Theatre Review: Misty

Honestly, at this point I'm a bit bored of writing reviews that rave about stuff at The Bush Theatre. Like, can't they just do something bad,  or at least indifferent, for a change? They're like that annoying over achieving kid at school who finishes top of the year but is somehow completely chill about it (me, except I don't remember being especially chill about it).

I digress. Their current production is Misty, a play/gig/monologue/poem/balloon extravaganza written by and starring the brilliant Arinzé Kene. It tells two stories simultaneously: that of Kene's creation of the show and, within it (play within a play klaxon) that of Luke, a young black man who has an unfortunate encounter on a nightbus which changes his life. And, annoyingly or otherwise, it's really bloody good.

Let's talk about that structure first of all because it's a bit of a mind fuck. A lot of the 'real' portion of the show is a debate around whether what Kene has written is a typical, "depressing shit", "urban jungle safari", ‘black play’ (sorry, that's a lot of punctuation), designed to help white, middle class people feel like - or pretend - that they understand or care about the experiences of black people. After all, he's written a piece of theatre and who goes to the theatre but middle class white people? And I'll tell you something, as a middle class white person, this was a pretty uncomfortable line of thinking. There were a couple of moments where I physically shrunk into my seat with embarrassment. But Kene doesn't leave this idea unquestioned (thankfully). He forcefully embraces and demands the right to tell his story, in his language, in a theatre. After all, middle class white people get to write about their experiences unquestioned and unremarked upon all the time. Why shouldn't young black men? The dynamics at play between these two ideas are complex, sparky and angry. They make for a compelling and confusing watch.

The play within this is equally thematically rich. Kene imagines London as a living being, made up of blood cells and viruses. But who are the blood cells and who are the viruses? In his judgement, the virus is gentrification and the way it forces traditional communities, for want of a better phrase, out of their homes and replaces them with Starbucks or nice places to have brunch. He makes his argument here all the more compelling by initially presenting it the other way round - that the nice middle class (white) people and their definition of progress are the blood cells -  an argument he demolishes quite beautifully. I loved the line "you create me but now you hate me", which is a more forceful and effective summing up of income inequality than I've heard anywhere else. 

The writing, themes apart, is just really bloody good: punchy, angry, evocative and with a great line in dark, deadpan, sarcastic humour. I would also argue it has a strong case for the best opening line in London at the moment: "A lot of crazy shit happens on the nightbus". I was pretty much sold by that sentence.

Kene the performer is as sensational as Kene the writer. The energy - physical, mental and creative - he brings to the performance is incredible. He's exactly the sort of quadruple threat that this utterly unique show demands: he's a great actor, has an amazing singing voice (that falsetto though!), can rap with a Jay Z-esque swagger and has the physicality to successfully extricate himself into a wetsuit at speed and out of an inflated then deflated balloon. No, really. I could watch him for days. 

A word of praise too for the design of this production which is, there's no other word for it, sexy. Sexy as hell. The brutalist vision of London it conjures up (via, essentially, one wall and one screen) is stunning and Jackie Shemesh's lighting design is just amazing. The use of shadows is incredible. I would very much like my life to be lit like this. Daniel Denton's video design is also great, effectively used and weirdly beautiful. Omar Elarian;s direction feels basically non-existent and really lets the piece breathe, which is what something like this desperately needs to work. 

Misty is yet another fearless commission from The Bush which has totally paid off and Arinzé Kene is an absolute superstar. I may not have found Misty a comfortable watch, but then that's the whole point. To quote my absolute favourite line from the whole piece: "If audiences don't want to be challenged they shouldn't come to the theatre." Long may the Bush, and Kene, keep challenging.

Misty plays at The Bush Theatre until 21st April.

My seat was C10, front and (slightly off) centre. I attended press night and my ticket was kindly provided by The Bush. It would normally cost £20.