Bittersweet

By Daniel Nelson Emteaz Hussain says she ran away and took shelter in a women’s refuge when she was 16, so it’s not surprising that the central characters in her first play, Sweet Cider, are two young British Asian women who have run away from home. The subject has drawn criticism. Commented one “young, British, Pakistani, female” critic: “I am desperate to see a well-scripted and well-performed play about British Pakistani life that also manages to resonate beyond what have now become familiar (and sadly, often predictable) cliches. “Arranged marriages; the angst-ridden search for ‘identity’; the parental/familial conflict; the desperation, misery and difficulty of being oppressed and repressed by cultural heritage? The issue-based plays of the 1980s tackled these notions… While some young, British Pakistani girls do suffer awful experiences - the sporadic, sensationalist headlines of honour killings and forced marriages can tell us that much - we really should remember that these are the exception rather than the norm.” But since when was theatre about the norm? This old, British, male critic found the writing sharp, the acting good, the 60-minute production pacey. And there are pleasures to be had from the linguistic and social crossovers of British Pakistani life. It’s true, however, that the pleasures are those of recognition rather than revelation. That is also true of the sub-plots, the relationship between the girls and the sharp Asian street-dealer, and between the young Pakistani and the white boy. My Beautiful Laundrette got there first, years ago. The paciness of the dialogue and of the production – a rapid succession of short scenes – helps suspend disbelief in the older Asian woman who spends her waking hours in the park in which the characters strut their lives. Her unlikely presence frames the play, a sort of solo Asian Greek chorus. The paceyness also substitutes for character development. Depth will come with experience. In the meantime, there’s no doubt that Emteaz Hussain has talent and that this is a promising first work, with wit, intelligence and emotion. The title? Hussain explains: “I was 16 when I ended up in an Asian women’s refuge. On my second night there, the girls took me to a pub - I had never been in a pub in my life! I had no idea what to drink and how to ask for it. The girls told me to ask for sweet cider: ‘it’s like apple juice,’ they said. So I asked for a glass of sweet cider, and the bar staff replied, ‘would you like half or a pint?’ I felt so stupid! ‘Say half,’ the girls said. “I was a real innocent abroad. And this is where the title came from. Perhaps this is a generational thing, but sweet cider seemed to be the first drink a lot of people drank. And for me certainly the first drink I got really absolutely totally out-of-my-head on. So it kind of represents entering the adult world, being involved in something that’s fun and equally dangerous. And the bittersweetness of life.” * Sweet runs at the Arcola Theatre, 27 Arcola Street, E8, until 15 November

 Printable version