characters in this play.

The Art Of Illusion is playing now at the Hampstead Theatre Downstairs until January 28th. Don’t miss it.

 

 

Reviewed on 3rd January 2023

by Dominica Plummer

Photography by Robert Day

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

 

The Two Character Play | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | July 2021
Big Big Sky | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | August 2021
Night Mother | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | October 2021
The Forest | β˜…β˜…β˜… | February 2022
The Fever Syndrome | β˜…β˜…β˜… | April 2022
The Breach | β˜…β˜…β˜… | May 2022
The Fellowship | β˜…β˜…β˜… | June 2022
Mary | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | October 2022
Blackout Songs | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | November 2022
Sons of the Prophet | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | December 2022

 

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