I am not generally a fan of community or “issue based” drama. Too often the emphasis is on the issue and not on the drama. While good, strong drama can powerfully put across any idea or point of view you want, without it you are sunk. Without good writing, good acting, good direction, good lighting and all the rest you are just left with a rant. You might as well stand on a beer crate in the middle of the stage or on a street corner and try and deliver your message from there.

So, I approached Fog with a little wariness. On paper it looked fine and had played to great success and critical acclaim at the Finborough, one of the oldest and most respected fringe theatres in London, but even so…

Well, my reservations were unfounded. Fog is an outstanding piece of theatre which I found moving, enlightening and thought provoking.

All societies, all structures, have a top and a bottom. There are those at the top who look down and there are those at the bottom who look up. There are those who don’t look anywhere and are content, or forced, to stay where they are. Britain has undergone a fundamental change in the last thirty or 40 years. Whereas it used to be the indigenous immigrants – the West Indians and Asians – who were at the bottom of the pile with little hope of improving their lot, it is now often the white youngsters who have been left behind.

Gary, known as Fog, the young white lad of the title, lives with his recently returned father and his head in the clouds on the top floor of a council high-rise with a 42” wide-screen plasma television and very little else. He lives in a fantasy world where he aspires to street cred and a BM or an Audi TT with “blacked out windows so I can see you but you can’t see me.” He is deluded to think anyone would want to see him. He is a sad, pathetic loser from a family of sad pathetic losers. Gary’s ex-soldier father, although now wanting to bring the family back together, has physically abused him and sexually abused his sister, so what chance does he have? Where can he go when there’s nowhere to go? What can he do when there’s nothing to do?

The same things were being said about black kids a few years ago. Gary’s black friend, Michael and his sister Bernice are neighbours with ostensibly no more advantages or opportunities, yet are both on the way up – Michael’s off to university and Bernice has just been promoted at work. Michael is now keen to disassociate himself from Gary and Bernice despises him for being a useless layabout. Was it his dysfunctional family that made Gary how he is? Was it his years in care that robbed him of any hope? Or is he just a loser? Nature or nurture? Should chances be given or should they be sought and seized?

Fog was a great piece of theatre. It was beautifully written by Tash Fairbanks and Toby Wharton and performed by a troupe of excellent actors which included Mr Wharton himself. He was outstanding in the title role and was totally convincing as the sad no-hoper who probably won’t even manage to finish up on top of the rubbish tip. Mark Leadbetter was frightening as his brutish father and Michael was subtlety under-played by Benjamin Cawley. The two ladies, Anna Kovel and Kanga Tanikye-Buah where both very believable in two very different roles. Miss Kovel has an incredibly expressive face which provided deep insights into her character’s soul. My only concern was that at times she was barely audible and this is something she needs to be aware of.

The “issues” in Fog were powerfully addressed but not at the expense of the drama which, after all, is what theatre is there for.    Michael Hasted