Review

West Yorkshire Playhouse, Leeds

Ever topical, the subject of asylum is explored through the eyes of a 14-year-old boy in Benjamin Zephaniah’s teen novel, Refugee Boy, adapted for the stage by Lemn Sissay. Touring the UK, the show returns to The Playhouse after last year’s debut A slum set with scaffolding, crumbling walls and suitcases piled around the stage represents protagonist, Alem’s displaced life. Industrial-sounding music plays as six cast members dotted around the multi-layered stage frantically run to different spots grabbing at suitcases, again symbolising the upheavals in Alem’s life.

Having dual nationality from both Ethiopia and Eritrea plagues Alem when violent war breaks out over a land dispute on both countries’ border. On the pretence of celebrating Alem’s birthday, his father (played by Andre Squire) takes him to England and leaves him in a hotel room, believing Alem will be safer protected by the UK government, away from the troubles.

Moving from a children’s home to foster parents and courtrooms in between, Refugee Boy tells Alem’s tale of trying to find his identity and a place to call home. Director Gail McIntyre stretches her cast by having them play multiple vastly contrasting parts.

Actors speak back to imaginary characters in the audience and flashbacks broaden the production’s scope. Costume changes occur as the actors walk across stage, transforming them from Fitzgerald family members into suited court officials.

The choreography doesn’t always quite work – oddly synchronised movements in the court scene come to mind and Alem’s flight from the children’s home before he’s relocated. Torch-lit flashbacks are confusing at times, but highly effective in other scenes, recreating the horror of night raids on Alem’s home.

As Alem, Fisayo Akinade, gives a consistently strong performance while others effortlessly switch between characters. When playing Mustapha, Dwayne Scantlebury, provides much of the show’s humour, giving Alem amusing language lessons in youth lingo. Describing a female crush in the home as “hot” and “sweet”, Mustapha confuses Alem who asks: “Hot like fire? You’ve tasted her?”

As Alem acclimatises to UK living, it’s equally entertaining to watch him telling “Your mama” jokes, picking up slang phrases (“Sh*t happens”) and unsuccessfully attempting a hard boy act by threatening a mugger with a cheese knife.

The character of Sweeney, is the complete opposite of Mustapha, highlighting the prejudices Alem faces by calling him “poison... a refugee boy, that’s all”. Profusely swearing as he jumps between suitcases, Dominic Gately captures Sweeney’s restlessness and possible ADHD before impressively transforming into Alem’s calm and caring foster father.

Although funny at times, when Alem gets tragic news from home and Mustapha reveals the truth about his family, Refugee Boy is genuinely moving, making a controversial but poignant comment on the British asylum system: “They let murderers and criminals stay but not us.”

As foster carers, the Fitzgerald family are an odd bunch of characters, providing added mystery to the show as we’re constantly tantalised by hints about an upsetting incident with their previous foster son. Sissay’s script is unsurprisingly poetic (“The walls around me pixelate...”), but a tad confusing at times, making the fast and convincing character shifts from all cast members the show’s greatest strength.

Leo Owen