Jewels from the Taj Mahal for the Bush’s reopening
Guards at the Taj Bush Theatre
Once upon a time, in 1648 to be exact, there were two young imperial guards stationed outside the newly completed Taj Mahal. They were under strict instructions not to talk or to turn and gaze upon this wonder of wonders at the dawn of its unveiling.
The penalty for sedition in the reign of Shah Jahan? At best 40 lashes, at worst: “Being sewn into the hide of a water buffalo and left in the sun for seven days” – or so the fretful Humayun reminds his blithely garrulous companion-in-
arms Babur, who dreams of guarding the emperor’s harem, has a prescient idea for a flying machine and yearns, too, to escape to the jungle. At which point – a few minutes into this two-hander by Rajiv Joseph, which opens the Bush after a £4.3 million renovation – I think it’s safe for serious students of this architectural marvel (the Taj Mahal, not the Bush) to set aside their note-pads.
Guards at the Taj is far more concerned with these externally placed fictional guards than it is with the inside story of the Taj. In the main, Joseph (an American playwright, his father of Indian ancestry) is attracted by the shiny jewels of fable not the hard stones of fact. We learn of a grisly edict by the emperor requiring all 20,000 labourers to have their hands lopped off, lest anything more beautiful ever be constructed. It’s the stuff of folklore – and serves here to drench the drab, barely adorned stage with watery gore and stir a burst of defiance in the idealistic Babur at the thought that he has symbolically killed “Beauty”.
You can pass the brief 80 minutes or so of this slight piece (too slight, I’d say, to fully declare the main auditorium reopen for business) mourning the more expansive historical drama it could have been. But take it on its own mildly entertaining, mildly enlightening terms – flying the flag, with its bromantic banter, for the forgotten underlings of mighty human achievement – and there’s easily enough to enjoy. There’s certainly no faulting the barefoot leads: a charismatic Darren Kuppan, flaunting a hot torso as Babur, and a sweetly agitated Danny Ashok as Humayun. Jamie Lloyd directs with judicious restraint as if to say: it’s a tough job getting a building back on its feet, but someone’s got to do it.
Until May 20. Tickets: 020 8743 5050; bushtheatre.co.uk