Elmina’s Kitchen
Here’s an astonishing and chastening fact: the arrival of Kwame Kwei-Armah’s Elmina’s Kitchen in the West End marks the first time ever that a contemporary British-born black writer has ever had a play open there. It may have only arrived at the Garrick with the prior endorsement of an award-winning National Theatre run, but it’s nonetheless greatly to be welcomed that this particular citadel has finally been breached.
The play will soon be joined by the first indigenously created black British musical to open in the West End when The Big Life transfers from Stratford East to Shaftesbury Avenue’s Apollo. The producer behind both is the indefatigable Bill Kenwright, who truly deserves credit and acclaim for daring to intervene and put his money where so many have their mouths. Instead of paying lip service to the notion of our multi-cultural society, he’s actually paying up to genuinely reflect it.
A major step forward has been taken, and the West End may never be quite the same place again. But more than that, here’s a play and musical that earn their places there, on any terms.
Kwei-Armah’s strong, muscular, questioning play packs as powerful a punch as it did before. While the National’s smallest Cottesloe Theatre may have given it a searing close-up intensity, it’s liberating to see new life breathed into it as a play that resonates on a far larger canvas, too.
Though written as a domestic drama that revolves around three generations of black men as it portrays a man and his troubled relationships with his own son and father, Kwei-Armah wrestles with bigger issues of race, identity and criminality that dares to shine a probingly critical light on his own community.
He is also now, in Angus Jackson’s production, his own leading man. In a programme interview, he gives his reasons for doing so: that it remains hard to present plays like this because “there’s still a perception that a traditional white audience won’t come out to see a play that is quintessentially black”. So he decided to do it, “hoping that my Casualty profile might do something to help overcome that and allow this play to go out around the country and to be seen by more people”. It also now becomes clearer than ever that the character he’s playing (the café owner Deli, desperately trying to keep his son out of a life of crime) is expressing his authorial voice, too.
This is a vibrant and important piece of theatre, and it deserves to thrive in the West End.
– Mark Shenton
NOTE: The following FOUR-STAR review dates from March 2005 and the opening tour stop for this production.
“They fuck you up, your Mum and Dad, they may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had and add some extra, just for you.”
Kwame Kwei-Armah’s play not only echoes Philip Larkin’s sentiments, it even quotes the famous poem in its exploration of the values parents hand down to their children.
Those values centre around Deli (played by Kwei-Armah), who owns the West Indian diner and takeaway which provides the title of the piece. While using flash criminal mate Digger (Shaun Parkes) to protect his premises, he tries to keep his teenage son Ashley (Michael Obiora) away from guns and gangs.
But with the arrival of Anastasia (Dona Croll), who wants to work alongside him and offer him love; Deli’s aspirations are raised.
The Kitchen is transformed into Elmina’s Plantain Hut, and Ashley becomes more involved in the very things his father tries to keep him from.
It’s a slow burn during Act One, explaining the history of Deli and his family, his relationship with Digger and the arrival of his absent father, Clifton (Don Warrington). It’s a look at the difference between Black Britons and the values of those from back home and the struggle against conforming to the stereotypes of young Black culture. But it’s told well.
The post-party scene in Act Two, with Clifton and Baygee (Oscar James) reminiscing, is particularly heart-warming yet tinged with Deli’s frustration at their affection for the past.
And therein lies Deli’s tragedy. Despite his best efforts, Ashley is drawn to his dreams of owning a BMW, being what he sees as a man, possessing a gun. And despite the character-building of Act One, peppered with comedy, act two races along towards its shattering denouement.
Played out on Bunny Christie’s diner set, director Angus Jackson keeps interest high with laughs aplenty. But the amusement factor only makes the explosive climax more intense, with audible gasps from the audience.
The play itself is beautifully written, the language poetic and emotive; and there are great performances from the company of six, backed by live incidental music from Rory McFarlane’s band. What emerges is a melting pot of themes, issues and topics that will keep you thinking well into the night.
– Elizabeth Ferrie (reviewed at Birmingham Rep)
