Women's Prize for Playwriting | Bouquets & Brickbats

03/08/25

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

In a suburban home, somewhere in Northern Ireland, a ninetieth birthday celebration is about to begin. Gilly (Andrea Irvine) is preparing a special meal for her mother, Eileen (Julia Dearden), sparing no expense. After all, as Eileen seems to delight in pointing out, this might be her last chance for a decent shindig. Gilly’s daughter, Jenny (Caoimhe Farren), has travelled all the way from that London especially for the occasion, but – wouldn’t you know it – there’s no sign of her husband. Instead, she’s brought along her teenage daughter, Muireen (Muireen Ní Fhaogáion), who is… whisper it… a vegetarian.

But as the celebration gathers pace, it soon becomes clear that something here isn’t quite right. Why can’t the four generations of women find some common ground? Why is Eileen so dismissive of her visitors’ privileged lives? And… why is there absolutely no sign of Gilly’s husband?

Karis Kelly’s pitch-dark comedy, Consumed, winner of the Women’s Prize for Playwriting in 2023, is a multi-layered tale of intergenerational conflict, sumptuously situated in Lily Arnold’s incredibly realistic set, where even items of food appear to be genuinely cooked and served as we watch. The four characters are all convincingly portrayed, with Dearden ruling the roost as a gloriously foul-mouthed Granny from Hell, levelling her curses at Feinians and the English with equal venom.

Meanwhile, Muireen can’t understand why Gilly’s house is so cluttered with plastic bags and other non-recyclables – is she turning into a hoarder? And when people ask awkward questions, why does Jenny always seem to take refuge in a glass of red wine?

As a whole series of twists are gleefully unravelled, the pressure cooker atmosphere in the house steadily builds up an explosive head of steam. In the final stages, there’s an abrupt twist from realism to a kind of dreamlike symbolism, as Eileen and Muireen enter a shared experience – and it’s in this section that for me, the play loses a little of its drive.

But quibbles aside, Consumed is a delicious confection, sensitively directed by Katie Posner – an affecting narrative, which has me laughing throughout, while also giving me plenty to think about.

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney

08/03/23

Lyceum Theatre, Edinburgh

You Bury Me is a play about six young Egyptians coming of age in the aftermath of the Arab Spring – “a generation emerging from a national trauma, determined to live and love freely”. It’s a fascinating premise. I’m aware of the Arab Spring, of course; I read the news. But I don’t know anything about life in modern Egypt, nor of the ‘what happens next’. I’m keen to learn more.

Written by an anonymous playwright – under the alias ‘Ahlam’ – and directed by Katie Posner, the play is a co-production with the ever-dependable Paines Plough (among others), and the winner of 2020’s Women’s Prize for Playwriting. Its strength lies in the verve and vitality of the characters, all brimful of youthful energy, fighting to find their places in a changing world.

Alia (Hanna Khogali) and Tamer (Moe Bar-El) have both just graduated from university, but they’ve little experience of sex and relationships. They’re in love and want to get married, but it’s not as easy as all that. Alia is Muslim and Tamer is Christian; Alia’s family, who all work for the police, will not be pleased – and Cairo is a city where displeasing the police can have serious consequences…

Meanwhile, eighteen-year-old Maya (Yasemin Özdemir) is making the most of her last year of high school, attending every party she can, and making out with lots of guys. She’s bubbly and outgoing, and doesn’t care a jot about her ‘reputation’. New girl Lina (Eleanor Nawal) is shy and insecure, but opposites attract sometimes, and the two soon become firm friends – but is this enough for Lina?

Osman (Tarrick Benham) is Maya’s half brother, and he’s a political writer, publishing a blog that makes him a target for the authorities. We never see his girlfriend, Zeina, but we learn that she’s an activist too, so it’s no surprise to learn that Rafik (Nezar Alderazi) – who’s staying with Osman because his dad has kicked him out for being gay – thinks there are people watching the house. The two men fear for each other: Osman urges Rafik to delete Grindr, while Rafik wants Osman to stop writing his blog. But neither is prepared to sacrifice their sense of self in order to feel ‘safe’.

All six actors deliver lively and spirited performances, and I like the choral narration that provides context. Özdemir in particular really owns the stage; she is very charismatic, and Maya and Lina’s burgeoning friendship is always believable. Khogali and Bar-El make the most of the humour in Alia and Tamer’s fumbling sexual encounters, as well as inviting empathy for the lovers’ plight.

Although Benham and Alderazi both inhabit their roles well, their strand of the play is less satisfying, mainly because it is all told rather than shown. We don’t see any of Rafik’s dates, nor his family disowning him. Neither do we find out anything about what Osman is actually writing: the political discourse here is frustratingly vague. What is he saying that is so inflammatory, and how much danger is he really in? Without these details, Osman’s rage at his blog being deleted lacks context, and Rafik’s big emotional scene doesn’t elicit as much sympathy as it ought.

You Bury Me is eminently watchable – in the same way as an episode of Friends or Skins – and there are plenty of laughs, as well as moments of sadness. Ultimately, however, I don’t think it quite delivers on its political promise.

3.3 stars

Susan Singfield