This must be leftfield new writing’s sunny summer start. Like Alistair McDowall’s All of It, Tom Fowler’s Hope Has a Happy Meal features striking performances in a story where recognisably painful human emotions — loss of family members — are set in a dystopian vision of the world’s future. In the Upstairs studio space, we arrive in the People’s Republic of Koka Kola, formerly the UK, a hilariously lurid police state where freedoms are acutely curtailed and consumer capitalism is totally dominant. But it’s a dystopia which is drenched with, instead of the usual greyness of Orwellian nightmares, a richly colourful bonanza of bright hues and jolly shopping. Very apt, but what’s the story? The overall effect is an exciting contribution to contemporary playwriting –it’s art that seems to make your mind go woo-woo. Middle-aged Hope has returned to the ‘People’s Republic of Koka Kola’ to look for the son she abandoned twenty-four years ago. In the process she finds not only old family but new friends, and acts of kindness and solidarity along the way. However, there is an underlying unease in this hyper-capitalist world, and a lurking menace that threatens the lives of all of Hope’s companions. Despite the strong writing, the one thing I can’t quite understand is the link to capitalism. The asides to the future capitalistic world (e.g. Facebook Forest, Koka Kola Airlines, and Disney Quarry), are funny, but that’s just about it. I wish there were more ‘rules’ about this government and world to establish the setting more. It is very intriguing and has so much potential. I wish it would link itself more to the main storyline. Credit: Helen Murray

I would say the play is firmly rooted in now and the politics of the last five years, but by it being set in the People’s Republic of Koka Kola (rather than Britain) there’s a detachment that hopefully makes it feel a little more universal. Tom Fowler has cooked up a s atiric al allegoric al quest of a pl ay, where a collection of r ag-t ag ch ar acters struggle to survive in the People’s Republic of Kok a Kol a (the PRKK) a post-democr atic country now in the full throes of hyper-c apit al ism and run by corpor ate gi ants (the he ad of the country is a CEO). But the piece also loses its w ay just as the m ain ch ar acter, Hope, st arts to find hers. The process of writing this play has been hard and long, partly because this is my first big, full-length play but also because in 2016, when I first conceived of the play, I was still early in my politicization. So writing this play has been the process of developing the story and the characters but also the process of me educating myself and, ultimately, becoming more confidently socialist.Hope has a Happy Meal is a surreal quest story that follows the enigmatic character, Hope, on a frenetic return journey to the hyper-capitalist country she once escaped. In her pursuit, she embarks on a playful exploration of privatisation and capitalism versus community, all while seeking something she left behind.

Aside from the underdone setting, Hope has a Happy Meal manages to be both funny and exciting, with well-written and enjoyably performed characters and confident, clear direction. It succeeds at being a very engaging play, even if it doesn’t achieve everything it wants to. Over the last five years I feel like people on the left across the country have felt the experience of having hope and then losing it, and I wanted the play to reflect that. So ‘hope’ is shown to be beautiful and powerful but unreliable. It can lift you up but then tear you down just as easily. Tom Fowler’s gently amusing play has all the ingredients of a fast-moving road movie, satirically flavoured by a context of rampant capitalism. Hope has a Happy Meal runs from 3 June until 8 July in the Jerwood Theatre Upstairs, Royal Court Theatre London.We could have done with more time touching upon the reasons Ali wanted his life to end when Hope and Isla come across him, and at least one moment where the dreaded c-word is blamed for something, but it seems Fowler and Morrison wanted that to be implied, rather than asserted. Hope Has A Happy Meal fails at both, with not much to take away. I really like the way that Fowler parodies the banal pronouncements of those in power, and his evident sympathy for the marginalized and the needy. There is also something very allusive in his writing: the mention of Strawberry Fields commune brings to mind the Beatles song “Eleanor Rigby” when, some time later, it becomes evident that we are dealing with a situation that could be described as “all the lonely people, where do they all come from?” I also like the psychological insights, expressed perhaps most directly in the clown game show sequence, and the drunken episode when Hope and Lor get plastered. Yet anger and violence step on the toes of all the humour. Despite all the jokes, notions of loss and death give the piece its much needed shadows. But in the People’s Republic of Koka Kola – a world of dwindling resources, corruption and corporate giants – what happens to Hope? Heading to the BP Nature Reserve where Hope believes her sister is living, they are helped to evade the authorities en route by a passenger on the Koka Kola Railway and a lorry driver who likes American country music.