Review: MARRIAGE MATERIAL, Lyric Hammersmith
Helen Murray
Adapted by Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti and based on the novel by Sathnam Sanghera, MARRIAGE MATERIAL tells the intergenerational story of the Bains family in Wolverhampton. Set initially in the 1970s, the family’s corner shop run dutifully by the ailing Mr Bains (Jaz Singh Deol) and the ever-determined Mrs Bains (Avita Jay) is their pride, livelihood and anchor. But with Mr Bains’ declining health, keeping the shop afloat becomes a mounting struggle.
Their daughters, Kamaljit (Kiran Landa) and Surinder (Anoushka Deshmukh) are reluctantly drawn into the family business. Surinder dreams of university and a life beyond the confines of the shop, while Kamaljit seems resigned to fulfilling her parents’ expectations. When Mr Bains dies, the family starts to come undone. Mrs Bains, desperate to hold onto some sense of social standing and financial stability, moves quickly to marry off her daughters. Kamaljit, despite being in love with Tanvir (Omar Malik), tearfully accepts her fate. Surinder, devastated and defiant, runs away with a travelling salesman and aspiring poet (Tommy Belshaw), hoping for a better life. Belshaw brings much-needed lightness through his characters Jim and Bill (in the second half), offering well-timed humour that cuts through the tension and brings some warmth to the story.
The first act moves slowly, and it takes time for the cast to fully settle into their characters. Some exaggerated and inconsistent Indian accents- especially from Mr Bains and the meddling neighbour Dhanda (Irfan Shamji)- can be distracting and occasionally pull you out of the moment. Still, the emotional threads are there, particularly between Mr Bains and Surinder (who he problematically calls his “son”). It's clear he sees her as the boy he never had, a dynamic full of weight, but the play doesn’t really dig into it. Likewise, Mrs Bains' decision to marry off her daughters is framed more as a plot point than a commentary on generational trauma. The story brushes up against big issues like gender bias, class and tradition, but rarely confronts them head-on.
In the second half, we jump to present-day Wolverhampton. Tanvir has passed away, and Arjan( Kamaljit and Tanvir’s son) is a successful Creative Director living in London with his fiancée, Claire. As he returns home to help plan the funeral with Ranjit (Dhanda’s loud, brash son), he discovers a long-buried family secret: his Aunt Surinder, who he believed had died in a car crash, is still alive.
There are glimmers of something real here, especially in Arjan’s grief- not just for his father, but for a version of himself he feels he’s lost. His mother tongue, his identity, the people he thought he knew. But the long-awaited reunion between Kamaljit and Surinder feels emotionally muted and underwhelming. For someone who made the boldest choice in the family, Surinder’s voice is oddly absent. We never really get to hear her side.
The show often touches on larger themes from Enoch Powell and the Wolverhampton riots to female foeticide and the value placed on sons over daughters. Given everything going on politically, from culture wars to immigration debates, the play definitely lands at the right time, even if it doesn’t always go as deep as it could. A final celebratory dance sequence tries to wrap everything up neatly, but it feels too tidy for a story this layered. The bow comes a little too tight. A messier, more ambiguous ending might have been the braver choice.
As a South Asian reviewer, it’s always exciting to see our stories on big stages, but while MARRIAGE MATERIAL touches on a lot, it doesn’t dig deep enough. We left wanting more honesty, more edge, more bite. It’s still a meaningful night at the theatre even if not a ground-breaking one.
*** Three Stars
Reviewed by Aleeza Humranwala