You might expect times to have changed since Barrie Keeffe’s play Sus, which explores the deep-set systemic racism within the Metropolitan police and premiered over 40 years ago. But with Black people still nine times more likely to be stopped and searched than their white counterparts, and the recent resignation of the Met Police’s commissioner Cressida Dick after being accused by the London mayor of failing to deal with misogyny and racism in the force, it feels as insidious as ever.
Set on the eve of Thatcher’s landslide victory in 1979, Sus zooms in on a police questioning room, where an unemployed father of three, Delroy (Stedroy Cabey) has been bought in for interrogation. Initially believing he is there under Sus (suspected person) laws, it eventually unravels that he is actually being accused of the murder of his pregnant wife, Georgie.
Led by two sleazy police officers Wilby (Fergal Coghlan) and his commander Karn (Alexander Neal), his grilling is harrowing and uncomfortable. As Karn, Neal is a hideous top cop controller. Desperate for Thatcher’s “new dawn” to bring with it tighter immigration laws and increased pay for police, he is an expert at conveying a domineering vileness – even if his venomous laughter occasionally strays into the realms of melodrama.
But while Keeffe’s writing is still potent, this production lacks subtlety. Directed by Paul Tomlinson, the moments of Delroy’s isolated sadness are ruined by a garish flashing lighting design by Jamie Platt. There are clumsy inconsistencies too: some whispers shared between the policemen are audible while we are forced to believe others could go unnoticed. Phone beeps are played loudly when Delroy’s calls to a lawyer are left unanswered, but it remains a silent prop on any other occasion it is used. If Tomlinson hopes to build a world of real naturalism, his directorial decisions need more polish.
The pressure of the play’s early parts is broken by the slow acting of police procedure in the final scenes. But the might of Sus is its continued relevance. This is an abhorrent snapshot of history that brings shame on today’s failure to progress and the police brutality of now.
