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. None of the other alternatives use a pronoun to introduce ourselves. That’s because they’re slightly more informal choices. “I” allows us to be a little more personable to the people we’re serving, which some people value in food service. I would say the play is firmly rooted in now and the politics of the last five years, but by it being set in the People’s Republic of Koka Kola (rather than Britain) there’s a detachment that hopefully makes it feel a little more universal. Despite the det ails of the post-democr atic corpor ate country being too light, it’s still ple asing. It’s just th at such an environment needs to h ave a gre ater imp act on the life dec isions m ade by the ch ar acters. The ch ar acters’ lives ch ange forever at the end of the show, but th is is less to do with corpor ate cruelty and more to do with dysfunction al person alities. During the next 20 minutes In Stereo shows O’Flynn’s lonely narrator experiencing a psychotic episode in which the actor’s recorded voiceover tells the supernatural story of a damp stain on the wall which gradually takes over her life. Alone on stage with a television, the silent O’Flynn moves warily as her entire life begins to be consumed not only by the growing mould around her, but also by fractures of her self as her words splinter into several simultaneous and competing voices. McDowall shows how the mottled room, itself a character, will outlive this one woman and will absorb the lives of future generations until climate change washes over everyone.

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.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.” Let me know if there’s anything else you need” works if you do not want to say “enjoy your meal.” The sentiment is still there, but we do not have to say it outright for the people to understand what we mean. Instead, we can offer them a different service. The most mentally explosive experience, in the main Downstairs space, is McDowall’s trilogy of short plays, which are all performed by Kate O’Flynn in what must surely be a career-defining event. The first 20 minutes is Northleigh, 1940, in which a young woman joins her father in their Morrison shelter, a wire-mesh tomb-like container on the floor of the dining room, during a wartime air raid. Starting with the elevated and inflated tone of lyrical poetry –“Alone, on ashen sands that yearned beyond/ All measure known in realms familiar” –the piece then grounds itself in northern everyday chat, before evoking, more abstractly, the falling German bombs. It’s intriguing and allusive, but less impressive than the next two monologues. Tom Fowler’s gently amusing play has all the ingredients of a fast-moving road movie, satirically flavoured by a context of rampant capitalism.

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. 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. 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. I hope you have a pleasant meal” is the most formal phrase on this list. We mostly find this one in more formal or upper-class restaurants. It works well when you want to be polite and respectful to your diners, which is helpful in many establishments.You can use “bon appetit” in English just as easily as you can if you speak French. English speakers know what it means, and they know its sentiment. That’s why it’s better than saying a simple “enjoy your meal.” I hope you have a pleasant meal, gentlemen. Is there anything else I can get for you while you eat? Naomi Dawson’s set design deserves special mention, as the neon-lit, multi-levelled structure effectively transports the audience through various locations within the dystopian world. From flats to train toilets, each scene is seamlessly transitioned, contributing to the overall flow of the play. In these cases, we can offer our services at a later time by saying, “let me know if there’s anything else you need.” It’s still an incredibly polite way to say that you’re happy to help, and it’s also a closing statement that allows the diners to understand that it’s time for them to eat. 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.

The serious satirical swipe at consumer culture gets sadly lost along the way, but there is plenty of humanity here to make up for it. 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. 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. That’s why phrases like “it’s all yours” exist. They are more subtle in their delivery, which helps many servers to remain confident and enthusiastic, without saying “enjoy your meal” in a condescending way. This must be leftfield new writing’s sunny summer start. Like Alistair McDowall’s All of It, Tom Fowler’s Hope Has a Happy Meal features striking performances in a story where recognisably painful human emotions — loss of family members — are set in a dystopian vision of the world’s future. In the Upstairs studio space, we arrive in the People’s Republic of Koka Kola, formerly the UK, a hilariously lurid police state where freedoms are acutely curtailed and consumer capitalism is totally dominant. But it’s a dystopia which is drenched with, instead of the usual greyness of Orwellian nightmares, a richly colourful bonanza of bright hues and jolly shopping. Very apt, but what’s the story?

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. But in the People’s Republic of Koka Kola – a world of dwindling resources, corruption and corporate giants – what happens to Hope? The play follows the return of Hope after a nearly 30-year absence, as she navigates a corporation-run police state while attempting to reconnect with her family. Tom Fowler’s writing showcases a keen comedic sensibility, and the cast delivers it with aplomb, setting a winning tone from the very beginning. 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. 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.

Heading to the BP Nature Reserve where Hope believes her sister is living, they are helped to evade the authorities en route by a passenger on the Koka Kola Railway and a lorry driver who likes American country music. 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.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.