Review: Statues at Bush Theatre
Azan Ahmed’s two-man play exists on a small and scarcely decorated stage, but bursts at the seams with humour and nuance in its exploration of grief and the price of ambition. Yusuf (played by Ahmed) is a young Muslim British-Pakistani teacher grappling with the death of his father, Mustafa – a man who was physically present, but emotionally absent.
As Yusuf sifts through his father’s old belongings, he finds tapes which transport the narrative to the 80s where we meet a young Mustafa (Ahmed in a vintage jacket) and his friend Omar (played by Jonny Khan), excitedly discussing their dreams of making it big in the hip-hop scene. The play’s momentum picks up here as the two rap about politics, their passions, and the simmering hostility towards their community.
Back in the present day, Yusuf, baffled by the newfound discovery of his father’s poetic talent, begins his new role as Head of English. When rowdy but promising Muslim student, Khalil (played by Khan) goads Yusuf into a heated discussion about whether a Shakespearean hero is a ‘radical,’ the two are forced to confront their own beliefs. Where Yusuf has relied on conformity and codeswitching to rise to the top, Khalil is more preoccupied with interrogating the structures that place boys like him in a box, but the two try to find common ground.
When the parallels drawn between Khalil’s sparky assertions and a young Mustafa’s rebellious desires threaten to become cliché, Ahmed’s original dialogue veers it away from formulaic tropes and towards a stark reminder that the prevailing Western attitude towards young Muslim men was, and continues to be, one of thinly-veiled distrust.
All the characters, bar Khalil and Omar, are played by Ahmed who seamlessly slips into the role of Yusuf’s out-of-touch boss or Aunty Dolly, Mustafa’s well-meaning but interfering sister, who instructs Yusuf on how to serve his biryani to the grieving masses who descend upon his house, but also implores him to listen to the tapes and understand the man his father was. This relationship is not afforded much time but movingly portrays the intergenerational dynamic within South Asian families, earning many a knowing laugh from the audience.
Ahmed and Khan put on compelling performances, skilfully conveying the earnest and self-conscious spirit of young people determined to break free from the societal constraints imposed upon them. But, ultimately, the heart of this play is a bittersweet story of a son grieving the father he loved but barely knew, and realising that he too was once a young man with dreams just like his own.
By Zara Baig