Tag Archives: Simon Rivers

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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Pyar Actually – 4 Stars

Pyar

Pyar Actually

Theatre Royal Stratford East

Reviewed – 15th May 2018

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“While the core ideas and questions of this piece were extremely interesting, they were at times a little overshadowed by unnecessary extras”

 

There are few pieces of theatre that manage to both approach and reasonably explore questions of life, death, personal and cultural identity, marriage and family all whilst managing to keep up a light exterior, but Pyar Actually at the Theatre Royal Stratford East seems to have cracked this rare formula. Written by and starring Sukh Ojla, this production tackles the complexities of life as a married woman, haunted by ghosts of what could have been. It would be easy for a show like this to become heavy or even a bit melancholy, but this is carefully avoided. I came away with the sense that there’s no point in sadness, because this is just life, with all its natural ups and downs.

One of the many unique elements of this piece is that it is essentially bilingual. Characters address each other, as well as the audience, in a mixture of English and Punjabi. Undeniably, the use of both alongside one another brings more depth; an insult in Punjabi could lose some of its meaning when translated, so why not just keep it in Punjabi? But don’t worry – bilingualism is far from being a prerequisite, the story still makes perfect sense if you just follow the English. Some of this show’s most interesting moments lie in its discussion of the links between language and identity. Bali’s efforts to learn Punjabi are an undisguised effort to connect to his roots and family history, but also to be able to engage with the language in the same easy and incidental way that Polly does.

While the core ideas and questions of this piece were extremely interesting, they were at times a little overshadowed by unnecessary extras. The incremental transformation of the backdrop from grey into a sunset was nice, but didn’t really add anything. Additionally, a couple of Simon Rivers’ (Bali) lines fell somewhat flat, which seemed odd considering the otherwise high quality of his performance.

The simple but effective staging worked well with the nature of the piece, but the stakes of the story itself sometimes felt a little unnaturally high. If the same simplicity applied to the narrative as well as the design, some elements of the story may have felt considerably less sidelined.

All in all, this is a lovely piece of theatre. It doesn’t shy away from some slightly harsh realities, and clearly isn’t scared of them either.

 

Reviewed by Grace Patrick

Photography by George Torode

 

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Pyar Actually

Theatre Royal Stratford East until 19th May

 

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