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Guest Blog: Nothing’s Cooking in Kali’s Kitchen

I’ve become quite sceptical about British Asian theatre. Plays that fall within this genre tend to be formulaic; they’re either interpretations of classics or are focused on weddings and therefore more suited to Bollywood films. I’ve seen very little in the way of innovation or progression and it’s frustrating, not only as a theatre critic, but as a British Asian. So when I heard that Behna (Sisters), a site-specific play staged in an Asian family’s kitchen was coming to London, I was intrigued and a little excited.

Alfred Hickling of the Guardian deemed Sonia Likhari’s production “the most enjoyably inventive piece of theatre” he had seen last year when it toured in the Black Country. As I made my way to a house in a secret location, I had reason to be hopeful. Perhaps this production was going to be brave, progressive and far removed from the melodrama that’s become typical of British Asian theatre. But as I stepped into a party scene, complete with music, dancing, samosas and of course an overbearing mother intent on forcing everyone to have a good time, I realised Alfred Hickling had been somewhat generous in his praise.

On arrival, ‘guests’ are ushered into the living room of a house, where the Gill family are holding a Ladies’ Sangeet Night, which is a traditional pre-wedding party hosted by Punjabi families. It’s your stereotypical celebratory scene: colourful and loud. Once the guests have been coaxed into joining in with the celebrations, they’re led into the kitchen where the eldest daughter Dal is preparing the food for the party. It’s here that the stories unravel. The guests watch two generations of sisters deal with the jealousy, rivalry, adultery and secrecy which bind them. Admittedly, Likhari’s treatment of these themes is realistic, but this is all compounded by the melodramatic mother, who becomes nothing more than a cliché.

Like most family dramas, high emotion and tension simmer away until boiling point (or in this case, multiple boiling points), so a kitchen is an appropriate space for it. But for a site-specific piece of theatre, it’s hardly groundbreaking. The most inventive site-specific shows push boundaries and challenge the audience. At the very least, the site should add a new dimension to the themes of the play. Kali’s production of Behna does little more than use a realistic setting for a conventional family drama.

It’s not just the site-specific element that’s lacking in originality; it’s the opening scene too. As I sat perched on the arm of a sofa in the living room, clutching my drink, praying that I wouldn’t be dragged up to dance, I realised I had stepped into my childhood. The scene took me back to the many parties I had attended as a child in the 1980s and early 90s. Although it was reminiscent of my childhood, it held little relevance for my 18-year-old sister who had accompanied me. Nor did it have much appeal; an indication that perhaps this particular genre is locked in time and has yet to catch up with the younger generation.

There’s no doubt that Behna is a play that’s loaded with family drama and tension, but the opening scene and less than creative use of the site, make it unimaginative and far from inventive. Perhaps as a site-specific piece within a genre, which in my opinion doesn’t venture too far from adaptations of classics and Bollywood inspired shows, it could be deemed the most inventive production. But compared to other site-specific productions, it leaves a lot to be desired. I for one would like to see fewer samosas and more innovation.

– Amardeep Sohi is a freelance arts journalist and theatre critic.