This play attempts to shed light on topics the company, Angry Bairds Productions, believe ‘no one wants to talk about’: Religious extremism; Islamophobia, drug addiction, suicide, domestic abuse. Sadly, the script resorts to hyperbolic stereotypes as opposed to creating a narrative or set of characters worthy of expressing the complex nature of the issues it seeks to explore.
Rejecting her Islamic background and calling for the closure of a nearby mosque, Sameera Mohammed (who longs to adopt her stage name of Coco) has risen to fame by progressing to the televised final of a pole dancing competition. Natasha Atherton does well to instil this part with a fervent sense of reckless energy but the text doesn’t allow either her, or indeed any of the actors, the opportunity to deliver a convincing, authentic performance. Max, her possessive boyfriend, undergoes a capricious, unexpected change of character, keeping Coco confined within the flat before sexually assaulting her. This unfounded shift in behaviour verges on the ridiculous rather than ever appearing truly disturbing.
Pole Factor becomes all the more bizarre and unintentionally comical in the final scenes. Hanif Ahmed, played by Farhan Khan, a drug addict who is tortured by the authorities for sleeping in a mosque and loitering in garages behind football fields, performs truly strange deeds. To Kahn’s credit, he conveys a genuine sense of despair in these conclusive moments yet, once again, his performance cannot break free from the limitations of the script and ultimately was received with uncomfortable splutters of laughter.
To some extent, this production should be commended for its ambition. It attempts to investigate a wide variety of topics relevant to contemporary discourse and, at times, does so in an interesting manner: YouTube clips of fanatical young girls seeking to emulate their newly found idol; interviews with far-right skinheads and religious fundamentalists appearing on screen.
If Nazish Kahn, the playwright, specifically focussed on the dichotomy between religion and a young girl’s desire to live without restraint, it could’ve been engaging, perhaps even intriguing. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the case. Go back to the blank page, I’d advise, concentrate on the ramifications behind Coco’s sudden celebrity and examine in greater depth her Islamic heritage.
I applaud the ambition. Still, a far greater sense of subtle, implicit criticism is required before Pole Factor becomes a play of any merit.
