For three young British Pakistani men, sitting in the shisha lounge is a bonding experience, a haven where they can chat, reminisce and dream of a bigger future. Yet the sanctity of this hub, and their friendship, is threatened by betraying exploitative journalism in this sizzling revival of Mohamed-Zain Dada’s comedy Blue Mist, following its acclaimed run at the Royal Court in 2023.
Under the neon lights of ‘Chunkyz’, a shisha lounge owned by the mercurial, never-seen Chunky (voiced by Sanjeev Bhaskar), puffing away on hookah pipes, are Asif (Kashif Ghole), a charming yet unfiltered soul, anxious about his financial situation and familial stability, and aspiring gym owner Rashid (Azan Ahmed), whose teenage conviction for GBH, an act of self-defence against a racist attack, still lingers. For both the pair, their lives have stagnated, drifting between jobs, finances and love lives in a manner which Dada’s writing brings great clarity to the difficulties facing young Muslim men in the UK. Yet rounding off the trio is Jihad (Omar Bynon), a university graduate with aspirations of being an investigative journalist, and whose short radio series looking into shisha culture soon threatens to destroy the very community and friendships he holds dear.
As Jihad, Bynon succeeds in drawing out Jihad’s aspirations for something greater than his current situation, while also reconciling with the actions of his journalistic behaviour. Swayed by the media company he is working for and keen to impress, Jihad soon manipulates the recordings of his friends and his community into something more problematic, leaning more heavily into stereotypical views about shisha lounges, young Pakistani men and Islamic faith. The result is ostracisation, with Dada’s message a painful one about the sacrifices seemingly needed to succeed in a predominantly white, middle-class, career environment.
Yet, the decision to submerge the set into the stage floor pulls the performers away from the audience a little too much, with Tomás Palmer’s designs a little more suited to its original Royal Court upstairs intimacy than the expansive Stratford East proscenium arch. This, compounded by Milli Bhatia’s direction, which throws us from naturalism to absurdism, to areas in between, means it takes a little while to settle, eager to be ambitious and inventive, a bit like Jihad, but risking a sense of uncertainty too.
Even so, Blue Mist still excels because of the power of its performers. Alongside Bynon, Ghole is terrific as Asif, largely hiding behind a goofy, quick-to-laughter exterior. Yet, he is someone clearly deflecting a feeling of anxiety where he feels unsure about his own place within the world. Meanwhile, Ahmed’s Rashid, assertive and flashy, continues to wrestle with his problematic past in a way that intrigues Jihad’s media mentors, but is representative of a life he wants to leave behind rather than unpack once more.
Despite only a few minor missteps, Blue Mist succeeds because of its bold, imaginative and innovative attempts to explore the young, male, British Pakistani experience. To this end, it certainly feels like a play with a very sharp target audience in mind, yet its broader ideas about identity, loyalty and friendship are both presented here universally, and in a manner which feels urgent.
A brief but thought-provoking comedy, and an insightful look at the young male British Pakistani experience.
