Hope has a Happy Meal runs from 3 June until 8 July in the Jerwood Theatre Upstairs, Royal Court Theatre London. 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.

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.

Reviews

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. Opening at the prestigious Royal Court in the Jerwood Theatre Upstairs in early June, this production promises to be a captivating experience. This must be leftfield new writing’s sunny summer start. Like Alistair McDowall’s All of It, Tom Fowler’s Hope Has a Happy Meal features striking performances in a story where recognisably painful human emotions — loss of family members — are set in a dystopian vision of the world’s future. In the Upstairs studio space, we arrive in the People’s Republic of Koka Kola, formerly the UK, a hilariously lurid police state where freedoms are acutely curtailed and consumer capitalism is totally dominant. But it’s a dystopia which is drenched with, instead of the usual greyness of Orwellian nightmares, a richly colourful bonanza of bright hues and jolly shopping. Very apt, but what’s the story? 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.

The overall effect is an exciting contribution to contemporary playwriting –it’s art that seems to make your mind go woo-woo. A sort of road trip to the ‘BP Nature Reserve’ (ironic, get it?) ensues as Hope and her comrades search for her estranged sister. Of course, they are hotly pursued by all manner of ominous corporate goons – of whom sinister policeman Wayne C (couldn’t possibly be a coincidence?) is amongst them, motivated by his desire to snatch his son from the infant’s loving aunt. Happily, Hope and Isla interrupt a suicide attempt by distraught forest ranger Alex (Nima Taleghani) and, miraculously recovered from self-immolating depression, he now decides to join the travellers – except here comes evil Wayne. Thankfully the newly undepressed Alex shows just what a hero and a dab hand at combat he is, melting Isla’s heart with his interventions (in the tropiest ‘damsel-in-distress’ way) such that they capture Wayne and continue their journey to Lor’s abode. Although the commune is no longer there – a dystopian sell-out to corporate interests is mentioned but never exploed – the foursome, plus the baby, come together in a sort of domestic idyll – united in the simple pleasures of a cooking rota and as captors of the murderous Wayne.

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The resultant escapade feels part Thelma and Louise, part reverse-Wizard of Oz, and Lucy Morrison’s direction neatly balances the comic beats with darker material, including a nightmarish gameshow hallucination. Felix Scott gives a panoply of excellent performances, from a brutal cop to a hopeless ex-husband, and there is enough vim and vigour to the production that when Isla announces that “this is, like, the best adventure ever!” you’re just about prepared to overlook the horrible thing that’s being sanctioned in the basement. 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. 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. Since learning about the Royal Court, and discovering some of the incredible writers and plays that started here, having my first professional production be here has always been a goal. So yeah, it’s amazing and I’m very excited to finally share the play.

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, the playwright behind the upcoming play Hope has a Happy Meal, spoke to us about the creative process and inspiration of his first full length play. Moreover, he sheds light on the evolving writing process, which, for him, has been a transformative journey of self-education and the discovery of his own political voice. Fowler is a writer to look out for: his text is at turns comical, imaginative and surprising. He gives the actors lots to work with, and Royal Court Associate Director Lucy Morrison adds physical flair and playfulness to the piece. The carnival inspired set is designed by Naomi Dawson and attempts to encapsulate the madness of the world, but doesn’t quite pull it off because the text doesn’t delve deeply enough into the metaphor of capitalism as a circus. 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.Hope has a Happy Meal is a surreal quest story that follows the enigmatic character, Hope, on a frenetic return journey to the hyper-capitalist country she once escaped. In her pursuit, she embarks on a playful exploration of privatisation and capitalism versus community, all while seeking something she left behind. Over the last five years I feel like people on the left across the country have felt the experience of having hope and then losing it, and I wanted the play to reflect that. So ‘hope’ is shown to be beautiful and powerful but unreliable. It can lift you up but then tear you down just as easily. I came up with the title and premise in 2016 when participating in a writers’ group at the Royal Court that was led by Alice Birch. At the time Britain had recently voted to leave the EU, Donald Trump had just been elected president of the US and so, as a result, I heard a lot of people talk about hope as if it had just disappeared overnight. It was from this that I conceived the idea of writing about a woman called Hope trying to come home. 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. 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.