Caribbean-British ‘kitchen sink’ drama set in a secure hospital
Daniel Nelson
When gritty, angry “kitchen sink” dramas swept aside middle-class theatre in the 1950s and ‘60s some audience members walked out, complaining that sinks, cookers and lavatories were unsuitable subjects for plays.
The battle was quickly won in the rebellious world of the Swinging Sixties. Nowadays almost anything goes.
Yet there are other taboos. You don’t see many plays in London about Black men locked up in secure hospitals for violent crimes.
So well done, Sophia Griffin, who has made that scenario the subject of her debut play, After Sunday — and, with the help of a superb cast, made a great job of it.
She succeeds by focussing on the lives and interactions of the three main characters: Ty, British-Trinidadian; Daniel, Caribbean; Leroy, Jamaican with years in the UK.
The fourth character is Naomi, their British-Jamaican occupational therapist, the brains behind the cookery sessions in which all the action is set. We glean elements of her home life, but only enough to understand that she is unsupported and alone in her efforts.
“I’m a character-driven writer,” Griffin has said. “For me, it’s the characters and their journeys that make it special. It’s a play that meets these people where they are – in their messy, funny, tender, complex ways.
“We approach the storytelling with empathy and truthfulness, giving insight into a world that’s often misunderstood and into people who are rarely heard in wider society.”
Her assessment is spot on.
She has also said that Caribbean food is woven throughout the story, literally and symbolically. Food in Caribbean culture “is home, comfort, love, healing.
“When your connection to home and culture has been severed, there’s something very powerful but also painful about reconnecting with it. Food allows us to explore the joy and pain that live side by side within these characters.”
So it’s odd that the most notable disappointment of the production is the absence of any real feel for the physicality of food prepping and the smells of cooking. The characters talk about it, but the senses do not imbibe it.
Fortunately, the words do it. The kitchen conversations are witty, moving and dramatic; the men’s situations emerge naturally from the chat, and we get to know them before we begin to learn a little about what got them into a secure hospital.
It’s sharp, entertaining and humane. Well worth experiencing.
* After Sunday, £10 - £35, Bush Theatre, Uxbridge Road, W12 8LJ until 20 December. Info: Bush