Writer: Tom Fowler
Director: Lucy Morrison
Hope has a Happy Meal is a tragic-comic-satiric-allegory in which Hope returns to the People’s Republic of Koka Kola after a 27-year absence. From her first day back she finds herself on the run as she also seeks to connect with her family.
Laura Checkley’s Hope is something of an everywoman at the beginning. She’s open and talks to everyone, telling the plane passenger next to her a shaggy dog story and casually falling in with a waitress at the first bar she comes to. However, there’s a nightmare sequence just after this meeting, where a famous and un-named clown (hint: he has a bright red wig and a fondness for burgers) tortures her for being ‘the worst person in the world’. When she reunites with her sister, the relationship is strained and she reveals that there’s a serious purpose to her return and she’s not the happy-go-lucky figure she first appeared. Her change is subtle but she becomes a far more nuanced character than her seemingly allegorical name suggests.
Mary Malone’s Isla is the waitress Hope meets. She’s looking after her dead sister’s baby who is being hunted by the baby’s father, a policeman. Ali is a forest-keeper they meet on the way, who lost his job after the Facebook Forest has been knocked down to build flats. He’s loveable but dim and gets most of the funniest lines. Amaka Okafor plays Hope’s sister Lor, who resents her for running away and much of the middle of the play is about the re-establishment of their relationship. These actors also play other parts, with Felix Scott having the most fun as the aforementioned un-named clown (coulrophobia is mentioned in the play’s content warnings). Nima Teleghani’s characters suffer from being too samey, the tone and cadences that make Ali a loveable character are present in all of them.
Lucy Morrison’s direction and Naomi Dawson’s set come together really well. The set is a neon-lit, multi-levelled structure which provides a number of locations, from a flat, to a dock, to a train toilet. Starting at the top, each scene takes place on the next level down until reaching the acting space on the floor where the middle of the play happens, before ascending the structure again and ending the play back at the top. It’s a very tidy way to block the show and the garish colours and fast-food motifs reflect the corporate nightmare world presented at the beginning.
Where Hope Has A Happy Meal does falter, is in the elements of satire and allegory. Hope’s character is too detailed to be an allegorical version of the concept and the other characters do not seem to represent anything outside of themselves. This is in part because the writing and performances of those characters aren’t flat enough for allegory but also because The People’s Republic of Koka Kola never really comes to life.
Beyond naming places after brands and a message on the plane, there isn’t really the sense of a hyper-capitalist dictatorship. The play could have as easily been set in modern Britain with only a few changes. There should have been more sponsorships, more intrusion, and a greater sense that they are being spied on. In reality, Elon Musk is suggesting a future that includes serfdom on Mars, companies drape themselves in LGBTQ+ flags whilst funding hate groups and clothes manufacturers say their products represent freedom, even as they are made in sweatshops – all more ridiculous and dystopian than is presented here.
Aside from the underdone setting, Hope has a Happy Meal manages to be both funny and exciting, with well-written and enjoyably performed characters and confident, clear direction. It succeeds at being a very engaging play, even if it doesn’t achieve everything it wants to.
Runs until 8 July 2023
The Reviews Hub Score
Not the satire it wants to be
