Review: Before I Go (Brixton House)

Review by Sam Waite

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Speaking, simply pouring out words, is not the same thing as genuine communication, making a real connection and expressing what you need from others. This distinction is at the centre of Before I Go, Tobi King Bakare’s one-man play exploring identity, family, friendships, and what could happen when we meet our maker – or, in this case, a messenger. Returning to Brixton House after a run as part of last year’s Housemates Festival, as well as stints in Peckham and at Camden People’s Theatre.

Ajani is throwing a barbeque; one he promises will be the event of the year. Young, already a half-bottle of Wray in, and newly aware that his ex may be tagging along, he is ready to play some tunes and throw some shapes. But, with an overworked mum and an older brother in prison, things are beginning to weigh on Ajani’s mind, not helped by the door-pounding and name-screaming of the dreaded ex-girlfriend at his door. Pouring some Wray onto the grill to really get things going, he forgets that it’s an electric barbeque, and quickly finds himself in a space between the West London borough of his childhood and what waits for him beyond. Only his words, and his learning how to truly communicate with those he cares for, will allow him to return to his life, and to his barbeque.

A recently-minted West End star, writer-performer Tobi King Bakare made a strong impression in this year’s Garrick Theatre run of For Black Boys, and his script proves that he is as adept at crafting a story as he is at playing one out. Ajani is a fully-formed character from the outset, engaging with the audience as they take their seats and keeping up a bouncy sense of humour even in the play’s deeper, more affecting moments. His dialogue, between Ajani and his unseen guide, known only as Messenger, feels natural and deeply authentic, like he is making it up as he goes along, and the plot beats are touching and exploratory, without leaning too far into saccharine sweetness or a woe-is-me sentiment.

An unfortunate snag comes in the introduction of Georgia Wilmot’s impressive, visually-arresting set design. Segments of the stage are pulled into the air, creating slanted windows over a cold and desolate space where Ajani is made to explore his choices and his shortcomings, where scattered items inform the life that’s so close to its end. Not helped by a technical issue on the show’s press night, the transition is too long for its disconnection from the material – Ajani doesn’t return to the stage until it’s over, and the two performers affixing the necessary attachments (also the show’s live musicians) must also get the drumkit into position, lengthening the process. With the visual impact so strong, it’s only a shame that this singular scene change momentarily halts the proceedings, essentially hitting pause until things are ready to proceed.

Bakare shares the role of Ajani with Christopher Mbaki, with the playwright performing himself for press night. His acting was layered, exciting, and ultimately very moving. He brought a great deal of unrestrained energy to Ajani, as well as slid vocals during a brief but impactful moment of song towards the play’s final moments, and made sure that no matter the story being told, no matter those who were hurt or the mistakes that were made, Anjani was easy to love. Director Philip J. Morris is also to be credited for this joyous persona and eminent likability, being smart enough to lean sharply into the humour and hopefulness present in every moment, even when reigning in Bakare for tender, delicate moments of discovery.

The onstage musicians, saxophonist Taurean Antoine-Chagar and drummer Nathan Griffith, play brilliantly and have brief but hysterical moments of interaction, where it is revealed that they exist within the purgatory space but do not interact beyond what is necessary. Alongside these moments of slightly-absurd comedy, the character of Messenger is also written dynamically and humanly, despite seemingly being something beyond human. Messenger goes through growth of his own, and we are presented with hints of what his existence has been like prior to meeting Ajani, and how different his time may be after their brief time together. With soft, believably heaven-sent lighting from Simisola Majekodunmi guiding our eyes around the detritus, and placing Ajani in sharp focus when he may want to hide his true feelings, this vision of purgatory offers a deep and successful examination of patriarchy, community, and of the challenges of modern man.

Moving, graceful, and utterly captivating – these describe both Bakare’s performance, and this production of his play. Where the pace was halted for uncomfortably long, the rest of the hour flies by and despite how complete and thorough the story was, I felt I could have spent much longer in the company of this bright, charming protagonist, and of his sarcastic, wise-cracking Messenger. Before I Go demonstrates master of that dreaded word, authenticity, and proves that Tobi King Bakare is both a star on the rise and a playwright worth watching, with finely tuned insights and the perfect words to communicate them.

Before I Go plays at Brixton House until July 27th

For tickets and information visit https://brixtonhouse.co.uk/shows/housemates-returns-before-i-go/

Photos by Ali Painter