But in the People’s Republic of Koka Kola – a world of dwindling resources, corruption and corporate giants – what happens to Hope? 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? A sort of road trip to the ‘BP Nature Reserve’ (ironic, get it?) ensues as Hope and her comrades search for her estranged sister. Of course, they are hotly pursued by all manner of ominous corporate goons – of whom sinister policeman Wayne C (couldn’t possibly be a coincidence?) is amongst them, motivated by his desire to snatch his son from the infant’s loving aunt. Happily, Hope and Isla interrupt a suicide attempt by distraught forest ranger Alex (Nima Taleghani) and, miraculously recovered from self-immolating depression, he now decides to join the travellers – except here comes evil Wayne. Thankfully the newly undepressed Alex shows just what a hero and a dab hand at combat he is, melting Isla’s heart with his interventions (in the tropiest ‘damsel-in-distress’ way) such that they capture Wayne and continue their journey to Lor’s abode. Although the commune is no longer there – a dystopian sell-out to corporate interests is mentioned but never exploed – the foursome, plus the baby, come together in a sort of domestic idyll – united in the simple pleasures of a cooking rota and as captors of the murderous Wayne.

Naomi Dawson’s set design deserves special mention, as the neon-lit, multi-levelled structure effectively transports the audience through various locations within the dystopian world. From flats to train toilets, each scene is seamlessly transitioned, contributing to the overall flow of the play. 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 The play follows the return of Hope after a nearly 30-year absence, as she navigates a corporation-run police state while attempting to reconnect with her family. Tom Fowler’s writing showcases a keen comedic sensibility, and the cast delivers it with aplomb, setting a winning tone from the very beginning. 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.Where Hope Has A Happy Meal does falter, is in the elements of satire and allegory. Hope’s character is too detailed to be an allegorical version of the concept and the other characters do not seem to represent anything outside of themselves. This is in part because the writing and performances of those characters aren’t flat enough for allegory but also because The People’s Republic of Koka Kola never really comes to life. It can be quite easy for many servers to overlook the “fun” trait in their service. This informal phrase changes that.

When a server is there to do a job, it’s difficult for them to separate “work” from “fun.” Therefore, they might struggle to give optimal customer service if they repeat phrases like “enjoy your meal.” It works well because people don’t always expect their servers to be the most entertaining or enthusiastic. If you can show them that you care enough about them and your job to be lively and fun, you might just win them over.In these cases, we can offer our services at a later time by saying, “let me know if there’s anything else you need.” It’s still an incredibly polite way to say that you’re happy to help, and it’s also a closing statement that allows the diners to understand that it’s time for them to eat. The resultant escapade feels part Thelma and Louise, part reverse-Wizard of Oz, and Lucy Morrison’s direction neatly balances the comic beats with darker material, including a nightmarish gameshow hallucination. Felix Scott gives a panoply of excellent performances, from a brutal cop to a hopeless ex-husband, and there is enough vim and vigour to the production that when Isla announces that “this is, like, the best adventure ever!” you’re just about prepared to overlook the horrible thing that’s being sanctioned in the basement. While the play does lose some steam in the resolution for Isla’s character, Mary Malone’s handling of the final scene is commendable and evokes a genuine emotional response. The balance between comic beats and darker themes is deftly maintained throughout the performance, culminating in a nightmarish gameshow hallucination that leaves a lasting impact.

I came up with the title and premise in 2016 when participating in a writers’ group at the Royal Court that was led by Alice Birch. At the time Britain had recently voted to leave the EU, Donald Trump had just been elected president of the US and so, as a result, I heard a lot of people talk about hope as if it had just disappeared overnight. It was from this that I conceived the idea of writing about a woman called Hope trying to come home. I hope you have a pleasant meal, gentlemen. Is there anything else I can get for you while you eat?It’s a shame that the promise of political provocation doesn’t quite deliver . Hope has a Happy Meal wants to use its saturated fats dystopia to illuminate the counterpoint: the organic humanity, the flawed individuals, the fleshy niggly bits that don’t fit into the plastic cut and paste conformity of a cancerously corporate world. Dig in” is an exclamation we can use to make it interesting for the diners. It’s a great way to show that we’re happy to serve them and that they are not wasting our time at all. It works mostly informally, but many people will appreciate this exclamation. 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.