When a working-class boozer calls last orders, racism and xenophobia tear two childhood friends apart in this sensational new play from John Dinneen.
The Jolly Fisherman is the name of a local pub in a white working-class street in Barking, where teenager Alan (Alex Hill) sits every night with his Dad, also called Alan, and their colourful friends, C Section, Double Cream and Fat Pat. It is the epitome of working-class pub culture, but Alan’s new friendship with Muslim Amir (Jonny Khan), who moves onto the street, becomes a microcosm for the changing dynamics of modern Britain and the volatile contemporary nature of the country in an absorbing and intelligent piece of theatre. This is catalysed when, mirroring the financial climate in real life, higher business rates see the boozer go out of business and, years later, coverted in to an Islamic centre, sparking fierce, racist retorts, inspired by a real-life story.
While it is a production which, as it unfolds, leans increasingly into xenophobia and racism, it is also one which uses humour to disarm and draw us into the characters too. Hill’s Alan is sweet and slightly gormless, eager to impress his Dad and his dad’s mates. Alan is the ‘enforcer’ of the pub, which essentially means he gets their drinks and snacks, with The Jolly Fisherman being a place of community and comfort for Alan, his father and men like him. It is here that Dinneen’s writing is so sharp.
Working-class characters such as Alan and those around him are often the punchline for a punch-down on the perceived bigoted stupidity of such communities, yet with the loss of the pub, Dinneen reminds us of the importance of connection and shared interaction, albeit with a warning that this can be corrupted and warped. Dinneen is not generalising, and does not seem to be attacking British pub culture, but instead is rightly unpacking how the perceived ‘loss’ of spaces like pubs is, for some, also a loss of British values, with the resulting fury taken out on those perceived ‘not to be integrating’, a sweeping and toxic mindset.
Yet Dinneen does not shy away from the bigotry, but crafts this in a far smarter manner than slinging slurs, instead using snide remarks and loaded comments by Alan’s mates towards Amir, which pulls the working-class teen further away from his childhood best friend. It is interesting though that many of these come from older characters, a nod perhaps to where Dinneen feels this right-wing rhetoric comes from.
As Alan, Hill is exceptional. Energetic, bubbly and immediately likeable, Alan’s arrival in the play’s opening is humorous and enjoyable. It is clear Dinneen writes Alan to be someone swayed by those around him, yet the disarming positivity of Alan’s character disguises the growing resentment from those around him towards the increasing multiculturalism in the area.
Nevertheless, it takes a while for this part of the story to get going, and instead, Dinneen allows the relationship between Alan and Amir to bloom. Alan brings Amir into The Jolly Fisherman, and here the boys play darts, drink Cokes, and form a typical, normal friendship, spurred on by the gentle landlady Lil. It is a terrific first twenty minutes or so, with the growth of their relationship superb in making its eventual fracturing all the more painful.
Khan’s terrific depiction of Amir draws out his vulnerability and anxiety as Britain shifts around him, never quite feeling accepted or assured, and indeed Dinneen makes a point in the work to demonstrate how it is Amir who adapts, praying in the pub’s back room. That said, one of the piece’s highlights is when Alan goes to pray in the mosque with Amir, in a neatly crafted exchange that reinforces both the pair’s shared bond and their common humanity.
While it is richly funny, it is also a prescient warning about the direction Dinneen clearly feels Britain may be heading, and there is truth in that. This is woven superbly into the play’s final moments, reaching a poignant and tantalising finale that both satisfies and also leans into the notion that more work on the issue needs to be done.
It is a remarkable feat of this play that, in such a confined space, and over just an hour, it can make such big comments in such a ‘state-of-the-nation’ manner. This is a show written with precision, inviting audiences into their relationship and, over ten years, how the friendship shifts within Britain, markedly changing over time, connecting societal uncertainty with the rise of intolerance. Yet at its heart, it is a play about friendship, community and a reminder to us all about the values we want, and we don’t want, in a modern Britain.
The Jolly Fisherman might have closed its doors, but it is not time for last orders for this piece just yet. An insightful piece of theatre.
