Writer: Shamia Chalabi and Sarah Henley
Director: Sepy Baghaei
It is unwise to judge a book by the cover. Yet the poster for Habibti Driver, a stylish tribute to the movie Baby Driver, certainly raises hopes as to the possible quality of the play.
Egyptian-born divorcee Ashraf (Dana Haqjoo) resides in Wigan and drives a taxi for his older brother Yusuf (Hemi Yeroham). The latter is critical of the behaviour of Ashraf’s daughter Shazia (Shamia Chalabi who co-wrote the play with Sarah Henley) for refusing to conform to Muslim norms. Shazia is trying to get up the courage to tell her father she intends to marry her long-term (but secret and decidedly non-Muslim) boyfriend Chris (Timothy O’Hara). But Ashraf also has a surprise – during a recent visit to Egypt he married, and brought back to Wigan, Yasmin (Houda Echouafni).
Helen Coyston’s set creates a restless mood of transition with opportunities for comic confusion; the characters constantly shifting from one location to another. As if they have stepped out of a Bruce Springsteen song the characters analyse their relationships, air grievances, argue and exchange punches while sitting, sprawling and fighting on a collection of car seats.
Comedy and jokes are frequently cruel; their impact coming from a sense of shocked outrage turning to joy as conventions and boundaries are challenged. The script by Shamia Chalabi and Sarah Henley, however, carefully avoids any gags or situations which might cause offence. Digs at cultural or religious differences are resolutely low-key: English people hold the pub in the same regard as Muslims do the Mosque.
Yet while there is nothing to cause offence there is little that will make an audience roar with laughter. Only Houda Echouafni is allowed to move into broad, almost caricature style, comedy getting laughs from struggling with English phrases and confounding expectations with her broad-minded attitudes.
Habibti Driver lacks a villain to create tension and drama. There is a low-key running gag suggesting Shazia’s constant references to ‘the patriarchy’ is a knee-jerk reaction rather than a sincere belief. Yet all of the characters seem to take the same casual approach to faith or principles being more concerned with simply getting on with their lives.
The character of Yusuf does not convince as someone whose religious mania blighted his brother’s first marriage, limited his ambitions, and now threatens his relationship with his daughter. The behaviour of Ashraf, rather than determined by an overbearing relation or the need to adhere to religious conventions, seems shaped by his desire to please as many people as possible. Boyfriend Chris tends to put his foot in his mouth, but his gaffs are of an innocent nature that could be resolved by an apology rather than provoke outrage. There is a marked lack of tension in the first act so the argument between the characters at the climax seems more a squabble than a dramatic revelation of irreconcilable differences.
The play works best as a generational, rather than religious or cultural, comedy. Ashraf’s reaction on finding Shazia drunk and dressed for a night on the town is the baffled reaction of a father to the misbehaviour of a wayward daughter rather a devout believer taking offence at a heretic. Shazia’s desire to rebel against the conventions of her parents/ community (and twinges of guilt at the stress caused to her father) is a common experience of young people. Her surprise that Yasmin is not the predatory gold-digger she expected brings understated charm to the play.
The lack of suspense mutes the humour in the first act. Director Sepy Baghaei seems more comfortable with the physical humour that arises in the second half. A superbly staged extended fight between Dana Haqjoo and Hemi Yeroham removes any dignity from their characters and reduces the conflict between the brothers to a childish playground spat.
It is admirable Octagon Theatre is willing to produce a brand-new play, rather than play safe with one by an established author, on their main stage. Baby Driver is an endearing comedy that negotiates the minefield of political and religious sensitivities with skill. At times, however, this sensitive approach reduces the humour in this warm-hearted show.
Runs until 7 May, 2022
