Khambay's Words, Words, Words

‘An Ideal Husband’ at the Lyric Hammersmith 2026: A sharp cast and bold aesthetic reimagine Oscar Wilde’s classic play of class, scandal and secrets

The Lyric Hammersmith’s latest production of ‘An Ideal Husband’ offers a reimagining of Oscar Wilde’s Victorian domestic drama. The show primarily focuses on Robert Chiltern, whose unassailable reputation is under threat from a past secret weaponised in the present by American socialite Mrs Cheveley. Wilde’s works, like Shakespeare’s, are often revisited because the themes that are discussed are deemed universal – in this instance, Wilde serves up a hefty dose of power, corruption and betrayal. Although Nicholai La Barrie directs a version that showcases some brilliant black talent with a bold new aesthetic, I could not help but feel that the promised twist never quite sprung.

Chike Okonkwo and Jamael Westman as Robert Chiltern and Lord Goring

What is undeniable, is that there is real talent on stage. Comedic timing across the board is sharp, and the cast do a brilliant job of finding the comedy and sarcasm in Wilde’s work. As well as Wilde’s words, the cast dig deeper to convey comedy through physicality, particularly Jamael Westman’s Lord Goring and Tiwa Lade’s Mabel Chiltern – both delivering their performances with a touch of camp and flair, almost reflective of today’s Gen Z. Tamara Lawrance also puts in a controlled, commanding turn as Lady Chiltern.

The overall aesthetic of the piece, particularly the costumes, also provide a freshness to Wilde’s work. Rajha Shakiry’s rails boast a wealth of colours, headwraps and bold prints, in reference to Black British culture. It is moments that explicitly reference Black British that provide some joy throughout the play, particularly the blasts of Afro Beats and Garage music. However, these moments are few and far between, at times leading to a bit of a disconnect between Wilde’s Victorian social mores and 21^st century modernisms.

Tiwa Lade and Tamara Lawrance as Mabel Chiltern and Lady Gertrude Chiltern

And although seeing a black cast star in a show typically focussing on the white middle class is refreshing – I am still unsure as to why this decision was made, as it is not explicitly referenced in the script. Does this adaptation tell me about what it is like to be a Black Briton today? Not particularly. It does feel like a missed opportunity. The plot of this adaptation also follows the original work pretty closely, so I am unsure what the aforementioned twist is, or was. For this reason the show does feel like it lacks some punch, and does not quite know who its audience is. It will satisfy the purists, the text and plot are broadly the same, but for those looking for that bold reimagining it might not be enough to cause a stir.

3/5

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Photography by Helen Murray

‘An Ideal Husband’ is playing at the Lyric Hammersmith until June 6^th!

Tickets here: https://lyric.co.uk/shows/an-ideal-husband/

‘Second Trimester’ at Battersea Arts Centre Review: A unique piece that deftly balances an affecting story with a bold, Bollywood aesthetic – with healing and heartwarming results

Last night I attended the press night of Krishna Istha’s ‘Second Trimester’ at the Battersea Arts Centre. The second in a planned trilogy, this show focuses on the relationship between Krishna Istha and their mother, Geetha Shankar, and stems from Geetha’s initial lack of understanding at Istha’s desire to get pregnant as a trans man. What follows is an intimate, truthful look at a parent and child relationship, that has plenty to say about gender, identity and generation divides – particularly within the South Asian community. What is unique about Istha’s work, is that, through the use of live cameras and green screens, it balances the deeply personal and affecting subject matter with Bollywood-inspired visuals. Director Milli Bhatia ensures that both aspects are equally honoured in this timely and poignant piece.

By using the fictional platform of ‘Notflix,’ Shankar’s story is divided into several chapters, which characterise major life moments and geographical movements. The use of projections, green screens and Bollywood-inspired aesthetics allow for some levity in amongst the deep subject matter, but also help to illustrate the more emotionally demanding aspects of Shankar’s life. This, plus the unscripted elements, make the piece feel especially immersive, and Shankar and Istha’s openness and vulnerability make it feel inviting – it’s almost like a shared experience, not your run of the mill show where you might expect to just ‘sit down and watch.’ The audience are engaged with by both performers from the off, and are welcomed into their world and their past, which is used to ask pertinent questions about the present.

For me personally, it speaks to a generation of South Asians who locked their past away to protect their children, and to that generation of children who are digging into their past to understand where, and why, they are today. This is something so universal, whether you are part of the South Asian community or not. In this way, the piece acts as a bridge between the two generations, and two different ways of thinking, established by Istha and Shankar’s clash about the former trying to get pregnant. In the process, Shankar is also given the chance to process her past and feel heard. Her lack of professional performance does not matter here – her authenticity and vulnerability are more than enough to win the audience’s undying support.

What is healing, is that by the end, that gap between the two generations seems to close. Istha and Shankar prove that, by opening up the conversation, and opening up the past in a safe and controlled way, progress can be made and we can reach an understanding that promises the hope of a more tolerant future.

Theatre that promotes openness, understanding and progress, especially in today’s world, is no bad thing.

4/5

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Photography by Ali Wright

‘Second Trimester’ is playing at the BAC until April 25^th!

Tickets here: https://bac.org.uk/whats-on/second-trimester/

‘Heart Wall’ at the Bush Theatre 2026: A relatable piece about how time changes family, friendships and grief

The Bush Theatre’s latest show, ‘Heart Wall,’ written by Kit Withington and directed by Katie Greenall has a lively start, as cast members invite the audience to belt out their favourite karaoke tunes. The opening inviting atmosphere takes some unexpected and surprising directions, delivering some thoughtful musings about how family, friends, relationships and grief changes over time. Although at times the dialogue could do with some shaving, as well as some sub plots, the cast performances and steady flow of revelations make for a relatable piece.

Much of the action takes place in local pub, ‘The Sun Inn,’ and Hazel Low’s set is detailed and familiar – I’m sure everyone in the audience has frequented that exact pub. As well as the pub, the show is anchored around Franky (Rowan Robinson) who returns home for the first time after a long absence. There is plenty of humour as characters highlight the north and south divide – something Franky feels keenly on this visit. This is something I found particularly relatable, as most people go away from home at some point, and find that when they return, they have changed, as well as the home that they left behind.

As a result, different characters remember the past differently, and it is these gaps that creates the many incidences of tension within the play, and several mini revelations that keep you intrigued and drive the play forward. All the characters feel complex and real, and the cast put in performances that are confident and engaging. The audience was very willing to go on the journey with them.

However, the dialogue could do with some trimming, and some plot threads don’t really go anywhere. Although the ending is poignant, the journey meanders at times, and for me, the plays initial focus on how worlds change over time had a stronger foundation than some of the later, smaller subplots. As a result, we never quite get to the bottom of things, until it’s too late, or see what Franky seems to be running from in London, which kind of undermines her persistence in wanting to stay before she realises anything is wrong at home.

That said, the casts performances, Low’s set and the use of karaoke make for an enjoyable evening.

3/5

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Photography by Harry Elletson

‘Heart Wall’ is playing at the Bush Theatre until May 16^th!

Tickets here: https://www.bushtheatre.co.uk/event/heart-wall/

‘Jaja’s African Hair Braiding’ at the Lyric Hammersmith 2026: A comedic and political exploration of the immigrant experience, brought to life by a standout ensemble cast

Jocelyn Bioh’s Tony Award-winning play ‘Jaja’s African Hair Braiding’ has hopped across the pond to the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre for its UK premiere, and I was lucky enough to attend last night as a guest. Set in a busy Harlem salon, the play takes place over the course of one day. It is rare to find a show that ticks so many boxes – I laughed out loud, applauded in agreement and was left shocked by an unexpected twist. The show is as comedic as it is political, and deftly handles humour with a timely dose of commentary about the immigrant experience.

Marie (Sewa Zamba) and Miriam (Jadesola Odunjo)

As mentioned, the play is anchored in the aforementioned salon, an intimate set designed by Paul Wills. Although I have not myself visited a braiding salon, the set looks familiar and lived in and includes photos of different styles plastered across the walls, which is universal to any hair-related establishment. What brings the shop to life is the dynamic women who inhabit it. Braiders Miriam (Jadesola Odunjo), Amanita (babirye bukilwa), Ndidi (Bola Akeju) and Bea (Dolapo Oni), and owner Jaja and daughter Marie (Zainab Jah and Sewa Zamba respectively). It is hard to pick a standout performance here – all characters get their moment. Whether it’s Bea ranting about Jaja, Miriam talking about her lost love, or Amanita dealing with a troublesome customer – all women get a chance to shine. All characters have a shared heritage and culture, but all of the actors ensure that their characters are uniquely vibrant and individual. Nobody fades away into the background. I feel sometimes that can be a danger with fly on the wall shows – they can drift too far into naturalism, losing a bit of theatrical flair. Not here – the actors, and Bioh’s writing, ensure enough is happening in the shop to keep you engaged and invested.

This early investment is important, especially considering the plays political themes. Whilst always there, simmering away, they come more to the fore with the appearance of Jaja, whose conversation frankly states that there are different rules for them as women, especially women of colour, compared to their Caucasian counterparts. It feels incredibly true, and what is so clever about it is that there is no risk of alienating the audience with this discourse, as Bioh has, as she explained in the following Q and A, showed us the ‘people behind the policies’ – the people who are trying to live honestly, and contribute to society, but are constrained by intolerant policies.

The cast of ‘Jaja’s African Hair Braiding’

Seeing these women, who have laughed and bickered with each other, band together to show solidarity and strength at the end of the play is incredibly powerful and is an ode to all of the women of colour who have made sacrifices for their children. It also allows the actors to showcase their range, as the play unexpectedly veers from comedy to impending tragedy. It is brilliant to see such a show on stage, with a packed audience, and Bioh was right in noting that, when it comes to the diversity debate, theatre feels ahead of television.

I will say, as a South Asian man born in the UK, some references probably did go over my head, but the play also left me with a better understanding of braiding, and the work that goes into it… especially micros. The show is not condescending, or preachy, it is welcoming, and it is through the characters that we can learn and appreciate their experiences, and as Bioh intended, see the ‘people behind the policies.’

5/5

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Photography by Manuel Harlan

‘Jaja’s African Hair Braiding’ is playing at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre until the 25^th of April

Tickets here: https://lyric.co.uk/shows/jajas-african-hair-braiding/?gad_source=1&gad_campaignid=23502681555&gbraid=0AAAAADjn8lPnAW0sejYHIg2NBw7nwW6wG&gclid=Cj0KCQjw1ZjOBhCmARIsADDuFTANnY4C9_2cDCbKLROF_xAv2m5kEXwpCk4_4y924HYaiuJmJxx4SBIaAnlIEALw_wcB

‘Sweetmeats’ at the Bush Theatre Review 2026: A heartwarming and tender tale about two South Asian elders rediscovering connection and companionship

‘Sweetmeats,’ the Bush Theatre and Tara Theatre’s latest offering, had it’s press night last night, and I was lucky enough to be in attendance. The show, written by Karim Khan and directed by Natasha Kathi-Chandra, follows Hema (Shobu Kapoor) and Liaquat (Rehan Sheikh) – two South Asian elders who bump into each other at a diabetes course. Initially bonding over their love, and loss of sugar, the play follows them both as they discover a connection with each other that they thought they would not have again. It is a heartwarming and tender tale of a demographic that is not often seen on stage, and there is plenty of levity peppered throughout the piece. Although at times some of the deeper themes are brushed over quite lightly, leading to missed opportunities, and the two hander can at times feel like it needs some tightening, Kapoor and Sheikh bring to life two authentic and believable characters.

Shobu Kapoor as Hema and Rehan Sheikh as Liaquat

The piece leans very heavily into naturalistic one, as signposted by Aldo Vásquez set. It is very much one of two halves, each side showing Hema’s and Liaquat’s living rooms, but also leaving space for their diabetes course and also the bus stop… a garden also manages to sneak in. It does place you in the characters’ world, and when you see them so close, but yet so separate, it does heighten the loneliness and isolation of their situation. Essentially it is a story about elder South Asians, a demographic that is often forgotten about – so it should be praised that the show gives them space, and I think, brings those people to life in a meaningful way. I can see Hema and Liaquat in people in my everyday life, and the cultural flourishes, specifically the productions’ use of language and music adds to the authenticity of their portrayals. There is a lot to get through, and Kapoor and Reihan handle it well, and are both extremely likeable.

The play does move with broad strokes though, and some ideas could have been interrogated more closely. The India and Pakistan relationship is highlighted, but that shared history and trauma never deeply explored, and whilst the two meet due to their relationship with sugar, their love and loss of it never feels fully mined in to, leaving me wondering whether the title of the play needs some tweaking. Perhaps it needs a bit more theatrical, or Bollywood-esque, flourish to heighten these burgeoning feelings – something that at times Simeon Miller’s lighting highlights in relation to Liaquat’s health.

I understand that the show is a naturalistic, slow burn, and to an extent, this works for the characters – they are not the type that we would expect to have an Emerald Fennel ‘Wuthering Heights’ love affair, but, I do think the narrative could do with some shaving, especially in the first half. It comes to a sweet enough conclusion though, where we also get a touch more explicit discussion about loss, especially from Liaquat, which feels earned. It was clear from the audience’s reaction that people were more than willing to go on this journey, and ultimately it is a well performed, inviting and touching piece of theatre.

3.5/5

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Photography by Craig Fuller

‘Sweetmeats’ is playing at the Bush Theatre until the 21^st of March!

Tickets here: https://www.bushtheatre.co.uk/event/sweetmeats/#book

‘The Undying’ at Soho Theatre Review 2026: A twisty South Asian tale that poses some big questions in its examination of gender, age and trauma

What would you do if you could do it all again? This is the question Rea Dennhardt Patel’s play, ‘The Undying,’ poses. When Amba (Vaishnavi Survaprakash) brings home some TwiceLife pills to her husband Prav (Akaash Dev Shemar) the two become embroiled in a twisty tale that examines gender, age and trauma all through the South Asian lens. Despite the heaviness, there is plenty of levity, more so at the start of the play, which does help to endear the characters to the audience, willing you to go on this journey with them. The play is multi-hyphenated – it tackles many themes, and also could slot into a multitude of genres. Although this does mean that sometimes the play feels overstuffed, there is plenty in there to praise.

What struck me first is Sammy Dowson’s set. Although the space is small, the furnishings, particular the chair and the rug, are instantly recognisable – they are the quintessential Asian home. This is buoyed by the music of Ansuman Biswas – something which elevates the show, bringing extra drama and intensity to some of the shows biggest moments. Behind is a wall of photo frames, each referencing important parts of Amba and Prav’s life.

Amba and Prav’s age is well communicated in the physicality of the actors, and their discussions reveal that Amba is recovering from chemo, and Prav is suffering from Alzeimers. This is the impetus for Amba to bring TwiceLife home, and immediately paints a backdrop of missed opportunity. The two characters are an ode to older generations who undertook life changing journeys, and who sacrificed things for their future children. I feel like the audience, particularly those of South Asian descent, know these people. Even though the play speaks to many different themes – bildungsroman, sci fi, comedy, I did always think that it felt real. The events feel true to these two characters, a tribute to Dennhardt Patel’s writing and the performances of Survaprakash and Shemar. As you may have guessed, Amba takes a pill, finding herself instantly younger, and ready to take on the new world.

Akaash Dev Premar as Prav and Vaishnavi Survaprakash as Amba

Amba’s newfound lease of life, and learning of the freedoms that women now have speaks to wider ideas of gender politics and the role of women in Indian culture. Survaprakash is given a lot to do, and handles it with real depth – especially when the couple recount the death of their young daughter. Themes of feminism and gender peak early on, but run throughout the play. It is at this point that Prav follows suit and takes a pill.

Whilst Amba enjoys the challenges in her newfound youth, Prav’s story draws inspiration from masculinity and male fragility. He struggles to find independence and his place in the world, without Amba. Although it could be argued that Prav is exhibiting sexist behaviour, Dennhardt Patel is sympathetic, and tries to explain the root cause of his dependency by delving into his childhood trauma. The ending is an ironic one, as both Prav and Amba’s lives take them in different directions, but in many ways they end up in similar places that they were in at the beginning… which I guess speaks to the cyclical nature of birth, life and death.

There are a lot of ideas within this play. I have been ruminating on it for most of the day. Part of me thinks it could benefit from a slightly longer run time as there’s plenty to unpack. Sometimes it can feel like three plays in one. The middle of the play is pacey, and does encompass all the messiness, love and meaning of marriage. The start and denouement do feel slower, and perhaps some of this time should have been given to the middle section, allowing certain plot points to have more breathing time. In the sparring between Amba and Prav, I did miss the important note that as your body-age halves, you lose the memories associated with those years.

Something I will question though, is why both characters, as they get younger, lose their Indian accents. Perhaps it would’ve made more sense to show then with British accents in their old age, and as they get younger, they get closer to the Indian accents that they were born with? Something to think about, but not a dealbreaker.

‘The Undying’ is a twisty multi-genre show that poses some interesting questions -all bolstered by a talented team and cast.

4/5

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Photography by Tobi Ejrele

‘Maggots’ at the Bush Theatre Review 2026: An impressive cast vividly bring to life a thought-provoking piece that is as witty as it is tragic

I was back at the Bush Theatre this week to see their latest show, ‘Maggots.’ Written by Farah Najib, this three hander recounts the story of the residents of Laurel House, and their discovery of Shirley, whose rotting body went undiscovered for a year, breeding a foul stench and a host of maggots. Actors Marcia Lecky, Sam Baker Jones and Safiyya Ingar, rise to the task of uniquely bring to life the multiple residents of Laurel House. The play is witty, tragic and hopeful, and paints a vivid portrait of a group of people who are unsure what to do in these mysterious circumstances, all against the backdrop of a failing system.

The set does well to communicate one of the core themes of the piece – decay. Caitlin Mawhinney hangs dried, dead flowers from the ceiling of the studio which seem to represent the ever presence of decay and death for the audience, just as the smell does for the inhabitants of Laurel House. Peter Small’s lighting is also effectively used to communicate shifts in space and tone, a notable moment being the casts’ description of the housing associations WhatsApp group chat. The lighting also mirrors the increasing tension in the run up to the discovery of Shirley’s body towards the end of the play. Although this revelation is not a massive surprise, early on in the play several residents wonder if Shirley might have died, the journey there is an enjoyable one.

Despite the heavy themes, there is plenty of room for levity, with Ingar in particular drawing laughs with her witty one liners. The cast exhibit an impressive range, fully inhabiting each resident and giving them a distinct voice, the foundations being laid deftly by Najib’s writing. We do not quite get the traditional happy ending for the residents that we would want, but Najib offers a truthful one. Things do change for the better, but are not perfect, something that acutely reflects real life. Examining this microcosm of a fairly unordinary area of London provides the perfect space for talking about wider issues of housing, neglect and human connectedness. This show does feel unique, and markedly different to other shows that I have reviewed.

Although the closing revelations are not quite the shocking punch that you might have wished for, the talented cast, wit and thought-provoking themes definitely leave a better impression than the unpleasant smell that haunts Laurel House’s residents.

4/5

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‘Maggots’ is playing at the Bush Theatre until the 28^th of December!

Tickets here: https://www.bushtheatre.co.uk/event/maggots/#book

Christmas Trees: A Brief History

As soon as November hits, I’m sure that everybody begins seeing Christmas trees popping up all over the place! And then, before we know it, we are taking them all down again come January! Christmas trees are typically evergreen conifer, spruce or pine and are typically decorated with baubles, lights and tinsel. But where did this festive staple come from?

Before we get to the modern Christmas trees that we all know and love, lets cast our minds back a few hundred centuries. It was Pagan tradition to worship trees, a common practice for the Vikings and Saxons. They would decorate the house with evergreen at New Year to ward off evil spirits.

Jumping forward, Christmas trees popped up in the Medieval era. In Biblical terms, the tree that springs to mind is the Tree of Knowledge from Genesis, which is closely connected to Adam and Eve. Eve was tricked by Satan to eat from the Tree of Knowledge which constituted the Fall of Man, bringing sin into the world. However, the Tree of Knowledge was not the only tree around, there was the Tree of Life. This tree is representative of personal growth and interconnectedness.

It was this tree that was referenced in the Medieval Plays historically staged on Christmas Eve, the name day of Adam and Eve. In these plays, the tree was decorated with apples, a reference to the Forbidden Fruit, and white wafers, a reference to the Eucharist. The tree then found its way into people’s homes, like the Nativity scene, with the apples being replaced by baubles.

Modern Christmas trees can be traced back to Central Europe, including Estonia and Latvia. It seems that we have the Protestant Reformers to thank for the evolution of the Christmas tree, as records indicate that a Christmas tree was present in the Cathedral of Strasbourg in 1539. Protestant Reformer Martin Luther is credited as the first person to have had added lights to an evergreen tree, and this early Renaissance time period matches the first dated illustration of a Christmas tree in 1576.

Fast forwarding to the Victorian era, the idea of decorating homes and churches WITH evergreens was common practice, the idea of decorating an individual, small tree did not really come to fruition until 1800, where Queen Charlotte introduced a decorated Christmas tree at a party for her children. Most people associate the decorated Christmas trees with Queen Victoria and her husband Prince Albert. Before their marriage in 1841, Christmas trees were more of a royal family tradition, but following various advertisements in magazines, they were adopted by wealthier middle-class families and the tradition widely spread. Coupled with Charles Dickens, the Victorians are typically credited with creating the Christmas that we know today.

I hope you all had a good Christmas, and a Happy New Year 2026!

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‘Frankenstein’ 2025: An Analysis

Mary Shelley’s ‘Frankenstein’ is probably one of the most famous British novels – if not THE most famous in Gothic circles. Personally, I’ve always been more team ‘Dracula,’ so I was very interested to see what Guillermo Del Toro’s take had in store for the iconic story. Safe to say, the film has received rave reviews, cementing Del Toro’s position as a connoisseur of all things Gothic. Broadly, I enjoyed the film – I believe it capitalised on the best aspects of the novel whilst also providing the audience with some impeccable and innovative symbolism. Let’s take a look!

So, although there are some character changes to the plot, the film broadly follows the structure of the novel and opens with Victor, Oscar Isaac, and the Creature’s cat and mouse chase in the North Pole. Before we see the face of the Creature, played by Jacob Elordi, we see his tall shadow, and hear his bellow. We also see him behave violently towards the Royal Danish Navy in his quest for Victor, which dehumanises him from the off, initially scaring the audience. Del Toro knows though, that when recounting the Creature’s story, that monstrous image will dissipate in favour of audience sympathy and understanding.

Victor’s backstory is slightly altered from the original text, instead of being Swiss, he is French. Del Toro plays on the classic Gothic trope of the aristocratic dying family, and presents Victor as having a strong attachment to his mother, played by Mia Goth, who also plays his sister in law to be, Elizabeth. In the original text, it is Victor who is set to marry Elizabeth… but more on her later.

Young Victor always wears white, a symbol of purity and childhood innocence, in contrast to his mother, who always wears red. In this context the colour red it may not represent promiscuity, there is no implication of sexual impropriety, but this colouring may indicate her passion for Victor, and his for her. The fact that she is also played by Goth foreshadows Victor’s later romantic attraction to Elizabeth, and if we play that backwards, Del Toro could be implying that Victor had an Oedipal-esque attraction to his own mother.

Victor’s father however demonstrates early to him the correlation between the body and violence. Whilst tutoring him in anatomy, Victor’s father canes him if he makes a mistake. Victor is also raised with a keen understanding of labour and birth, beginning his obsession with the creation of life. This is further exacerbated by the death of his mother, who dies during childbirth. As well as leaving an emotional mark, Victor’s mother cups his face with her bloody hands as a way of saying goodbye to him. At her funeral, Victor recounts that he considered his mother to be a ‘part of my very self’ and that part of his life has now been ‘extinguished.’ This has a very ‘Wuthering Heights’ feel to it – Victor opines that his mother was one half of him, and with her death, a fire within him as died. It is in his adult life that he seeks to reignite that fire by attempting to create life to better understand her death. Del Toro implies that Victor’s desire to create life in reality is his quest to resurrect his mother.

We can see through his costume that Victor always carries his mother with him, as, in adulthood, he is shown to be sporting a red necktie, her trademark colour. The presence of the red around his neck suggests his unbreakable tie to his mother, and that he is shackled by his vow to ‘conquer’ death in her name. The colour of red recurs throughout the film, most notably in the electrical currents Victor uses to animate individual limbs and the Creature itself. Again, this is a connection to his mother, almost as if she is present when he is trying to complete his experiments.

Victor’s mother is established as the reason that he exists, not just biologically, but as the object of his mission to create life. Red, therefore, becomes the colour throughout the film that communicates the force of life, as previously mentioned in the form of the electrical current.

Victor, throughout his lfie, has dreams and visions of a luring red angel, perhaps one of life, or one of death – ‘forces’ that Victor vows to have ‘command’ over. At this moment we are jolted back to the present day with a shot of the Creature bursting out of the ice, implying a rebirth and resurrection, and that Victor did ultimately succeed in this goal.

Going back in time, we are introduced to Elizabeth. When Victor first spots Elizabeth’s umbrella in the crowd, he is drawn to her, as he was drawn to his Mother, and even tries to simulate a form of non physical intimacy with Elizabeth by posing as a priest at her confession. Much like Victor, she is drawn to and connected to nature, something that is also communicated in her clothing.

Elizabeth’s costumes have drawn much attention on social media and with good reason. She has a feathered headdress, and the prints of her dress have been inspired by natural patterns and colourings. In terms of colour, when we say lay people on screen, they wear darker tones, but higher classes, particularly women, wear brighter colours – which help to communicate subtext and move the story forward. She is also seen wearing a red crucifix, the colour of red again hinting towards Victor’s mother, affirming that he is drawn to both women. When Victor confesses his love to Elizabeth, she is shown to be wearing a red dress, and in a shot where the camera is placed behind her, we get a glimpse of her intricate laced corset which could be seen to resemble a human spine – again emphasising her connection and affinity to nature.

Elizabeth and Victor’s responses to the Creature are ironically similar and different at the same time. When animating the Creature Victor’s hoists him up to resemble a crucified Jesus, as well as Da Vinci’s anatomical drawings. Victor and the Creature’s first encounter takes place in his bedroom, whilst both are in a state of undress. The drapes of Victor’s bed are red, and whilst being bathed in sunlight, they embrace and Victor removes the Creature’s bandages. The intimacy does border on homoeroticism, but also links to the idea of mother and child. The Creature’s bandages could be a direct reference to the bandages found outside Jesus’ tomb following his resurrection.

Elizabeth chooses to visit the Creature at night, and we see her in her nightgown, hair open and holding a candle as she walks through the dimly lit hallways. This gothic image is reminiscent of proto-Gothic figure of Lady Macbeth, and Elizabeth’s candle implies that it is her light that will overcome the darkness that hangs over Victor and the Creature. Her long, red hair resembles the paintings of the pre-Raphaelite era, the vivid colour of which contrasts with the muted tones and paleness of the Creature. In the Elizabeth era, long, untied hair was a mark of madness and sexual discordancy, which here may perhaps reference Elizabeth’s confused feelings towards Victor and the Creature. She exhibits a maternal instinct and is more empathetic towards the Creature than Victor, implying that she is a Madonna-like figure to the Creature, who himself has been hinted to resemble Jesus. The Creature is the embodiment of the natural world, something which we have already established that Elizabeth is fascinated by.

Victor then attempts to burn the tower with the Creature locked inside, invoking the image of Prometheus, something Mary Shelley referenced in the original text, which she subtitled as ‘The Modern Prometheus.’ Prometheus was the Titan who created humanity, and in defiance, stole fire from the Gods. Zeus punished him by chaining him to a rock, where an eagle would eat his liver daily. His pain only ended when Heracles killed said eagle. The image of the chained Creature surrounded by fire evokes this story, and also that of the red angel in Victor’s dreams. The Creature is both, an image of life and of death, and of such power that he could rival the Gods.

It is here that we end Victor’s tale, and, like the novel, focus the attention on the Creature. The Creature is expelled from the tower, via a schute into the surrounding the moat, which is almost more reminiscent of the type of birth that Victor studied, and more reminiscent of the type of natural birth that the Creature was denied. The Creature’s expulsion from the tower acts as a rebirth.

The Creature assists a small family in the forest from afar, and becomes known to them as the ‘Spirit of the Forest.’ The creature, after being reborn, fashions his own story and mythology as an ‘invisible guardian.’ However, he is mistaken for a Monster, and after being shot at by some locals, he retreats back to Victor begging for a mate.

This also happens to be the day of Elizabeth’s wedding to William. The chains across her bodice add a militaristic feel to the dress, and the tassels reference the bandages that the Creature was born in. When Elizabeth tries to defend the Creature, Victor accidentally shoots her, a departure from the novel, and in anguish, the Creature carries her out, again, evoking that Madonna and child image between the two, but this time in reverse. The Creature now displays a maternal instinct towards Elizabeth, not the other way around. The blood stains her white wedding dress, again a reference to the clothes of Victor’s mother in a moment that inverts the use of the colour red – it had been used to communicate life, now it is used to communicate death. The Creature retreats to a cave, lying Elizabeth down on a slab, almost like a sacrificial lamb. She has been caught in the crossfire of the Creature and Victor and dies as a result of their struggle.

It all boils down to the Creature and Victor. During their chase, Victor attempts to set the Creature alight using dynamite, but the flames have no affect on him. This implies that the Creature has a Godlike control over fire, much like his namesake Prometheus. In the present, and in his dying moments, Victor tells the Creature that he is ‘consumed’ by regret, and encourages the Creature to go forward, and live a full life. In their last exchange, they refer to each other as ‘father’ and ‘son’ and accept each others faults. In this moment, Victor realises the responsibility that he has to his offspring. With this closure for the Creature, the ending of the film is markedly different and more hopeful than the novel. The Creature, quite literally, walks away into the sunset, unlike in the novel where he throws himself on Victor’s funeral pyre.

All in all, I think this adaptation did what all great adaptations should do – stick to the core themes and ideas of the novel, and add some fresh elements. Whilst the ending is probably the biggest departure from the novel, I think it feels earned and something filled with such hope nowadays probably is not a bad thing.

Thanks for reading!

‘Christmas Karma’ 2025: An Analysis

Gurinder Chadha’s latest film ‘Christmas Karma’ hit cinemas on November 14^th, and, as you may have guessed, it is a rendition of Dickens’ Christmas classic with a Desi twist. We follow the journey of Mr Sood (Kunal Nayyar), an arrogant and right wing politician who, as in the original tale, is visited by three ghosts to prompt a much-needed journey of self-discovery. Probably best known for 2002’s ‘Bend It Like Beckham’ Chadha has spoken openly about the challenges that South Asians face within the creative space. Her latest offering comes at a time of instability – Reform are on the rise, as are incidents of racially motivated violence. Although the film has been slated by several critics, more on that later, personally I commend the film for shining the spotlight on an experience that we rarely see on screen. By digging deep into Sood’s backstory, the film encourages the audience to be kind and make peace with the past in order to heal in the present.

Everyone is invited to enjoy this film. As the camera sweeps over a diverse London town, people from all walks of life appear on screen. Take the three ghosts for example, Eva Longoria, Billy Porter and Boy George – all come from different cultural backgrounds, all of which are celebrated. Just the fact that we are seeing such a wide range of people on screen is something to be celebrated. Sometimes we do not need to tell the audience how important it is to have diverse people on screen, we can just show them these diverse people. Exposing the audience to these people and characters normalises diversity and inclusion, and reflects the world that we live in.

Mr Sood is as grumpy as you would expect, and local shopkeeper Parduman (Nitin Ganatra) asserts that Sood has forgotten his ‘roots.’ Parduman’s observation follows Sood’s tirade about the incoming wave of migrants and asylum seekers to the UK. It is implied that, because Sood has forgotten his ‘roots,’ he lacks sympathy for the asylum seekers. His attitude towards them is almost colonial and could even be described as xenophobic. The audience expects Sood to be as sympathetic as Parduman is, as Sood came to this country as an immigrant. Parduman calls out this irony.

Sood’s reaction speaks to the division between Indians who have settled, or been born, in Britain, and those who have more recently come over from India. The macro version of this divide is the wider contention between Britain and India, and the state of being ‘Indian’ or ‘British.’

How British is anyone? I was born in this country so am therefore classed as British, but if you walked past me on the street, you could assume I was from India based on the colour of my skin. I am British and Indian, and I have to reconcile and respect both aspects of my background, whilst acknowledging the fact that I am not British enough for some Britons, or Indian enough for some Indians.

It seems that Sood leans more on the British side in his thought, Chadha herself described him as a ‘Tory.’ This is ironic, as the colouring of his skin, and accent, probably make him more Indian presenting than British born Indians like myself, and his own nephew, who views him as an old-fashioned uncle.

To be honest, it’s those that have not had these experiences, maybe some members of Reform, who should watch this film. Going back to Sood’s past, some people might have assumed that we would be shown flashbacks of Partition, the splitting of India into India and Pakistan in 1947, as many of our ancestors’ stories are tied to it. This colonial angle would speak to the conflict between India and Britain, as well as the nuanced conflict between India and Pakistan. Although impactful, Chadha goes for something unexpected, choosing to focus on the expulsion of Indians from Uganda in 1972, something I confess that I did not know about.

This choice is a smart one, as it does not tell the oft told story of colour versus white, but a more nuanced story of colour versus colour. The film says that everybody can treat everybody badly, and in turn, everybody can also welcome and be loving to everybody. Sood’s despair about having to leave Uganda is not necessarily racially motivated – it is motivated by the loss of his home. Surely, this is a universal feeling that everybody can relate to.

The experience of losing everything and coming to a different country for refuge, does explain Sood’s obsession with money and status. He longs to feel secure again. The irony is, is that his ambition loses his love, Bea (Charitha Chandran). We all know someone like Sood, he speaks to a generation of people who lost things, or had to sacrifice things, so that they could make a living for their family and secure their future. The film acknowledges that his deep hurt from having to leave Uganda, from losing Bea, and the racism that he endured in this country all contribute to his unhappiness. There are many layers to his story, and to his character, all of which allow for a unique take on the stock Scrooge character.

This is where the nuance is. The film is not as simple as ‘if you keep being mean you will die alone.’ The three ghosts recognise Sood’s deep seated trauma and pain, telling him that once he lets it go, and heals, his burden will be lifted. They almost give him permission, something Sood has never received. In short, the Ghosts believe that breaking the cycle of generational trauma will lead to freedom. Boy George sings:

‘What good is history unspoken?
What good is a lesson unused?’

Sood understands what racial hatred can do, and Billy Porter’s Ghost of Christmas Present notes that if we can see what hatred can do, then we can see the value of love and compassion. We cannot go forward without acknowledging and trying to learn from the past. With that acknowledgement and understanding comes healing.

Sood does go forward, and becomes happier, healing from the past but also seeking to reclaim it. He changes his memories, and an example of this is the inclusion of the diamond-infused Mathia. He recalls as a child being told by an auntie that hiding diamonds in the Mathia was a good way to keep them safe. At the time, he had just arrived in the UK, and his father had just passed. In this instance, the diamond encrusted Mathia are associated with loss, and his lack of wealth.

Towards the end of the film, Sood gifts his housekeeper Mrs Joshi (Shobu Kapoor) a tin of diamond encrusted Mathia. He has turned this memory, associated with loss, into one of generosity and giving. It is a good example of how one can reclaim their past, and how Sood has learned to heal, channelling his pain into something positive.

Sood’s transformation, from miser to merriment, is also reflected in his clothing. Whilst he wears darker tones throughout the film, when he travels back to Uganda to reunite with his childhood friend, he wears an orange, open waistcoat. His open waistcoat implies that he has let go of his past trauma, he can breathe, the orange referring to his newfound warmth and growth. Sood is a classic example of good representation, his experiences, as a person of colour, inform his life decisions. It is not forced, his character has developed organically and in reaction to the hardship that he has faced, something that many first-generation immigrants will understand.

I do find the fact that the film has been slated so savagely by some publications a little ridiculous. If a positive message about love, diversity and inclusion cannot elicit at least one star, I’m looking at you Mr Telegraph, then we truly are in dire straits. One particular review fixated on the fact that Bob Crachit would not be able to afford a house in Notting Hill. And while yes, this a valid point, this isn’t ‘Homes under the Hammer.’ I think that the films’ social and political commentary, as well as it’s obvious uniqueness, should be at the forefront of the discussion. If it is not, then the whole point of the film I fear has been missed. But hey, even though Chadha has welcomed everyone into the cinema, maybe it is only those who look like her, myself and Sood who truly understand and appreciate what she has done.

Gurinder, if you are reading, you may remember that we met at ‘Surinderella’ at Riverside, it’s Harps with the feedback forms and glittery table! If you need a Production Secretary on any of your upcoming projects, please do give me a call!

Thanks for reading!