It is the warning in the programme that fills one with great unease. In a country that prides itself on inclusion, the UK once ranked at the top of the ILGA Europe Rainbow Index, which tracked the freedoms and rights of LGBTQ+ people. This was in 2015. Yet eleven years later, the UK has slipped in 2026, and amid the rise in more extremist views, the story of Billy and Zafar, two gay men with Pakistani heritage living in Britain, makes this deft love story as urgent as it is poignant.
Returning to the Bush Theatre after a breakout, award-winning run in 2022, The P Word reunites its original cast and creative team for yet another great success. Over just under 100 minutes, the play weaves together the lives of Billy (Waleed Akhtar, who also writes) and Zafar (Esh Alladi). Billy, a confident British Pakistani, is openly gay and, at face value, enjoys moving from casual hookup to casual hookup, with the instant gratification of sex and the fetishisation of his skin and race seemingly a turn on for both him and his frequent partners. Billy’s character, free to express himself, his views, and his sexuality, stands in great contrast to Alladi’s Zafar, who has escaped persecution in Pakistan after being horrifically beaten by his family and seeing his long-term gay lover murdered. Zafar is seeking asylum, pushed around in a distrusting system which neglects humanity and the need for compassion regarding his traumatising experiences.
Yet, despite the burgeoning relationship that forms between the pair in this powerful, atypical romcom, they spend much of the first half of the piece apart, confined to their own halves of Max Johns’ rotating circular set, a neat reminder of their similarities and differences. On one side, director Anthony Simpson Pike has Billy stride and strut, bouncing from fling to fling with an energy that represents the terrific social freedom he has. Meanwhile, on the other side, Zafar paces up and down, frantic in his desperation to find sanctuary, reconciling with the horrors he has suffered but also metaphorically caged by the callous, faceless asylum process.
Akhtar’s portrayal of Billy is a neat contrast of flamboyance and vulnerability. Billy, who is actually named Bilal but has anglicised his name, appears unwilling to embrace his Pakistani roots, firmly detaching himself from his family, who evoke anxiety. The character is an intriguing exploration of sexuality, but also the complexities of an individual of mixed heritage, particularly when half of their background is unrecognisable to them. Billy even goes as far as to use slurs, hence the play’s title, in a manner which is surprisingly shocking, and one that causes conflict between him and Zafar, deflecting Billy’s own lack of assurance about his sense of self. Akhtar’s writing is especially profound here, as Billy’s initial bravado, priding himself on being a dominant force in the bedroom, is deliberately deceptive to shadow the clear insecurities he has, which his relationship with Zafar helps him to face.
As Zafar, Alladi is superb in crafting a character wrecked by violence and grief, while clinging to a hope of freedom in Britain. Zafar’s relentless positivity is remarkable, but as the threat of deportation looms dangerously close as the play reaches its surprisingly thrilling climax, Zafar’s sense of fear is palpable, and a reminder that, despite media sensationalism, nodded to during an excruciatingly cruel scene with border control, the overwhelming majority of asylum seekers are genuinely seeking protection. Yet, that is not to say that the play is without humour. Akhtar’s writing weaves great comedy into the dialogue, with Zafar’s understanding of the English language, and one particularly crass phrase, provoking a terrific payoff, while his dramatic infatuation with modern Bollywood movies helps to rekindle Billy’s own connection with his Asian roots.
While the piece works well when the pair are apart, it really comes alive once the two interact. From their initial friendship to the spark of something more, Akhtar and Alladi are fantastic in building something between the men which feels raw and authentic, despite their polar opposite positions in life. Billy’s fierce defence of Zafar reaches its extremity in the play’s final moments, which feel even more timely since the play’s 2022 debut, and is sweet and genuine, providing the foundation for a sweet romance that matches its romcom status.
That said, it is the play’s final, intelligent tonal shift in its last few pages where the production’s message really lands. For Billy and Zafar, their Bollywood ending looks like it will happen, but for the 1300 individuals who claim asylum based on their sexuality outside the world of the play, their happy ending looks less certain.
