Romeo & Hamed is a bold, queer reinterpretation of Romeo and Juliet, told in lyrical verse and set in contemporary Croydon. We sat down for an exclusive interview with Romeo & Hamed’s writer Scott Horgan, talks about the mammoth task of re-imagining Shakespeare, and creating an exciting and authentic world for his characters to play in.
This show runs from 2nd – 6th September at Riverside Studios. Tickets are available here.
Romeo & Hamed draws on one of the most familiar love stories in theatre but relocates it to contemporary Croydon. What did Shakespeare’s original allow you to explore about queer love, faith and family that a completely new story might not have?
Using the framework of Romeo & Juliet allowed me to write a story that takes huge, dramatic and emotional swings, that I don’t know would have been as plausible if we weren’t working in the world of Shakespeare. It also allows audiences in from the get-go and sets the audience up so they have an understanding of what this might be, while also allowing to be completely surprised.
The play is written in “relentless, lyrical verse.” How did you create a language that echoes Shakespeare without making two young men in modern Croydon sound removed from their own world?
I tried to incorporate as much alternating rhyme at the end of lines as possible, and anytime anyone spoke in sonnets, we followed the rules laid out in the form. Other than that, I didn’t want to box myself in. The characters are quick with language in their own unique ways, and it was never about trying to mimic Shakespeare at all (I don’t think he ever used words like ‘halluci-fuckin-jaculation’!). It was more about bringing that same rhythm and lyricism into modern language that I use with my mates, in a way that felt authentic to these characters and the world they’re living in.
Romeo and Hamed’s relationship challenges expectations surrounding sexuality, religion and family loyalty. How did you avoid reducing their communities to obstacles while still confronting the pressures placed upon them?
This was the biggest thing for me! Acknowledging the struggles these communities face, while also trying to say something new. For me, it was essential to keep digging and keep asking difficult questions. This is where the community workshops were absolutely integral because you have those tough conversations and you learn so much! As a gay man, I have my own experience of some of those struggles, but I also know that the experience of a queer Muslim person is much more complex and specific than I could ever assume. I wanted to excavate that while also showing that these are multifaceted human beings who are so much more than just their sexuality, religion, socioeconomic background etc.
The production was developed in consultation with LGBTQIA+ Muslim voices, cultural consultants and community organisations. Can you describe how those conversations changed the script or challenged some of your original assumptions?
The biggest take away from me was that they had to be the ones who told that aspect of the story. I really am just the middle man who has taken these lived experiences, stories and anecdotes and put them to paper. I cannot take credit for them at all! I think the earlier drafts of the script lacked that first-hand experience and the nuances that come from lived experience that I couldn’t have understood without those conversations. The queer Muslim people and organisations we spoke to were incredibly generous in sharing their individual experiences and perspectives. It’s been one of the greatest gifts of this experience, getting to know these people and their generosity in sharing their experiences with us to inform this story. I am so grateful to them all.
The play began as a 30-minute work-in-progress before becoming a 140-minute production with seven actors. What did that expansion allow you to discover about the characters and their families—and what proved hardest to develop?
The hardest part about developing this into a full length play was finding the right balance between Romeo and Hamed’s relationship and Hamed’s relationship with his faith. I didn’t want this to be another sad story of a young man suffering at the hands of his religion, rejected by his family, who then seeks validation from a non-Muslim, straight white man who gives him the strength to accept his authentic self. Absolutely not! Hamed never denounces his religion, and Romeo only ever celebrates the teachings of Islam and the quotes he discovers. He’s really opened up to the beauty of the religion through Hamed. Hamed’s relationship with his faith and his sexuality was something we approached with enormous care. It’s a difficult line to walk because you want to portray the conflict authentically without suggesting that his faith itself is the obstacle, while also not shying away from the difficult stuff.
This is your debut play, yet it takes on Shakespeare, queer identity, Islam, tragedy and accessibility all at once. Was that scale intimidating, or did being a first-time playwright give you the freedom to be completely fearless?
I think the scale was what made it so exciting! As a writer, you need something that lights a fire up your arse so you write 30 different drafts of the same story. There was so much about this story (the characters, the language, the drama, the sexual elements) that I was hungry to write. I was excited to be writing a story that I wanted to see; one that challenges, and shows deeply flawed, complex characters navigating this existential custard that is life! I think the hardest part was knowing I had a responsibility to approach these characters and experiences with honesty and care, particularly when dealing with communities and experiences beyond my own.