Writer: Mohamed-Zain Dada
Director: Milli Bhatia
Mohamed-Zain Dada’s boisterous, high-energy, thought-provoking debut play, Blue Mist, which premiered at the Royal Court’s Jerwood Theatre Upstairs in October 2023, makes a welcome stop at Stratford East as part of a short national tour, directed again by Milli Bhatia.
Omar Bynon reprises his original role as Jihad, a character whose name carries a provocative weight, with Azan Ahmed taking over as the stoic, level-headed, muscle-bound Rashid and Kashif Ghole stepping into the role of the vulnerable, conspiracy-theory-prone Asif. The piece’s surrealist interludes – expressionist dance sequences and a satirical take on a tune from Mary Poppins – detract a little from the gritty urban vibe. Still, there is much to enjoy in a work that celebrates male, working-class British Muslim voices and experiences and questions broader narratives about the communities they inhabit.
Jihad is back in Northwest London after three years at university, apparently without much to show for his pricey education. The man passes his days dreaming of a career in journalism, while his evenings are spent with his 20-something best friends, Rashid and Asif, at “Chunkyz” shisha lounge, waxing lyrical about “the magic trio”: music, weed, and girls. Set designer Tomás Palmer delivers a square neon-infused, subterranean sofa and table, one that seems to exist in isolation from its surroundings. For the boys, it is a place of brotherly love, respite from the ‘white gaze’, and community. For the authorities, who associate shisha lounges with crime, cultural self-segregation, and what someone derides as “the creeping Islamisation of Britain’s social spaces”, it is an altogether more menacing place.
Heathrow baggage handler Rashid, whose backstory includes a period in youth detention, wants to open an “aunties only” gym, a business that will set him up nicely for marriage with his girlfriend Hanifa, but it requires investment from a dodgy local steroids dealer. Asif has ambitions, too, though he can never quite get that much-wanted promotion to area manager in the car rental firm he works for. Time spent on a “Single Muslim” dating app sees occasional meet-ups with girls whom Asif feels inferior to: “her dad is a lawyer, and her mum’s a doctor”, he bemoans of one, though on the positive side, “she ordered a wrap at Nando’s, that’s wifey material”.
A complication arises when Jihad enters a competition for a “Future Documentary-maker” award run by the mainstream media (for which read middle-class, white-run) company, Ajami, fronted by impossibly posh Fiona (a tremendous Ghole has fun with her clipped accent and cringe-inducing attempts at political correctness). Jihad’s idea is for a podcast called “Pipe Dreams”, which celebrates shisha lounges and explores what they mean to the wider community.
Jihad duly wins the prize, but as many journalists have discovered, getting your programme made requires some compromises. His desire to celebrate his culture clashes with Ajami’s determination to have him fall in line with their pre-existing narrative, broadly speaking captured as ‘what’s gone wrong with second-generation Muslim immigrants’. “Pipe Dreams” needs to become “Pipes, Protests and Perversions”, the latter a nod to the role shisha lounges have supposedly played in grooming scandals.
As if we do not get the message, Director Bhatia has Jihad deliver a rendition of the line “A spoonful of Muslim helps the news go down, in the most alarming way” to the tune of Mary Poppins’ A Spoonful of Sugar. It is a funny interlude, neatly put together, but opinions will vary as to how much it adds to the realism. At its best, this is a piece about love, community, and ongoing challenges in integrating while remaining true to one’s roots. The polemic here threatens to spiral into preachiness.
A dance sequence sees Jihad mull over a single choice: “sink or float”, for which read stick to his guns or fall in line with Ajami’s narrative. The latter choice will require him to make illicit recordings of his friends, an act of betrayal that will threaten to shred the trio’s longstanding relationship. Events reach an emotional climax when the completed podcast is livestreamed over the sound system at Chunkyz. The evening will have dire consequences for everyone concerned. In the final act, Palmer’s set sees a boxing ring lower from the ceiling onto the shisha table. Ostensibly, it is the venue for Rashid’s gym, but thematically it is where the boys are going to battle things out.
Dada’s trio of characters is likably flawed and well-drawn, and the performances are uniformly good, particularly Ahmed’s Rashid, whose forgiveness and love for his friends shine through like a beacon. Is there a hint of having your cake and eating it about the verse-filled ending? Yes, but this is kind, funny, inclusive 95 minutes spent in the company of three amiable companions, with a point to make about the importance of reclaiming one’s own narrative. A welcome and timely revival.
Runs until 14 July 2026 and continues to tour
