Writer: Suhaiymah Manzoor-Khan
Director Sameena Hussain; Designer Khadija Raja
Reviewer: Farhana Shaikh
Rating: 4.5 stars
What does it mean to be young, Muslim, and fall for someone when you’re not looking for love? This question is central to Manzoor-Khan’s debut play, Peanut Butter and Blueberries, which opened at the Kiln Theatre last night (14 August).
Hafsah and Bilal are both MA students at SOAS. She’s a serious, bookish, gender studies student writing a sci-fi novella. Wanting to connect to Pahari, Bilal is scraping by with the ‘bane of my bleeding life’ South Asian studies. The pair bond over a sandwich and needing subtitles to watch an old Bollywood movie. They’re both Pakistanis from the same ‘specific square of land’. They form an unlikely friendship knowing they are part of a bigger, unfolding, often politicised story.
The actors, Humera Syed who plays ‘talks a mile a minute’ feminist Hafsah and Usaamah Ibraheem Hussain as mysterious, cheeky Bilal with a ‘full on Brummie accent’ do well to carry the audience’s attention for this 95-minute sharp-witted, fast-talking two-hander. The dialogue, sharp and crisp, cuts through whether the actors are addressing each other, or the audience directly. There are moments of lightness and joy which left me chuckling and those that were raw, truth-bombs that left me in tears.
Khadija Raja’s set design is bare except for a revolving stage. It is used to good effect to mark scene changes with minimal props: a couple of chairs, a park bench, a few scatter cushions, and a writing desk. It works well for this simply told ‘will they or won’t they?’ story that spans a year, taking us from early days in class to results day. The added layer of complexity is that our young couple are practicing Muslims who are trying to live intentionally in the path of Allah and that means ‘no touching.’ It works. The cafe scene where rain-soaked Hafsah arrives with exciting news and Bilal leans in to wipe the rain from her glasses, feels oddly intimate.
Because nothing is perfect (except Allah), there are some minor frustrations. At times the actors run in circles, sometimes towards each other and at other times in opposite directions. While this might reflect their inner turmoil it adds little more than a moment of pause and music. We do need a moment to let the weight of their decisions sit with us too. Sometimes the politics becomes a bit too much. The tug-at-your-heartstrings twist and turn ending felt a little choppy.
In the absence of touch and even technology (for all but Bilal’s phone call), this play reminds us that love is both resistance and care. Its authentic portrayal of Muslims gives us a rare insight into an aspect of faith that is often overlooked in favour of polarising narratives. Commissioned by Indhu Rubasingham and the last of her programming before she takes the helm at the National Theatre next year, this production serves as a timely reminder of what is possible when writers have the freedom to tell their own stories.
Peanut Butter and Blueberries runs til 31 August at Kiln Theatre.
