Summarize this content to 2000 words in 6 paragraphs in Arabic Unlock the Editor’s Digest for freeRoula Khalaf, Editor of the FT, selects her favourite stories in this weekly newsletter.This is kitchen sink drama with a difference. Like many of the plays that supercharged a wave of realism in English theatre in the Fifties and Sixties, Emteaz Hussain’s Expendable crackles with the wit and candour of working-class northerners and vividly depicts the texture of ordinary life. It never budges from a kitchen, in fact, with Esther Richardson’s production adding to the vibrant authenticity by sending the smell of baking pizza wafting through the auditorium. But there’s a twist. Hussain’s play unfolds in August 2011, in a British Pakistani household. The newspapers are full of stories about Muslim men grooming young white girls and the fallout for the local community has been grim. One elderly Muslim man has been kicked to death; the far right is on the march; racists have seized the opportunity to attack anyone of colour. And for Zara, whose 20-year-old son Raheel has been wrongly identified as one of the abusers, ordinary life has become a nightmare. This kitchen is both haven and prison: every knock at the door has Avita Jay’s terrified Zara quaking like a leaf and when her estranged sister Yasmin steps in through the back door, she has just cut her hand badly trying to slice some onions.Hussain’s play admirably and sympathetically shifts the spotlight on to the innocent people who get caught up in the slipstream of terrible events — particularly the women. Zara battles on, while locals yell insults at her and even post dog faeces through the letterbox. Gurjeet Singh’s shaken Raheel creeps around the house like a spectre, and Zara’s daughter, Sofia (an impassioned Humera Syed), is caught up in anti-racism protests. It takes the arrival of Yasmin, played with wonderful, no-nonsense directness by Lena Kaur, to pull everything into focus. And it’s in the relationship between the sisters that the play scores most highly, Hussain creating a richly believable bond: frankness driven by fierce love.Elsewhere, it feels less sure-footed. All the issues Hussain raises are critical — misogyny, homophobia, Islamophobia and trial by media among them — but trying to handle so many in 85 minutes can make some of the dialogue feel forced. The focus shifts briefly to Yasmin’s son’s sexuality, to a distressing story about a young girl who has disappeared, and to the efforts of Jade (Maya Bartley O’Dea), a white victim of sexual grooming, to clear Raheel’s name, but they need more time and space. Even so, this is a compassionate, timely play. One that, though set 13 years ago, feels all too topical given the riotous disorder that followed the Southport stabbings this summer.★★★☆☆To December 21, royalcourttheatre.com
