Hope Has a Happy Meal (NHB Modern Plays)

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With all that said, the show as a whole doesn’t work. There are some fantastical moments, including a bizarre gameshow hosted by a makeshift Ronald McDonald which doesn’t add anything, and some soap opera drama cliches are thrown into the plot (think Chekhov’s gun) which don’t feel fully earned. More surprising moments could have been created had there been more time, space and dramaturgy for Fowler to utilise his clearly vivid imagination. Hope Has A Happy Meal is now playing at the Royal Court Theatre until 8 July. A captioned performance is scheduled for 28 June, with a relaxed performance on 8 July. Tom Fowler has cooked up a s atiric al allegoric al quest of a pl ay, where a collection of r ag-t ag ch ar acters struggle to survive in the People’s Republic of Kok a Kol a (the PRKK) a post-democr atic country now in the full throes of hyper-c apit al ism and run by corpor ate gi ants (the he ad of the country is a CEO). But the piece also loses its w ay just as the m ain ch ar acter, Hope, st arts to find hers.

The most mentally explosive experience, in the main Downstairs space, is McDowall’s trilogy of short plays, which are all performed by Kate O’Flynn in what must surely be a career-defining event. The first 20 minutes is Northleigh, 1940, in which a young woman joins her father in their Morrison shelter, a wire-mesh tomb-like container on the floor of the dining room, during a wartime air raid. Starting with the elevated and inflated tone of lyrical poetry –“Alone, on ashen sands that yearned beyond/ All measure known in realms familiar” –the piece then grounds itself in northern everyday chat, before evoking, more abstractly, the falling German bombs. It’s intriguing and allusive, but less impressive than the next two monologues. Beyond naming places after brands and a message on the plane, there isn’t really the sense of a hyper-capitalist dictatorship. The play could have as easily been set in modern Britain with only a few changes. There should have been more sponsorships, more intrusion, and a greater sense that they are being spied on. In reality, Elon Musk is suggesting a future that includes serfdom on Mars, companies drape themselves in LGBTQ+ flags whilst funding hate groups and clothes manufacturers say their products represent freedom, even as they are made in sweatshops – all more ridiculous and dystopian than is presented here. Hope has a Happy Meal is designed by Naomi Dawson, with lighting design by Anna Watson, sound design by Annie May Fletcher and movement direction by Jonnie Riordan.We could have done with more time touching upon the reasons Ali wanted his life to end when Hope and Isla come across him, and at least one moment where the dreaded c-word is blamed for something, but it seems Fowler and Morrison wanted that to be implied, rather than asserted. Hope Has A Happy Meal fails at both, with not much to take away. Heading to the BP Nature Reserve where Hope believes her sister is living, they are helped to evade the authorities en route by a passenger on the Koka Kola Railway and a lorry driver who likes American country music.

During the next 20 minutes In Stereo shows O’Flynn’s lonely narrator experiencing a psychotic episode in which the actor’s recorded voiceover tells the supernatural story of a damp stain on the wall which gradually takes over her life. Alone on stage with a television, the silent O’Flynn moves warily as her entire life begins to be consumed not only by the growing mould around her, but also by fractures of her self as her words splinter into several simultaneous and competing voices. McDowall shows how the mottled room, itself a character, will outlive this one woman and will absorb the lives of future generations until climate change washes over everyone. Hope has a Happy Meal runs from 3 June until 8 July in the Jerwood Theatre Upstairs, Royal Court Theatre London. Despite the det ails of the post-democr atic corpor ate country being too light, it’s still ple asing. It’s just th at such an environment needs to h ave a gre ater imp act on the life dec isions m ade by the ch ar acters. The ch ar acters’ lives ch ange forever at the end of the show, but th is is less to do with corpor ate cruelty and more to do with dysfunction al person alities.Opening at the prestigious Royal Court in the Jerwood Theatre Upstairs in early June, this production promises to be a captivating experience.

Where Hope Has A Happy Meal does falter, is in the elements of satire and allegory. Hope’s character is too detailed to be an allegorical version of the concept and the other characters do not seem to represent anything outside of themselves. This is in part because the writing and performances of those characters aren’t flat enough for allegory but also because The People’s Republic of Koka Kola never really comes to life. Despite the strong writing, the one thing I can’t quite understand is the link to capitalism. The asides to the future capitalistic world (e.g. Facebook Forest, Koka Kola Airlines, and Disney Quarry), are funny, but that’s just about it. I wish there were more ‘rules’ about this government and world to establish the setting more. It is very intriguing and has so much potential. I wish it would link itself more to the main storyline. Credit: Helen Murray Tom Fowler’s gently amusing play has all the ingredients of a fast-moving road movie, satirically flavoured by a context of rampant capitalism. I really like the way that Fowler parodies the banal pronouncements of those in power, and his evident sympathy for the marginalized and the needy. There is also something very allusive in his writing: the mention of Strawberry Fields commune brings to mind the Beatles song “Eleanor Rigby” when, some time later, it becomes evident that we are dealing with a situation that could be described as “all the lonely people, where do they all come from?” I also like the psychological insights, expressed perhaps most directly in the clown game show sequence, and the drunken episode when Hope and Lor get plastered. Yet anger and violence step on the toes of all the humour. Despite all the jokes, notions of loss and death give the piece its much needed shadows.As well as the family feud, Hope Has A Happy Meal tries to ground itself in the theological, what with all the angel symbolism and talk of – and to– the deceased. It doesn’t quite land, though, as Isla’s talk to Isaac about everyone growing up ‘damaged’ these days was a missed opportunity to bring up capitalism’s effect on our mental health (what with the drive towards productivity and everything), as was one of Hope’s final monologues which essentially boils down to ‘perhaps we’re all just finding it hard right now’. Perhaps indeed, but every chance this play has to underscore just how hard we’re finding everything is never realised – not least when the narrative moves so fast.