I wasn’t quite sure what to expect from Marriage Material, written by Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti and directed by Iqbal Khan, but I came away genuinely engaged by its story, performances, and sense of place. Set in and around a Sikh family-owned corner shop in Wolverhampton, this adaptation of Sathnam Sanghera’s novel of the same name (itself based on Arnold Bennett’s 1908 novel The Old Wives’ Tale) captures the shifting tides of family life and the generation gap, the immigrant experience, culture, and identity. It spans from the early 1970s through to the present day.
The Bains family are at the heart of the story. Mum (played by Avita Jay) is strong-willed but constrained by tradition and societal expectations about a woman’s place in the home. Dad (Jaz Singh Deol) is the ailing patriarch – under pressure, stressed, and needing to feel in control of both the family and their family business: the corner shop. The two Bains girls couldn’t be more different – Kamaljit (Kiran Landa), the elder, is more compliant and resigned to doing what’s expected of her, whilst Surinder (Anoushka Deshmukh) is much more independent, bright, curious, beautiful, and eager to find her own place in the world. We also meet community elder Dhanda (Irfan Shamji), Kamaljit’s love interest, Tanvir (Omar Malik), and the charming chocolate salesman Jim (played by Tommy Belshaw). In the second half, we meet the next generation – Dhanda’s son, Ranjit (also played by Omar Malik), and Kamaljit’s son, Arjan (also played by Jaz Singh Deol), as well as Arjan’s white girlfriend, Claire (Celeste Dodwell).




The production design helps anchor the story both in time and place. The set (Good Teeth) is centred around the living quarters at the back of the corner shop. It feels appropriately cramped, domestic, and of its time. The set transforms elegantly to a range of other settings – the front of the shop, a flat in London, a seedy council estate in the West Midlands. The scene changes are smooth, speedy, and clever. The costumes (also Good Teeth) were authentic without being over the top. The sound design (Holly Khan), with its well-chosen track choices, neatly cements the era and mood.
What stood out most to me was the acting. Every performance felt grounded and believable, and the family scenes had a sense of warmth and familiarity. You could tell the cast members were comfortable with one another, which made the sibling squabbles, family and community tensions, and also the quieter moments feel that much more authentic. The dialogue flowed naturally and was well-paced. The first half did a great job of introducing the characters with enough depth that you felt invested in them.


There were some real highlights too. The first meeting between Surinder and Jim was an absolute delight – funny, awkward, and charming. I also enjoyed watching Kamaljit’s romance unfold with Tanvir. The Bains family dynamics were well drawn, especially in the relationship between Mr and Mrs Bains and between the two sisters. Both clearly showed the different expectations placed on men vs women, and the additional pressure on women to hold everything together.
Although the story is rooted in the British Punjabi immigrant experience, many of its themes – like family loyalty, fear of the ‘foreign’, the tug-of-war between tradition and independence – felt relevant to the era more generally. I’m sure plenty of white British families were having similar conversations back then about what they wanted and expected from their children. The play also didn’t shy away from the racism immigrants faced in mid-century Britain, or that some of those same attitudes still linger today, with the corner shop being a kind of frontline for some of those encounters.


Whilst the pacing was solid throughout, it did feel like a lot of book had been squeezed into a single play. I came away feeling I wanted more time with certain characters and wished we could have dug deeper into some of the backstories that were only hinted at. If the books the play was based on (both Sathnam Sanghera and Arnold Bennett) had been on sale in the foyer, I think I might just have bought a copy of them to start reading on the way home, to fill in some of the gaps.
That said, the play struck the right balance between the weightier themes and humour – the lightness and the shade. Both are needed for each to land effectively. One of the joys of live theatre is the collective experience, and the audience the night I went was wonderfully vocal – laughing one moment, tutting the next, and then a joint gasp at something unexpected. You don’t get that watching something at home. I think I enjoyed the audience almost as much as the play.


I’d definitely recommend Marriage Material to others. There’s a thoughtful mix of humour and heart, and universal themes that will resonate for many – about what it means to be British, the gap between urban and provincial attitudes and life, the generation gap, and the culture(s) that shape us. Whether you’re drawn to the nostalgia of the 70s, interested in the immigrant experience, or just love a story about real people navigating life, this play has a lot to offer. It might even make you look at your local corner shop in a different light.
Marriage Material is playing at Lyric Hammersmith until 21st June 2025.
Tickets from theatreticketsdirect.co.uk
Words by Helen Keegan
Photography Helen Murray