Now or Later
Royal Court, London
IT’S election night in the United States and the Democrats are poised for victory. Change is coming and hopes are high that there will be a more sensible foreign policy. Suddenly, there is a glitch. Pictures of the President’s son attending a party are being posted on the internet. He is dressed as the Prophet Muhammad.
Full marks, then, to the Royal Court for contemporary drama with Now or Later. And full marks also go to writer Christopher Shinn for tackling the subject of censorship (and self-censorship), as John, the President’s son, refuses to apologise for his actions.
John, you see, is not xenophobic. He did not do this as a prank or some kind of “Look at me I’m so funny dressed as a Muslim” gag. Rather, he is making a statement. In seminars, his fellow liberal students in seminars condemn any action that may be deemed anti-Islamic, such as some criticising some Muslim attitudes towards sex. At night, hypocritically, they attend naked parties. If you don’t know what a naked party is, you have an additional reason for going to this play.
John finds that and being the son of a national figure carries responsibilities, irrespective of which country. (Didn’t Prince Harry once dress up as a Nazi?) Add to that the hostility of the Muslim world, as yet more civilians are killed by US bombs, and you can understand why we ought to tread carefully where such matters are concerned
Herein lies one weakness of Now or Later. John is articulate and politically aware, yet doesn’t seem to understand this need for sensitivity. True, you can switch on Newsnight and hear one liberal defending the right of near-absolute free speech while another counters with the need to take due consideration of cultural and religious factors, but the necessity of compromise should surely be obvious to the son of the leader of the free world.
The second weakness of the play is that, at times, it almost seems as if you are actually watching Newsnight. This is meant to be drama, yet not two minutes into the production, John and his friend Matt are theorising about how the Republicans managed to define the political narrative after the 1992 election.
In defence, it can be pointed out that John is gay and his intransigence is a reaction to the treatment of homosexuals in Muslim societies. The writer also introduces a personal dimension with John having recently split up from his boyfriend. The ex-partner thought they should be free to sleep with whomsoever they wanted and John didn’t. It was not that his boyfriend had slept with anyone else – they were monogamous – but he felt he had the right to do as he pleased.
What really works is the characterisation. The President’s wife is not a mere doormat, but sassy. So, too, is the play’s other female, his political advisor. The President is thoughtful and generally sympathetic, even if his intentions are obvious. The press secretary is a bit of a cardboard cut-out, but then you suspect quite a few of them are in reality.
Free speech, the curbing of it and the threats to it were all covered extensively with the Danish cartoons furore, and the debate will doubtless resurface again in different guises in different countries. The debate also raged 20 years ago with the publication of The Satanic Verses. So perhaps this play is not so contemporary after all. Certainly, Now or Later never achieves the urgency that the title suggests.
Richard Woulfe
