Shifters: Making Something Beautiful Out of Broken Things
‘Two little Black kids
destined to oppose each other
push each other
shift each other
until they could be formed again.’
I recently watched ‘Shifters’, a fine play by Benedict Lombe now running at the Bush Theatre. (Directed by Lynette Linton. Until 30 March, and sold out I’m afraid. It will be a crime if it doesn’t receive a West End transfer.)
Dre: So why are you looking at me like that?
Des: How do you know how I’m looking at you when you haven’t looked at me once?
‘Shifters’ is a touching philosophical rom-com that focuses on the evolving relationship between Dre (Tosin Cole), a working class British-Nigerian, and Des (Heather Agyepong), the British-Congolese daughter of a neurologist. They first encountered each other at school in a small town near Crewe, and they have been friends, lovers, soulmates.
When we meet them at the start of the play, at a funeral, they are both 32. Dre, who has remained in that same small town, now owns a restaurant. Des has a new life in New York as an artist and illustrator. They haven’t spoken to each other for eight years.
Dre: You didn’t stay.
Des: You didn’t ask.
Dre: I’m asking now.
Over the course of the play we learn through flashbacks what has passed between them. And we explore the idea of true love, fate and free will.
Des: If every decision you made led you to where you are now – that means there are paths you didn’t choose, right? So if you chose a different path, you’d probably have a different life, in a different world, with a different person, right? So that means there has to be more than one out there for us.
It’s easy to see why Dre and Des were first attracted to each other. They are both similarly quick witted, charming and funny. And they are also amusingly different. They spar over their contrasting social and cultural backgrounds, their tastes in music and food.
Dre: Our house looks like your house gave birth to it.
Their intimacy is revealed in the way they switch so naturally between humour and seriousness; in the way they dance so comfortably together; in the way they occasionally adopt each other’s language; in the way they clearly know each other’s character.
Des: You smile when you’re happy. You smile when you’re sad. And when you’re angry and scared and upset, you just keep smiling … like you don’t think it’s safe to stop.
But we also learn that their relationship has been impaired by their experiences of family trauma, grief and abuse.
Des: One day you have a mum. Next, you don’t. But no one tells you – how to remember that she was yours. And you were hers. And you belonged - to someone.
These individual tragedies clearly prevented their romance from blossoming. And catalysed their separation.
Des: Maybe this is the moment you can both sense that something is ending that never truly began.
So, can their love be rekindled?
Dre is, on the face of it, outgoing, relaxed, positive - always asking ‘Why not?’ He views the world simply, sentimentally, romantically. We note that his restaurant serves a fusion of west and central African cuisines. He believes that this encounter at the funeral is their opportunity to start again.
Des: What I feel, deep in my bones, is that soulmates are real – then Des you have always been mine. You always believed in me. And I believe in you. And when you believe in someone, it’s not just for a moment or for a while. It’s forever.
Des is the deep thinker of the two, a self-confessed ‘recovering perfectionist.’ She is cautious, introverted, deeply rational.
Des: If we say there are only two choices, what about all the rest? All the other ways of doing things?
Dre: I dunno – maybe decisions wouldn’t get made if there were too many choices?
Des: Maybe decisions shouldn’t be the most important thing?
Dre: How would anything get done if there were no decisions?
Des: You’re asking the wrong questions.
Des suspects that the powerful recollection of their first love has constrained her ability to form new partnerships; that her past has infected her present and haunts her future. She ponders the concept that ‘memory shapes our reality.’
Des: Even now, as I’m trying to remember the conversation I had with her, my mind’s already modified it.
She resists the idea that she and Dre are destined to be together. She wants to be independent; to remain in control; to release her future from her past.
Dre: You think you can control how much you love someone?
Des: I think we can control anything if we try.
This leaves Des in a quandary.
Des: I’m just stuck, at this crossroads, looking at all these paths in front of me, and I can’t – move.
Of course, ‘Shifters’ is a play about the enduring power of young love; the shadow it can cast over the rest of people’s lives.
But it’s also, on a broader level, about the tension between fate and free will; between independence and belonging.
It suggests we should be aware of, and make accommodation for, the many external factors that impact our relationships: past tragedies and historic attachments. We should refuse to accept that our destiny is pre-determined, whilst at the same time not letting our autonomy deny us happiness. And we should be prepared to adjust our positions; to evolve, change and shift.
As Dre optimistically tinkers with an old record player he’s sure he can fix, Des quietly observes:
Des: I think we can still make something beautiful. Out of broken things. If we’re careful.
'When the road gets dark
And you can no longer see,
Just let my love throw a spark
And have a little faith in me.
When the tears you cry
Are all you can believe,
Just give these loving arms a try, baby,
And have a little faith in me.
Have a little faith in me.’
John Hiatt, 'Have a Little Faith in Me
No. 462