In Conversation with Edi De Melo

We sat down with writer Edi de Melo ahead of Mulatto Boy Productions, marking their theatrical debut, with Mulatto Boy. It will run at Clapham’s Omnibus Theatre from 15 October – 3 November. It’s directed by Chris Yarnell. Tickets are now on sale via www.omnibus-clapham.org/mulatto-boy/.

Edi, what inspired you to write “Mulatto Boy,” and how did your personal experiences shape the narrative and themes of the play?

One word. Brexit. I feel like ever since then questions around who is considered British and who isn’t have grown exponentially and have now become a part of national rhetoric in a very toxic way. The way we frame stories or report certain events all seem to be caveated with this question especially when the source or target of these events or stories are black or brown. For me where Mulatto Boy comes in is what happens if this question is always levied at you but seeking refuge in your own community comes with the caveat that you’re not quite enough there too. This is an experience I am familiar with and one I had to draw on when writing Mulatto Boy.

In “Mulatto Boy,” Huvi’s struggle for British citizenship serves as a central conflict. How does this storyline reflect broader issues of identity and belonging for mixed-race individuals in Britain today?

In Mulatto Boy, by being denied citizenship, Huvi is sort of disowned by his British side, his white side, and so is forced to go into his black heritage, in this case his mother, in order to find a sense of belonging. The problem with this is we don’t know if he will find the peace and love he wants and needs in his mother’s world and when he is in that space what boxes will he have to tick and can he even tick all of them. This sense of liminality or of living in between two worlds, of not ticking enough boxes in either and being pushed and pulled between the two, is exactly what Mulatto Boy hopes to reflect. By being pushed out of one space, Britain, and moving into another, his black heritage, Huvi is in this constant battle between the two and that battle is manifested quite literally in the piece by his citizenship being denied and his mother’s heritage not always being so welcoming or accepting of him as a mixed race individual.

The play is described as an “unapologetically black” exploration of growing up mixed-race. Can you elaborate on how you balance these cultural narratives and what message you hope to convey to the audience?

Firstly what I mean by unapologetically black is allowing the issues that affect black communities to be voiced on stage without watering them down or making them more palatable for non-black audiences’ sensitivities. This is an approach I believe should begin from the moment the writer begins their process. In Mulatto Boy, writing Huvi’s experience through a black lens allows us to see how Huvi is viewed in predominantly white spaces. We see the everyday comments and questions the characters make towards him as what they really are. Microaggressions. It means that we realise that in those white spaces what the other characters around him see is his blackness even if he can’t see it himself yet in the story. It should also be said that experiencing Huvi’s story through this lens also allows us to see how he exists in black spaces too and how he is perceived here. How his black credentials are called into question whilst also highlighting the privilege that comes with his lightskinnededness (Is that word? I’m using it anyway!). Through this dance between the two, exploring white spaces through black experiences and then highlighting mixed race experiences through black lenses I hope to show the effect the two have on each other and what being caught in middle of that feels like. Since it is this being caught in the middle that shows this relationship of cause and effect between the two.

Angolan music and language play a significant role in “Mulatto Boy.” How did you incorporate these elements into the production, and what impact do you hope they will have on the audience’s understanding of Huvi’s identity?

Since Angolan music, language and food is something I grew up with it was always something that was going to make it into the script. Whether that is Huvi speaking a different language when learning about his mother’s story or the piece itself being punctuated by Angolan inspired sounds at different moments. Language, music and sound and how it is used is so linked to culture and identity and time and place. It triggers memories and emotions and gives us comfort in so many different ways. And so Huvi’s journey into his mother’s heritage was always going to be punctuated by this. And I hope that audiences will relate to this exploration of his heritage throughout the piece and will be able to connect to how music and language play a part in their own heritage.

As this is your theatrical debut, what were some of the challenges and rewarding moments you experienced in bringing “Mulatto Boy” to the stage, and how has working with director Chris Yarnell influenced the final production?

Chris brings an element of chaos to the piece. He also understands the messiness of identity and how that can manifest itself physically. On top of this the piece itself is already a very physical piece of storytelling that is about bodies moving in space as much as it is about the words that are spoken. Something which Chris has a great handle on coming from a movement background.

That being said because the piece is so physical and abstract to a certain extent, as it is a piece written to be experienced more than it was written to be read, getting people to understand the vision and trust how the piece would translate wasn’t always easy. Luckily Marie at Omnibus Theatre loved it enough to offer us a stage and Arts Council believed in us enough to offer us funding. And so here we are ready to share what I think will be a thoroughly enjoying and sometimes uncomfortable watch for audiences and I can’t wait!

REVIEW: The Cherry Orchid


Rating: 2 out of 5.

The Broken God’s production of The Cherry Orchid is funny yet sometimes strays into overly silly territory.


The Cherry Orchid is a cheesy, funny performance. The plot follows a tidy homeowner (Tom Lane) whose evening of cleaning is disturbed by Agent James King (Gregor Copeland) who comes through a window of the house as he’s an assassin on the run and the home used to be his. Unexpectedly, the pair becomes friends and the Homeowner decides to help King make the night out alive. 

The set design was very imaginative with the cupboard being used as an entrance and exit to the stage. The scene changes were also creative, particularly the one where the Homeowner (who presented symptoms of OCD – Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) felt it was necessary to flick the lights on and off three times and in the darkness there was a scene change. However, there were moments where the writing made the show feel like a pantomime. Whether this was on purpose by Calum McArthur (writer and director) was unclear. Constant jokes about ‘Brain’ spoiling himself when he was killed and constant innuendos about sex – these were done in a way that ended up landing flatly and started to feel very childish due to the subject matter and writing. Despite this, the twist at the end between the homeowner and Agent James King was unexpected and an intelligent way to answer unanswered questions about their relationship. 

The third actress, Hannah Clancy-Hughes multiroling was entertaining but sometimes brought a childish persona to the characters which occasionally was entertaining but sometimes kept them quite surface level. With the multi-roling there were often times when there was no deep connection between the characters making the plot feel two-dimensional. However, the physicality all the actors brought to their roles was a joy to watch. 

The show is around 80 minutes long, which was the appropriate time for the action. *slight spoiler ahead* However, the ending with the actors playing policemen was unnecessary. It can be argued the ending of the twist would have been more impactful to the audience without the inclusion of the policemen. The interval is only 30 minutes into the show and with a play at this length, the interval was deeply not needed and just prolonged the evening. 

The Cherry Orchid does have humorous moments and if fart jokes and dildos on people’s heads is your type of humour this show will be a delightful way to spend your evening. It is on at the Drayton Arms Theatre till the 28th of September

REVIEW: Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me


Rating: 5 out of 5.

An utterly awe-inspiring theatrical performance that perfectly encapsulates the complexity of the 80’s.


David Paul Jones takes the stage with his stripped-back rendition of Bronski Beat’s ‘Smalltown Boy’ aptly setting the scene for the rest of the play. A  warm reverb washes over you and his dulcet voice fills the tiny room and invites you to embark on a journey back to the 80s, an era of love, self-discovery, harsh reality and above all- bloody good music! 

An intimate setting of no more than 60 occupied seats, dimmed lights and a small stage sporting a handful of props. Among them were three flower pots, a wooden bench and a Dr Martin’s box. Curiosity was peaked. For most, it was a throwback to their youth. For me, it was an education in the era of paisley patterns and shifting social norms. 

“Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me’ is a thoroughly captivating retelling of the coming of age in the 80’s, exploring events and themes such as Ben Harrison’s first crush in primary school where he recalls the embarrassing memory of wearing a gym kit that only highlighted his already skinny legs in time where being slim was not the “in thing” or the harsh reality of young boy’s struggles with toxic male figures in their lives.

It is the composition of this play that makes it so memorable, each section is signaled by a beautiful rendition of a famous song, typically pertaining to the theme of the segment. “Boy’s Don’t Cry” from The Cure was followed by an uncompromising narrative about a young boy traumatic first encounter with an electric razor- an event that should signal something positive was overshadowed by a fragile outburst from the boy’s father which instilled the same sense of misdirected rage in him. A nod to generational trauma. 

Emery Hunter, Glasgow-based actor and writer, delivered an outstanding performance. Her addition of British Sign Language not only made the play more accessible for those hard of hearing but heightened the senses by putting heart and soul into each movement, taking the play to the next level. Justyna Jablonska’s work on cello brought a stunning diversity to the play, often underscoring key moments and enriching each song with a mournful undertone. 

The lighting of the play was another crucial element, the work of Simon Wilkinson enhanced every aspect with the cleverly utilized LED pulse light becoming a key feature of the performance and utilizing colours to reflect the mood on stage. Simple yet effective, the set design was truly immersive with a handful of props to emphasize certain points, notably the trio of flowers in which Ben recites the Latin names of whilst reminiscing about his grandmother’s breadth of knowledge or the bench in which Ben wakes up on with the realisation he could have died at the tender age of 14 after vomiting, attempting to piece together the blurry, alcohol-fueled night prior. That same bench tells the story of Ben’s beloved childhood cat, Mr Polly (hilariously played by David) who is put down several years later and while sat on that bench, Ben recalls how that made him feel. This was a prime example of how theatre pushes you to do so much with so little. 

Weaving together personal tales and reimagined stories, we are guided through a vivid, evocative and highly relatable performance, one which brought some audience members to tears. ‘Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me’ is a powerful, heartwarming and warming piece of theatre that is a testament to the cast and crews ability. 

REVIEW: Re-INCARNATION


Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

QDance Company’s celebration of Nigerian culture strikes the Southbank audience with a gripping start but eventually falls bland 


Choreographed by Qudus Onikeku and presented by Dance Consortium, Re:INCARNATION endeavours to bring about Nigerian culture (possibly hope as well, considering the country’s current enduring economy) and the vibrance of Lagos – the metropolis of West Africa – to the UK audience. This 90-minute dance show traces the loop of Ibi (“Birth”), Iku (“Death”) and Antubi (“Rebirth”) that illustrates, according to Onikeku’s words, “a distinct way of thinking about time in a non-linear, but cyclical manner”.

This indeed sounds intriguing, especially if you are familiar with the recent “temporal turn” rethinking how time shapes social, cultural and political process, especially in a non-linear, non-Western context. This idea resonates with the Yoruba culture, where the mind and the body are seen not as negations, but closely interconnected, with human beings residing liminally in-between. 

Together with Mary Peter Ochei’s costume design and Michel Abdallah’s lighting, Onikeku’s choreography valiantly explores this idea. In the first phase “Birth”, we see the high saturation colour of modern costumes, as well as the rhythmic vibrance of Lagos where people socialise, mate, and give birth. The ensemble deftly incorporates well-curated group dances into daily conversations and conflicts. Its sheer intensity easily grips the audience. 

Following a bullied boy’s premature death, represented through a brilliant and compelling solo, the show transitions into “Death,” where the show has been gradually drained of its vitality, giving way to repetitive blandness. Here, Onikeku’s days in Paris are evident, easily reminding us of the aesthetics of French contemporary dance: costumes covered by white-ashy powder, doom light on a minimalist, shadowy stage, and circular, repetitive movements.  It feels as though Onikeku attempts to mend the show’s excessive intensity with some (Western) restraint, or simply he’s avoiding self-orientalisation by presenting the lively Nigerian funeral culture. However, lacking the immanence of vitality, his declaration of defeating the linear time fades unpromising.

As the ensemble transitions to “Rebirth,” signalled by an everlasting shouting on stage left, the performance becomes even more obscure with a poetry recitation, and all dancers “black themselves up” with some oily material that will glitter silver under the light. Visually striking, they dance in a manner resembling rituals from the remote past, calling back Nigerian authenticity that has been over-coded by the West. Sadly, with infinite loops of explosion and rest, this “Rebirth” seems to indicate the forever loss of such authenticity. The final phase feels exceptionally Hegelian, where the concept of time is, notoriously, anti-intensity. 

There are some inviting interpretations in Onikeku’s choreography. For instance, in the “Birth” phase, the ensemble is paired to mimic intercourse, but it is the woman left alone masturbating, who gives birth. This celebration of female fertility has been called back in “Rebirth” where a female dancer plucks her crotch like playing a guitar riff. These details add some bit of fun to watch, but help little to a dance show that opens high but gradually loses its momentum.

REVIEW: Princess Essex


Rating: 4 out of 5.

A riotous romp through 1900’s England, led by Britain’s first black beauty queen. 


A heart-warming tale of courage and tenacity, Princess Essex follows the inspiring true story of the first woman of colour to enter a beauty pageant in the UK. Rumoured to be a Senegalese royal, in 1908 Princess Dinubolu travelled to Southend-on-Sea to enter the international pageant, held at the towns well-loved events venue, the Kursaal. Her historic origins are unknown and playwright Anne Odeke toys with her potential backstory, bringing us a reimagined version of this titular character. 

Odeke creates the role of Joanna, a local ‘half caste’ housemaid who feels drawn to enter the pageant. By playing this fiery servant herself, Odeke has become the first woman of colour to write and star in her own play at Shakespeare’s Globe. Her writing is immaculate and her acting chops live up to a demanding script (not to mention her fabulous singing voice). 

A vaudevillian affair, this show boasts a live orchestra and full-cast musical numbers. It’s a high-energy performance, with none of the actors showing signs of tiring, despite constant entrances, exits and both character and costume changes. The expert costuming by Isobel Pellow allows instant character transformation, and despite the constant changing of identities it’s always clear who’s who. The costumes, wigs and accessories are vibrant and exciting, while giving a playful nod to Edwardian fashions. 

Despite the Amazonian performance by Odeke, there is no real star of this show. A true piece of ensemble theatre, every actor steps up to bring this compelling story to life. Alison Halstead is an engaging Mr Batwa, the Pygmy who inspires Joanna to quit her job and pursue greater passions. Eloise Secker plays a hilarious Violet, the spoiled daddy’s girl, who becomes increasingly infatuated with a housemaid and Suffragette. 

However, this is where the play shows some weakness. Despite its lengthy runtime, there are a number of subplots and loose ends that are never resolved. Violet’s sapphic interests are introduced too late in the piece to be fully explored and the financial future of the Kursaal remains uncertain. Refining these elements would create a tighter, cleaner show with clearer messaging. 

Despite these minor shortcomings, this play is a huge success. With all the trimmings of a Christmas pantomime, the show is tremendously fun, with the audience getting more and more involved as the story progresses. 

Odeke and director Robin Belfield have created an impressive piece of theatre, using serious themes to deliver the ultimate message of the importance of representation and being seen. A must watch for anyone who has ever felt invisible or like their identity precludes them from pursuing their dreams. Take a page out of Princess Dinubolu’s book and enter that pageant!

REVIEW: Solomon


Rating: 4 out of 5.

An informative romp through love, sex, desire and homophobia – ‘Solomon’ presents the tragic tale of the Jewish Queer pre-Raphaelite painter’s fall from grace. 


Feelings of love and desire are constrained with accusations of immorality and criminality in Solomon, illustrating the life-shattering impacts of Victorian homophobia and the juxtaposition between the great Victorian painter Simeon Solomon’s talent and the treatment he received from a society that wasn’t ready to accept him. 

Simeon’s tragic fall into destitution from his early days of promise as a young artist is portrayed with great empathy by Jonothan Forrester. Forrester animatedly captures the painter’s youthful joy and wonder at the world and his experience of the first sensations of love and lust, in moments that are heartbreakingly innocent and fun. 

Spurned by society, his cast-out Simeon is down-trodden but never tragic nor over the top. Moments of humour are carefully placed throughout Solomon, making it an engaging and entertaining hour of theatre.

A set made up of easels initially covered, are gradually revealed to display Simeon Solomon’s  beautiful pastel images. This successfully emphasized the tragic gap between the painter’s talent and his earthly successes and recognition. It’s fascinating to see the painter’s life reflected in his art – be it in the androgynous soft faces and curls of his male figures – inspired by his lover in Rome, or the melancholy blues of his later works, influenced by his life in the workhouse. 

Coming out of the JW3, I definitely felt informed and educated about this forgotten figure of art history.

Did I feel a bit like I had been in an art history lecture? Slightly, but perhaps that comes with the territory of the one-man narrative play.  And if it was a lecture, it  wasn’t one you could fall asleep in.

Solomon was an hour well spent, and I’m grateful to know Simeon Solomon’s story.  It really conveyed the tragedy of never finding the love you seek and also being forbidden to love yourself. I look forward to checking out Simeon Solomon’s art for myself, some of which is on display at the Tate Britain. 

REVIEW: The Truth About Harry Beck

Rating: 3 out of 5.

A pleasing and enjoyable drama for lovers of London’s tube network

The London Transport Museum’s underground theatre was a new venue for me, and the perfect place for Andy Burden’s play, The Truth About Harry Beck. which explores the life of the man behind London’s iconic and ubiquitous tube map (although Harry would correct us here, “it’s not a map, it’s a schematic diagram!”)

Burden’s show tells us the story of an obscure TfL employee, working in the 1930s, and how he came to invent, and persuade the transport network to adopt, his design for the tube map. The play follows the lives of Harry Beck (Simon Snashall) and his wife Nora (Ashley Christmas), with a well-judged balance of the personal and the historical events at play, as we trace the evolution of one of London’s most well-loved and widely recognised symbols.

There’s a cosy domesticity about the performance, with the whole thing feeling like it could be something out of the world of Paddington. It is meticulously researched, with a well-developed understanding of Beck’s wife, Nora’s, influence on his work. We follow the two through several challenges and setbacks, set out in the play as ‘the three great rejections of Harry Beck’. There are issues of copyright, institutional blindness, redundancy, as well as moments of epiphany and joy.

There are cleverly worked scenes to involve audience participation, testing our tube network knowledge. One of the best scenes of the play sheds light on how the colours for each tube line were chosen, as we see Harry and Nora criss-crossing ribbons from Nora’s sewing basket across their living room, mapping interchanges.

The play rides rather more on the fascination of its subject matter, and its enduring relevance for all Londoners today, rather than distinguishing itself by its script or its acting. Admittedly, it would take a great deal of dramatic flair to turn what was a rather ordinary life into a compelling piece of theatre.

There is great scope for this kind of drama, with a huge explosion in material, both written and otherwise, on the experience of inhabiting urban spaces, and cult followings of public transport networks, London’s in particular. I hope to see the museum making the most of these opportunities, and look forward to seeing what direction they will take their theatre next.

In Conversation with: Ins Choi

Following a sell-out season at Park Theatre, KIM’S CONVENIENCE has transferred to Riverside Studios for a strictly limited season from 5 SEPTEMBER – 26 OCTOBER 2024.

Now a global smash hit, this hilarious and heartwarming drama about a family-run Korean store that inspired the Netflix phenomenon, is written by and starring Ins Choi, who calls the play his ‘love letter to his parents and to all first-generation immigrants who now call Canada their home.’

Q: What prompted you to first write Kim’s Convenience for the stage?

A: At the time, there weren’t many plays in Canada written by people from Asian descent. Not only that, but I didn’t see many Asians on stage. When Miss Saigon came to Toronto, that was huge. So, when I graduated from acting school, and hit a wall of casting, it was very frustrating. There weren’t any specifically Asian parts and people weren’t casting in non-traditional ways. Then, fu-GEN, the Asian Canadian theatre company formed, and the founding artistic director, Nina Lee Aquino (who’s the current AD at the National Theatre in Canada) wanted to nurture new Asian Canadian playwrights. She knew I wrote poetry and songs, so, she invited me to join their playwriting unit and said to come with an idea. Write what you know. Write from your experience. So, I thought of a Korean family who went to church and ran a convenience store, because most of my Korean friends’ parents did and I’d call it Kim’s Convenience. Kim is the most popular Korean last name, so, I thought, even if all the Kims in Toronto came to see it, it would do okay. I knew I wanted it to be contemporary and funny. I think humour has the power to disarm and communicate a lot more than jokes. But it took a long time to finish it. 

Q: How does it feel to have had Kim’s Convenience become a worldwide sensation after it was televised? 

A: It’s odd. I’ve never been good with being known in one way or another. I’m still trying to navigate social media. I’m learning and getting better with it but I’m a complete introvert who acts extroverted from time to time but do highly value my privacy and just being a regular person.

Q: Are you excited for the show to be reprised once more?

A: Yeah. We had such a great time last time. London audiences were incredible. So fortunate to be doing this again. Last time we were in a thrust configuration, this time, at Riverside Studios, we’re in a proscenium or an “End On” so, it’s a little different but another opportunity to deepen the moments and further clarify the performance. 

Q: How do you feel audiences respond to the show and its themes when they see it on stage?

A: I think audiences see themselves or members of their family in the play. They laugh a lot, and some shed a tear or two. At its core, it’s about a broken family in transition. It’s complicated and I think audiences relate to the subtleties of that. Family is not easy. Audiences who only know the TV show enjoy the familiar characters, the setting and the humour, but are pleasantly surprised at the more dramatic threads in the play and some of the underlying serious issues at play in the context of an immigrant family trying to fit in, survive in a new country. But yeah, audiences have a good time.

Q: As the playwright of ‘Kim’s Convenience,’ what messages are you hoping audiences will take away with them when they leave the theatre? 

A: I hope people have a great time. I hope they come to the theatre, laugh along with others, feel the feels with a group of people and feel less alone. I hope they see themselves or their family in the Kim family and better understand those in their communities that don’t necessarily look like them or are from another country.

Q: Are parts of Ins Choi found in any of the characters? 

A: I relate to all the characters. I was single, unsettled, into my thirties pursuing an artistic career like Janet much to my parents’ dismay. Much like Jung, I’ve felt like a failure many times in my life envious of those who look like they’re further along. Like Umma, I tend to keep it all in frustrated at perhaps my in-action and mostly just trying to get through the day. And like Appa, I now have two children who don’t listen to me. Kidding. Sort of.

Q: The actors shared that it meant so much for them to be in a play featuring Asian characters. Any thoughts on that? 

A: Stories are powerful. They disarm, nudge empathy and have the power to unite an audience regardless of who they are individually. And I think for a while, regardless of intent, what was received across Canadian theatre, film and television was that only a certain kind of story was worth telling, told by a certain kind of Canadian based on who was on stage or the screen, inadvertently sending the message that only certain stories were legitimate. We all know how it feels to be excluded. Things have changed for sure, and things are changing. Representation is important because it broadens the invitation to be part of the story, the story telling and what it means to be Canadian.

REVIEW: The Pitch

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Another football play … but the Gaelic version this time

Written by Philip Catherwood, The Pitch, set in East Belfast, is a charming and sensitive play. One of a spate of recent shows about football (Dear England, Red Pitch), Catherwood’s play distinguishes itself by its careful exploration of Northern Ireland, still so often defined by its sectarian divides, through the rivalry between the predominantly Catholic-played Gaelic Football, and what obsessed fan and unionist Robbie would call football football.

The story unfolds, true to its name, on ‘the pitch’ – local to all three of its characters: brother and sister Robbie (James Grimm) and Melissa (Dion Di Maio), and newly made acquaintance Deren (Jake Douglas). The set is straightforward, but effective; a set of goalposts and a square of grass. 

Robbie and Mel have been training together here since they were children, but they had never met Deren before. He belongs to a different club, and Robbie soon discovers exactly what kind of a club. The discovery that Deren plays Gaelic football, and is a Catholic to boot, is met with ridicule and derision by Robbie, and puts an abrupt end to what could perhaps have been a budding friendship. 

The exploration of a specific socio-cultural-political moment through a microcosm – in this case, football – is a well-rehearsed dramatic trope, but not any less well-loved for it. Done well, this can still be a powerful and moving statement to the forces of history and the way that they act upon individual lives, shaping hopes, dreams and relationships.

Grimm is excellent as the taut, defensive teenage Robbie, his anger thinly veiling his fear, his resistance to change. Mel (Di Maio) acts mostly as a device to relieve tension, and to give voice to elder brother Robbie’s vulnerabilities, fears, secrets – to an extent she plays this role for Deren too. 

Deren (Douglas) is an exquisitely written and performed character, sensitive and lonely, but it’s here that I think there’s some potential lost. The script only really hints at some of what this character is experiencing, as a queer Catholic man raised in Belfast. But it’s Deren that contains the raw material to make a strong lead, with a depth and complexity which are rather underexplored in the play’s current iteration.

Instead the play focuses rather more on Robbie, who nevertheless is extremely moving as he comes to terms with the future, with a life and a Northern Ireland that looks different to what he has known, and with his past mistakes. Grimm is without doubt a significant talent, but his character remains the least interesting of the three.

A tender Irish coming-of-age story, with a lot of important stories to tell – but some of the more important stories are left underexplored.

In Conversation with: Josh Azouz 

In conversation with Josh Azouz, creator of Gigi & Dar, on at Arcola Theatre from 3rd Oct – 2nd Nov.

Who are Gigi & Dar and what can you tell us about the story and style of the play?

Gigi & Dar are two young soldiers (aged 19 & 20) covering a roadblock and dreaming of their time in the army to finish so they can go travelling. The combination of a personal secret intersecting with the arrival of two civilians sets in motion a chain of tragic events.  All the characters speak to the audience, and the play at times veers between a clown show and a Greek Tragedy. At its core, the play is about funny, humane characters, participating in a crisis. 

What inspired you to write the play?

In my late teens I was in a bus station in Jerusalem and I was struck by the incongruity of a young female soldier applying eye-liner whilst a gun hung off her shoulder. That was the initial spark but many years later, when I came to write it, the play developed away from that specific geographical context. If I’ve done my job, GIGI and DAR will speak more universally to what ordinary people are capable of doing when faced with a terrifying political situation.  

Why is this play important to you?

When people you care for do bad things you can cut them off, or you can try and understand them. This play is a way of trying to understand them. 

How did Kathryn Hunter get involved with the production and what has it been like working with her so far?

I wrote a short BBC 4 film for Kathryn and her late husband Marcello during Covid, so we’d been in contact for a while. I greatly admired her as an actor, but when I was thinking of directors for this play I remembered Kathryn’s fantastic production of My Perfect Mind for Told by an Idiot at the Young Vic. I sent her GIGI & DAR. We then read the play aloud around her table, with us taking all the parts. It’s been great to work with her because she’s brimming with ideas but has the ability to remain very open. I think her experience both in text-based work and in Complicte rehearsal rooms means she is able to serve the play as well as the production. 

How are rehearsals going?

Kathryn likes to work with actors on their feet, so by day two, the company were trying out sequences. Kathryn calls ideas drafts, so things are being explored rather than set down. 

We have a movement director, Adi Gortler, who is instructing the company on how to use all the weaponry, and because the form is playful is not unusual to walk into the room and see someone balancing a grenade on their head. 

From what I’ve seen, my response has been a mixture of ‘oh this is great’ to ‘oh, what have I written?!’ But I’m doing a little bit of rewriting as we go along. I’m also trying not to go into rehearsals all the time – this is hard for me because I like rehearsals/I’m a control freak. The problem is that I keep piping up, and sometimes the actors and director need to be free to invent different ideas. 

Who would you like to see this play? And what would you like them to come away with?

I think the play strikes a good balance between being confrontational and accessible and I’d love all people (aged 14 and up) to see it. The themes of friendship & betrayal plus the question of how we repress harmful truths are universal. You don’t need to have been in the military or have family that have been touched by war to get something from this play. I also think it will appeal to people who like theatre that doesn’t have a clear message. With that in mind, I wouldn’t be able to tell you what I’d like you to come away with. 

Kathryn Hunter is an exceptional director and she is leading four wonderful actors, Roman Asde, Chipo Chung, Lola Shalam and Tanvi Virmani. They’re a complete delight to watch, and you’d be mad to miss them!