Duck. Arcola Theatre.

Duck, playwright and producer maatin’s coming-of-age comedy-drama about the burgeoning cultural consciousness of a cricket-crazy British Indian adolescent, arrives with serendipitous timing. Just days ago, the deep-rooted institutional racism that plagues English cricket was exposed in a widely reported probe. Religious and racial bigotry is a theme foregrounded to some effect in this watchable, if faintly formulaic piece. Over at Lords England is currently battling Australia, a biennial fixture that, along with the run up to the terrorist attacks of 7/7, features heavily in this show’s backstory. For a one-person play about the world of cricket, now is about as good a time as any.

Fifteen-year-old public schoolboy Ismail (Omar Bynon), known as ‘Smiley’ to his friends, has visions of cricketing glory. He has won every possible sporting accolade in the lower school, a triumph that sees him rise to become the youngest-ever player in the First XI. But can he realise his dreams of breaking the school batting record and getting his name into the cricketer’s bible Wisden?

Arrayed against him are some formidable foes. His older teammates dress up casual racist microaggressions as banter. The team’s ambiguous new coach Mr Eagles tells him pointedly that “arrogance isn’t the same as ability” and appears determined to teach the boy a lesson he will not forget. His dad gifts him a cricket bat for his birthday, but it is an Indian brand not the English one he thinks he deserves. Worse, the teen’s febrile temper and sense of entitlement leads him to self-sabotage at every turn, putting at risk his relationship with best friend Finn. In the distance lies the looming tsunami of Islamophobia soon to be let loose by the events of 7/7. Can Ismail find the strength he needs to grow up, and what kind of person does he want to become?

Omar Bynon charts the teen’s loss of innocence and nascent sense of pride in family and heritage with flair, although the transitions between central character and the roles of father, coach and teammates sometimes lack focus. Offstage recordings in the form of cricket commentary provide narration and access into Ismail’s inner thoughts. They also bring some welcome pacing to a storyline that threatens to unfold at the speed of a lazy Sunday afternoon at the Oval. Maariyah Sharjil’s set design, white cricket screens onto which she projects a series of line drawings, animations, home movies and sporting footage, is tremendous.

Duck poses a valuable question – how can one reconcile an identity as both Asian and British? It is a theme well-explored in recent years: The superb The P Word from Waleed Akhtar, Ambreen Razia’s solid family drama Favour, and Nikhil Parmar’s excellent monologue Invisible all come to mind. What is different here is that it is hard to feel particularly sorry for a character so obviously privileged as Ismail. This is a boy at a great school, destined to go to a top university and end up with a professional career. Who knows? He might even end up as the UK’s first BME Prime Minster. Perhaps if this story was set in a council estate it might resonate a little more empathically.

Writer: maatin

Director: Imy Wyatt Corner