Invisible. Bush Theatre.

Nikhil Parmar’s comedy monologue about the near-invisibility of black and brown actors has oodles of charm and packs a hefty punch.

28 June 2022 Press Night

Nikhil Parmar, aside from being easy on the eye and a very talented writer, is the kind of performer that an audience instantly takes a like to. He is also very good at accents, has perfect comic timing, and demonstrates formidable acting skills.

All of this helps explain why Invisible, which starts as a mix between stand-up routine, comedy monologue and drama school audition, and ends as a passionate polemic against racism in film and television casting, is so damn good. In fact, this short production, one of the first in the 50th birthday season at the Bush, is a gem.

The show opens with the music of James Bond, deliberate irony perhaps given the unlikelihood that an actor of Asian actor will ever be asked to play 007, and a rhetorical series of questions from Parmar – “Is this show by me?” “Is it of me?” or “Is it about me?” The question is never really answered, but there is never a doubt that the story is born of the performer’s own experiences and frustrations.

Parmar plays Zayan, a Muslim actor with a hefty track record of failed auditions behind him and only one major success to his name – a dancing, clucking, chicken in a fast food TV advert. His relationship with girlfriend Ella has collapsed, and his erstwhile partner’s new beau, Terence, has landed himself a plum part in a big-budget HBO miniseries.

Worse, Ella, is talking about restricting visiting rights with daughter Siena, flatmate Nick has kicked him out for not coughing up the rent, and mum and dad will not forgive him for failing to match up to the achievements of his medic brother and solicitor sister.

The narrative is set in a kind of fictional now in which the terrorists are Chinese, not brown. For a jobbing brown actor that is something of a disadvantage when the only three TV roles generally available for audition are doctors, lawyers, or terrorists. It is a blunt conceit perhaps, but one which makes a painfully authentic point.

Invisible’s targets include casually racist producers who cast minority actors in the kind of roles they think white audiences will respond to, casting agents who can never get Asian names right, and fellow actors who mistake brown performers for production employees.

The monologue is sometimes challenging to listen to, but Parmar’s writing has that assured deftness of comedic touch that never hectors or alienates while insisting we share his outrage. Heady, but enjoyable stuff. Roll on 007.

Sound Designer Bella Kear

Director Georgia Green

Writer and Performer Nikhil Parmar

Production Manager Ruth Burgon

Full Disclosure: I paid full box-office price for the ticket.