Community – Birmingham Rep

Writer: Farrah Chaudhry

Director: Alice Chambers

It’s a well-worn trope: vastly different characters find themselves thrown together by chance but learn to rub along and learn from each other.

In Farrah Chaudhry’s Community, we meet Zoya and Leyla, who were at college together before going their separate ways. Zoya is privileged and has been indulged all her life by her well-off parents – one of her first lines is to declare, “I don’t do buses”; Leyla has overcome tragedy to lead the local community centre which has become her personal fiefdom. When Zoya finds herself alone and needing a friend, Leyla has no hesitation in taking her in. And so Zoya finds herself sleeping on a sofa in the flat that Leyla shares with her flatmate and friend, Khalil, himself a refugee from Syria.

Zoya has little concept of the meaning of money or value; Leyla is solid and dependable as she serves the community. When Zoya incredulously asks when Leyla has fun, Leyla explains that on her day off from the Community Centre she unwinds by volunteering at other worthy causes.

Gradually, the two open up and all is not quite as it initially seems with either. And each does, indeed, learn from the other to become a more rounded person.

Chaudhry’s writing shows promise and there are some genuine laugh-out-loud moments as the cast delivers dry one-liners. But the two girls’ characters, especially that of Zoya, do seem to veer into caricature and so one never truly empathises with their plights, the outcome, perhaps, of exaggerated direction from Alice Chambers. As a result, their individual epiphanies lose a little in the telling. Of the three, the most relatable is Khalil (Sayyid Aki), whose sunny disposition shines through despite the horrors he has experienced before fleeing Syria. Khalil helps to cope by journalling, writing hauntingly in his second language about his life before and after its upheaval. This is powerful stuff and when Aki delivers Khalil’s poetry the house falls silent in close attention. One can’t help but find your spirits buoyed by his outlook and response to his new circumstances,

Kerena Jagpal brings us level-headed Leyla, whom we can’t help but cheer on in her quest to improve the lives of the local community. Jagpal’s Leyla is grounded, but her backstory could perhaps be developed more. Sabrina Nabi’s Zoya is the very epitome of shallow self-interest when we meet her, and Zoya’s tone-deafness continues through most of the action. Despite learning of her difficulties, it’s hard to warm to the character, although Nabi does her best with the material, delivered in a cut-glass accent – all the way from Edgbaston which enables her to look down on her new neighbours from the wilds of…Birmingham.

The set from designer Jida Akil is simple and moves us between locations – the number 50 bus stop, the community centre and the flat the three end up sharing – easily. The transitions are neatly choreographed by Movement Director, Hamza Ali, with the cast’s movements having an occasionally surreal feel that nevertheless supports the flow.

The Rep is to be commended in bringing on new writing from new writers in its Foundry programme: it is clear that Chaudhry has an eye for both character and story and there is evidence of a sharp wit. In addition, the production is part of The Theatre Green Book that seeks to help the industry become more sustainable in its workings, so much of the set and props have been reused or recycled. After its run at The Rep, it is undertaking a local tour of community venues using an electric van for the tour.

Nevertheless, the whole is somewhat predictable which wouldn’t be a problem if the girls’ characters were more three-dimensional – but there is clear promise here.

Runs until 8 February 2025