Where There Is No Time

‘Where There Is No Time’ at Seven Dials Playhouse felt brimming with potential. With production credits from Sheyi Cole, who has worked on both Small Axe and Atlanta, acting talent from the screen in Kerena Jagpal (Outnumbered Christmas special) and Milly Zero (EastEnders), as well as an original concept by writer and lead actor Mohammedally Hashemi, in which a fashion designer has to contend with how commercial pressure threatens his commitment to his mother’s Yemeni legacy.

Unfortunately, the execution didn’t quite match the ambition. The production was full of loose threads: a flurry of compelling ideas and some sharp critiques that, in the end, didn’t amount to a satisfying resolution.

The premise follows Yusuf (Mohammedally), an esteemed Irani-Yemeni designer who has been making a name for himself due to his rebellious disregard for the industry’s rules and his commitment to making political statements through his clothing, modelled by lifelong friend and muse Nina (Kerena).

Things change when he has to rely on entrepreneur Susan (Milly) to fund his upcoming show, and he quickly has to decide whether to listen to his cheerleader friend Nina and show his late mother’s ‘Dress of Faith’ to pay homage to her and his heritage, or play into the demands of corporate success that Susan is peddling. A classic loyalty trope set in an unusual setting.

It touches on powerful themes of how funding is power in the art world, and how this can silence political and even cultural expression, but whilst we see the dress in physical form, and Yusuf connecting with it through longing stares in one scene, we never fully understand the woman behind it, their relationship, or even its significance in Yemeni tradition.
Instead, the play largely focuses on the relationships between the three characters. Nina and Susan are more developed than Yusuf, and are complete opposites. Nina is deadpan and political; Susan is customer-service chirpy in a way you know is completely fake. Milly Zero is a highlight in this portrayal: her ponytail as uptight as she is, she is impressively unlikeable. Unfortunately, first-night nerves got the better of the other actors, who felt like they were performing lines—you could feel their discomfort.

Mohammedally’s writing definitely has legs. With a bit more development, there is room for his critiques of the fashion industry and the forces that govern it to fully land. Until then, though, the pause of bewilderment when the audience wasn’t sure if the play had finished captures the need for further development.