Review of ‘Kim’s Convenience’: “Señor Fawlty!”

Canada’s most mart-ass comedy brings back its launch offer with the London production of the play that inspired the popular Netflix series. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show, to let us know if this family business is actually all over the shop.

Sigh. Nothing like a smothering father who can’t speak a proper word of English and who’s always embarrassing you at the most inconvenient situations. There, I made the pun you were all waiting for. And now we can start talking about the play. I mean, I was already doing it at the start – didn’t mean anything else… You know… Stop staring at me like this!!! I have an inheritance to keep!!! And before you say anything: yes, I can see the faces you’re making – the latest server’s update even allows me to wave at you from your camera’s lens… Made you look!

Moving on - I’d better, if I don’t want to have a mental breakdown after realising I’m working on a Sunday. This weekend, the London scene opened itself (it’s old enough…) to the revival of probably the most merchandised Korean-Canadian comedy play in the last years. Kim’s Convenience, a show dealing with the joys and struggles of a “slightly” (“” “” “”) dysfunctional family running a Toronto dad-and-pop store, premiered last Friday at the Park Theatre – making of its European premiere an epilogue for its TV adaptation’s finale.

Penned by Ins Choi, who also stars as business and household leader Appa, the plot focuses on the patriarch’s relationship with the local community, as well as his own wife and children, and the clashes that different cultures, goals and dreams can bring along with them. Written with goofy charm and easy manner, the work succeeds at building up sweet, approachable characters who, despite their apparent distance, feel both welcoming and extremely relatable – allowing us to connect with them from an early start, and effortlessly inviting us to know them and, ultimately, care for them. Our backgrounds may be the opposite (I come from a country where classic Lays come in the red bag), but our personal journeys can still intertwine rather smoothly.

Delivered through an uncomplicated, direct-to-the-point script, its swift dialogue (combined with also speedy action) contributes to the bluntness of the piece. But at the same, it prevents it from achieving its full potential. Though all of the necessary elements of the narrative are there, many of them seem slightly overlooked – with the conflicts being exposed and solved way too rapidly; thus, leaving us with the faint impression of being rushed and underdeveloped.

All of its themes and storylines have enough substance to bring out a much spicier flavour: a runaway son who still wishes to return to the place that caused him so much grief; a frustrated daughter that tries to live her own life without sending away those who prevent her from doing it; and a confused father who may err time after time, but who at the end of the day, only wishes good. However, by the end of the evening we only end up craving for more – not out of gluttony, but because we’re not fully stuffed. In addition, though the jokes are enjoyable, some of them (in particular, the “lost in translation” type) become more or less repetitive and, thus, quite predictable – in some way, blurring part of the originality that the account, as a concept, oozes to some degree.

Yet, it’s only fair to say that the performance is, regardless, quite amusing and occasionally memorable. The cast’s renditions are no doubt the reason for such accomplishment. All of them playing their parts with strong appeal, both Jennifer Kim and Miles Mitchell earn their mention through their galvanizing bond onstage – forming an enchanting duo that bounces the humour back and forth with uproarious magnetism. On the other hand, Brian Law gives an inspiring portrayal as the mature, hard-working sibling Jung, regaling us with probably the most transcendent depiction in spite of his brief appearances. Also supported by Namju Go’s naive attractiveness as the devout, apologetic mother Umma, the highest praise goes anyhow to author Ins Choi, for his subtle yet electrifying interpretation of Appa – taken with a subdued approach that only enhances the hilarity and timing of the character.

A simple yet compelling idea shared through an honest, singular voice, Kim’s Convenience manages to lure the customers in through great deals of laughter, soul-searching and personal evolution, but still needs to retail more time and detail to keep its success in store. Give it an extra 30 minutes and twist its humour a little further to make it more surprising (and that way, effective), thus ensuring its attractiveness doesn’t run out of stock. It’s good enough to come by even when they’re not on sale, but requires more chips to finally turn into a real bargain.

All pictures credit to Mark Douet.

Kim’s Convenience plays at London’s Park Theatre until 10 February. Tickets are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara