There’ve been many things that have made me feel ashamed to be British in the last decade or so, one of which was the treatment of the Windrush generation. Many had been here for more than fifty years but were forced to prove their right to citizenship and threatened with deportation. Lenny Henry’s first play tells us the story of the life of a (fictional) man who came here with his mother in 1962.
For a good two-thirds of its a very funny biographical piece, taking us through the events in August’s life that he shares with many others – school, work, marriage, children. He shares his pride, his shame, his frustrations at events in his life, but he’s been a happy man, latterly a partner in a business, happily married with three adult children. The only inkling we have of his fate is the occasional snatch of video showing him in some sort of interview room. Then the letters start arriving from Capita on behalf of the Home Office. The play goes on to show us the impact of this persecution by the authorities, and ends with the video testimony of three real victims.
In many ways, the bonhomie lulls you into a false sense of security. Lenny Henry engages the audience from the outset, distributing some shots of rum, inventing characters, breaking the fourth wall continually. The sad moments, such as a touch of infidelity and estrangement from his son, soon pass and we are left with this charming, lovable man telling us his life story with great humour. The storytelling has a stand-up feel to it, perhaps not surprisingly given Henry’s background, which connects brilliantly with the audience, whose reactions are often audible. When the legal challenges rear their ugly heads it bites hard as a result.
I’ve admired Henry’s transition to actor since he was brave enough to begin it with the challenge that is Othello, and I’ve been lucky enough to see him on stage four more times in the subsequent fourteen years. He’s totally at home in this role; well, he did write it, and the writing os good, oozing authenticity, funny and moving in equal measure.
The run is sold out, but I’d be very surprised if doesn’t transfer; it deserves to.