In 2005 Britain as a country, entangled in a violent war abroad and faced with terrorist attacks on its own soil, goes through some radical changes that result in increased homeland security measures and heightened racial suspicion. It’s the same year Rahul turns 18. He’s from Bexleyheath, neither extremist nor a problem child, in fact, he’s as normal as teenagers come: a bit brash with the propensity for charming swagger, somewhat objectionable taste in music and a love for Reeboks.
The story opens in March 2005 during the 150,000 people strong demonstration against the Iraq War and follows the life of British Asian boy through his last year of school as he, along with the whole country, grapples with the nightmare of 7/7 and its fallout. Events from 2005 are intercut with moments from 2012 in which a more reflective Rahul looks back from the vantage point of the Great Olympic Experience and talks about what it could possibly mean for him and for others to be proud to be British today.
After receiving critical accolades in Edinburgh (here’s Catherine Love’s review for Exeunt) True Brits, Vinay Patel’s one-man play now stars David Mumeni, an actor I last saw on stage in Mush And Me at the Bush where he played a young, laddy Muslim with a conflicted cultural identity. Despite True Brits having a stronger sense of urgency and it’s a much stronger play overall, it would be a shame to see a fine acting talent pegged to a certain cast type. In True Brits Mumeni manages to devastate with little effort and makes precise, nuanced choices when marking the teenager Rahul out from the more demure 25-year old. He carries the audience’s attention all the way through and handles the different characters efficiently and without ornamental flourish.
There’s Rahul’s mother (“Why don’t you go out with any Indian girls, Rahul?”) and grandfather; there’s Jess, his crush, politically active and brainy; there’s Mihir, a young family friend who just like Rahul is trying to find a way to find a sense of self in this strained racial climate. And then there’s Rahul’s friend Rhys who, driven more by abysmal results than conviction, is planning on joining the army after school. Personal loyalties, political convictions, exuberance and a sense of wanting to belong mix together and cause Rahul to violently loose grip of his agency and get lost in an adolescent identity nightmare. There are a few genuinely shocking moments in the text, none of which come out of left field but rather feel horrifyingly plausible.
Patel has written a timely, at times funny piece that’s both a character study and an analogy about Britain itself growing up and working through a troubled time. I don’t think it’s too controversial saying that Britain has a problem with racism and that the nebulous idea of the Olympic Spirit relieved, and some may say camouflaged, the issue. What can we learn from our previous crises as we grow up as country? Will we remain blind to the violence that destructive Othering of racial and religious groups causes? Can we still turn it all around? And what if the answer to all of that is love?