Review: THE MEAT KINGS! (INC.) OF BROOKLYN HEIGHTS, Park Theatre

It’s the fourth of July, and Cafarelli & Sons has a new employee, T. Paula has a reputation to maintain and a future to secure, but she is struggling to keep the lights on. Conservative policies plague Trump’s America and the government is failing its people. The staff find themselves fighting tooth and nail to protect their positions in the business, while the American Dream shatters in front of their eyes.

Artistic Director of Papatango George Turvey presents the winner of their 2024 New Writing Prize: The Meat Kings! (Inc.) of Brooklyn Heights. Hannah Doran’s debut play thrives under Turvey’s enticing vision, alternating spells of emotional introspection with devastating blows to the gut. 

Doran successfully blends the personal, the political, and the sociological in a piece that balances amusement with deeper reflection. Meat Kings is funny. It’s also genuinely harrowing. Even at its most predictable, the pacing makes it work. The script is jovial, natural, with bouts of well-constructed rationale that integrate with its more colloquial foundation. Its characters are charismatic and intriguing, each with a defined backstory that transpires, detail by detail, via their offhand comments.

Marcello Cruz (JD), Ash Hunter (Billy), and Eugene McCoy (David) share a curious bond as the two apprentices and “senior cutter” of the butcher’s. They joke and lovingly tease one another, concealing a layer of envious competition and contempt. Once Mithra Malek’s T joins the cohort, the atmosphere shifts. Jackie Clune – the hardened, no-nonsense owner of the joint, Paula – acts as the equaliser amongst them. She can be harsh, but she’s understanding and empathetic too.

Their performances are mostly sharp, revelling in Doran’s quick and realistic dialogue. Though, it seems as if some of them get distracted and lose their way here and there in an effort to control their thick New York accent, their deliveries are intense, enraging, so multi-faceted they’re a joy to witness as pure interactions. Cruz is especially heartbreaking as JD, Juan Diego, who immigrated from Mexico with his family when he was two.

His colleagues call him a dreamer: he wants to open his own butchery and cares deeply about his career. But that’s not the full extent of his nickname, he is a capital-D Dreamer as well: he’s allowed to remain in the USA under the DACA program (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals), which was passed as a compromise for the proposed DREAM Act (Development, Relief, and Education for Alien Minors) under the Obama administration. This legislation protects eligible young immigrants from deportation and grants them work permits, but its status needs to be renewed regularly by the individual. This information becomes ammunition.

A chain reaction of blackmail, manipulation, and betrayal starts. It raises the stakes and drives Doran’s plot. Some of its points are overcooked and overly conventional, but Turvey’s direction keeps it interesting. Ultimately, the villain is the severe lack of introspection and self-awareness that pervades the characters. It’s a shame that Doran feels the need to sum up the meaning of her play. Paula delivers a heated invective against the system that allowed whatever happened to happen. 

It’s pointed and precise, but it spells the message out too much for it to be necessary. This said, some audiences may need that level of explanation, and, after all, Clune delivers the monologue with frustrated, passionate anger, reaching the climax of her performance. So, who are we to slate the moment? Malek’s journey as T is also remarkable. She goes from being timid and reserved to standing up for herself against her own blood, while Hunter and McCoy feed off each other’s viciousness.

While the show is overall a strong accomplishment – entertaining, thoughtful, and decisive in its conceptual significance – it falls short if you’re detail-oriented enough to notice. For instance, why are the cutters handling meat right before they grab their backpacks or touch their hair, only to then go back to picking up the meat again with the same pair of gloves? It’s the little things.

At the same time, Mona Camille’s set is a striking depiction of a naturalistic cutting room. Stainless steel dominates the stage, while animal carcasses hang from the flies. The cast works through slicing off solid gelatine that can indeed look like flesh from far away (hence why all the touching of foreign objects comes off as a bit icky). Bethany Gupwell’s lights villainise almost anyone during the scene changes, while Asaf Zohar’s soundscape manipulates our perception at various moments. It’s a thrilling production, but too imperfect to please.

Read our guest blog from writer Hannah Doran here.

The Meat Kings! (Inc.) of Brooklyn Height runs at the Park Theatre until 29 November.