How Lenny Henry takes on the Windrush scandal with a shocking and funny one-man show 

August in England

(Bush Theatre, London)

Verdict: Go Henry!

Judgement:

There’s an old saying in storytelling that you should make them laugh, make them cry, and make them wait.

That’s exactly what Lenny Henry does in his one-man show about the national disgrace that was the Windrush scandal.

I did wonder if he was a little behind on the government’s forced displacement policy. But I didn’t wonder for long.

His greatest achievement here is to put a human face on the statistics of British nationals threatened with deportation.

That face is the fictional Jamaican immigrant August, who comes to the United Kingdom in 1962 with his mother’s passport. He and Mom are off to a bad start. . . discovering Dad in a room in Peckham with an overly obliging redhead.

Mama’s answer is to tow Papa to West Bromwich. There, after hanging out with a militant reggae band called Black Fist at school in the 1970s, August set up a fruit and vegetable business before marrying his great love Wilma. But then, after their children grow up, life begins to unravel – first when Wilma falls ill, then when Theresa May’s Home Office moves to make Britain a ‘hostile environment for immigrants’, leaving the anonymous company Capita to do her dirty work.

Anyone who could not prove they had Leave To Remain on their passport was told they would be deported – in some cases half a century or more after arrival.

Before we get into that, though, there’s plenty of excellent Lenny Henry comedy: warm impersonations, great gags, and self-effacing humour. One character is memorably described as “miserable like Nigel Farage at the Notting Hill Carnival.”

His greatest achievement here is to put a human face on the statistics of British nationals threatened with deportation

Using both Jamaican and British manners, Henry is quick to signal when to laugh with a flutter of his eyelids. And even at age 64, he can still pull off the moves, whether that’s daring butterfly dancing or raunchy twerking. But he’s also a gorgeous plain West Midlander in his suit, tie and flat cap.

Most cunningly, luring us into August’s everyday life of glee and adversity – presenting his story as proud British social history – it adds to the shock when he is abruptly stripped of his national identity.

It would be hard to keep your eyes dry in the closing videos of three people so suddenly turned on by their homeland.

Funny at first, then shocking, it’s well worth the wait.