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. It’s an amusing play with believable, well-performed central characters and a plot line that hooks the audience. Although it touches on a few serious issues and includes moments of violence, these are dealt with superficially as the play encourages a light, entertaining mood of hope. 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.

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.Follow Hope on a surreal and frenetic quest through a hyper-capitalist country in this new play by Tom Fowler, directed by Royal Court Associate Director, Lucy Morrison. 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. That’s what makes it such a strong choice. However, it’s not pronounced as elegantly in English as it is in French, which you’ll need to understand before saying it yourself.

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. Beyond naming places after brands and a message on the plane, there isn’t really the sense of a hyper-capitalist dictatorship. The play could have as easily been set in modern Britain with only a few changes. There should have been more sponsorships, more intrusion, and a greater sense that they are being spied on. In reality, Elon Musk is suggesting a future that includes serfdom on Mars, companies drape themselves in LGBTQ+ flags whilst funding hate groups and clothes manufacturers say their products represent freedom, even as they are made in sweatshops – all more ridiculous and dystopian than is presented here. 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.” 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. Hope Has a Happy Meal is a thought-provoking tragic-comic-satiric-allegory that takes viewers on a journey through the dystopian capitalist landscape of the People’s Republic of Koka Kola.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. Tom Fowler, the playwright behind the upcoming play Hope has a Happy Meal, spoke to us about the creative process and inspiration of his first full length play. Moreover, he sheds light on the evolving writing process, which, for him, has been a transformative journey of self-education and the discovery of his own political voice. Via Hope, writer Tom Fowler drops us into Satire Land – or, more precisely, the People’s Republic of Koka Kola. In this Happy Meal dystopia, everything – from cities, to train lines, to armies – is owned and branded by big corporations. With much trepidation, Hope is returning to Koka Kola, after decades away, to reunite with her sister and someone else she left behind years ago. But her visit becomes considerably more dramatic after she meets waitress Isla (Mary Malone) – who’s fleeing with her baby nephew from his father, a police officer who she says killed her sister – and a suicidal, soon-to-be-former park ranger, Alex (Nima Taleghani). They band together to find a fabled commune run by Hope’s sister. The preferred version is “bon appetit.” It’s a French phrase that has become increasingly popular in English languages. Everyone understands what it means, and it makes for a refreshing change from the usual “enjoy your meal.” It works both formally and informally. Bon Appetit 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.