Sucker Punch | Theatre review (original) (raw)

Roy Williams, as we know from Sing Yer Heart Out for the Lads, is adept at using sport as metaphor. The big difference with Sucker Punch is that he shows as well as tells. Under Miriam Buether's design, the Court has been radically restructured around a boxing ring in which we see two young black fighters skipping, sparring and engaging in a title bout. Far from being liberated, however, they remain pawns in a larger game: as someone points out: "White people love nuttin' better than to see two black men beat up on each other."

Set in the 1980s, Williams's play takes place in a south London gym owned by a small-time, pugnacious Thatcherite, Charlie, who spies talent in two local teenagers. Under Charlie's tutelage, the conformist Leon becomes a contender, going on to win British and European title belts. But he is accused of being an Uncle Tom, not least for sacrificing his love for the boss's daughter to his ambition. Troy, on the other hand, is always in trouble with the law, decamps to Detroit and is spotted by a powerful black promoter who inevitably pits him against his old friend, Leon.

Even if Troy's rise is implausibly rapid, Williams skilfully uses the ring to create a fable about race and money. He shows how Leon and Troy enjoy the illusion of autonomy but are ultimately at the mercy of promoters, for whom they are just meal tickets. Sacha Wares's thrilling staging makes the audience complicit in the process and is rich in telling detail: even the way Leon relies on Charlie to unravel his hand-wraps says everything about the boxer's state of dependence. Aided by superb performances from Daniel Kaluuya and Anthony Welsh as the two fighters and Nigel Lindsay as the racist Charlie, Williams's 90-minute play packs a knockout punch.