What Is A Pipe Dream?: A Review of Blue Mist at Leeds Playhouse
Jess Cooper reviews the story of hope, heartbreak and hidden agendas that lies behind Blue Mist.
Let me start by saying this: Blue Mist is unabashedly loud.
In fact, the play – currently on its UK tour – announces itself abruptly with a loud jolt of noise. Blue Mist is punctuated with volume, whether that be a rap about ‘serious journalism’, a rendition of A Spoonful of Sugar or uncomfortable radio broadcasts. But, Blue Mist is also boldly loud in its subject matter and faces what many in this country find to be difficult conversations head on.
Mohamed-Zain Dada’s writing coupled with Milli Bhatia’s directing addresses the mistreatment and demonisation of Muslim communities in the media, with Blue Mist taking the lives of young Pakistani men and their community spaces as an example. As I say, a loud topic in the current state of affairs.
The story follows three best friends, Jihad (Omar Bynon), Rashid (Azan Ahmed) and Asif (Kashif Ghole), and their regular hangouts at shisha lounge Chunkyz owned by the elusive Chunky, which is joyfully voiced by Sanjeev Bhaskar. Each has their own ‘pipe dream’, but perhaps the grandest of them all lies with Jihad.
He is the only university graduate of the group and he aspires to be a journalist. Rashid and Asif encourage him to follow this path, whilst each working to their own; Rashid wishes to open a safe space gym for the older women in his community, whilst Asif angles for a promotion at work to provide a living for his mother and brother.
The dynamics between the three is what makes the story soar. All of the boys feel alive with authenticity and comedy. Physical performances from Ahmed and Ghole perfectly contrast Bynon’s grounded approach to Jihad and the friendship between these three provides the building blocks of why this story is so hopeful and later heartbreaking.
For most of the show’s runtime, we fall in love with the connection they have with each other, through struggles and successes. In a time where masculinity is a hotly debated topic, it is beautiful to see loyal and loving male friendships on stage in a way that reminds every audience member of the boys they would’ve grown up around.
This friendship proves crucial for our main character’s pipe dream. When Jihad is offered the opportunity of a lifetime to enter a journalism competition at Ajami Media, the three concoct the idea for the pitch to be inspired by their home turf of Chunkyz. What follows is a series of poignant conversations and discussions (sometimes wrapped up neatly under the guise of comedy) about what shisha lounges mean to these young Muslim men and more importantly, why these spaces are the backbone of multiculturalism in this country. An inspiring media story that spotlights an often poorly represented community which earns Jihad the title of winner of the Ajami Media competition.
Yet, his journey is far from simple, as he faces scrutiny from higher-ups at the outlet and is pressured into twisting his story into something more sinister. Jihad faces a choice: does he chase his pipe dream to one day earn journalistic freedom or follow his authentic voice? This conflict, one that plagues many who feel tokenized for being different to the norm, lies at the centre of Blue Mist.
It’s a fascinating perspective on the media industry at large and what it takes to break into it when you aren’t the standard. Jihad’s distress and anxiety at his conflict is portrayed in a harrowingly relatable way. Whether it is as if he is losing his voice, being caged in by other’s expectations, feeling isolated from his friends or being questioned on his true values, it is portrayed in a starkly contrasting way to the supportive and safe home of Chunkyz. Bynon brings this almost hidden side of Jihad to life incredibly well, alongside stunning visual design that demonstrates the warmth of Chunkyz and the coldness of Ajami Media.
Isn’t this the debate many of us face in our day to day? How willing are we to lose our voice, whether that is as a creative, a journalist, an employee, a family member or a friend, for success and comfort? We can never blame Jihad for either path he takes. Each decision has messy consequences.
At the conclusion of Blue Mist, Jihad wins an industry award for the story he chooses to tell. He has finally broken into the world of journalism. But at what cost?
Jihad’s pitch to Ajami Media is entitled ‘Pipe Dreams’. An ode to how far off our goals and desires may seem. Yet at the end of the day they belong to us. They are our dreams. Regardless of where we come from, what we may be labelled as or what our history is. Dada’s debut is energetic and soulful, exploring the lengths we would go to follow our dreams. Even in industries that don’t respect us.
The show ends with our lead character, who we now adore and yet despise, reciting the poem “White Applause in The North of England’ by Jamal Mehmood. The irony is not lost on us as an audience. Our characters have ended in their distinct destinations because of this white applause and their refusal or willingness to bow down to it.
Blue Mist isn’t a perfect story, but it is a story that needs to be told more in a divided England about the importance of building community, why multiculturalism is a friend rather than a foe and what truth really means.
Many thanks to the team at Leeds Playhouse for once again allowing us to witness such incredible storytelling at their venue. Blue Mist is on tour in the UK until the 30th July.
Words by Jess Cooper