Review of the stage show spawned from Poppy Jay and Rubina Pabani's podcast

OK, so there’s some talk about masturbation and a version of Peggy Lee’s Fever that mentions ‘pussy juice’. But the new stage show spin-off from the hit Brown Girls Do It Too BBC podcast isn’t about sex, at least not exclusively. 

It’s about liberation from cultural shame. It’s about misogyny. It’s about generational conflict – and so much more besides. A complicated grab-bag of issues affecting modern Asian women living in the West, delivered with honesty, nuance and above all an upbeat, empowering sense of humour from two natural, charismatic performers.

Podcasts rarely make great stage shows since they so often fail to recognise it’s an entirely different medium. But Poppy Jay, Rubina Pabani and their creative team have created a proper theatrical experience inspired by their work online rather than simply trying to recreate it. There’s even a set, evoking the 1990s childhood bedroom of their youth, that complements the intimacy of the material. 

This show focuses on the repressive environment which spurned them to start the podcast. A cultural landscape in which they never saw brown people talking about sex in the media, and certainly not among their families.

To this day, Jay’s parents don’t know she makes the podcast, and it’s no exaggeration to suspect they would ostracise her if they ever found out. Pabani married a white man doesn’t speak to her father any more.

Such tensions are ultimately exploited to pack a powerful emotional punch, but otherwise provide a bedrock of significance, relevance and urgency to their lively conversations. 

A lifetime of judgment has given them internalised misogyny and self-hate to deal with, and they are passionate about overturning ingrained mores that see sex as dirty and any woman who might dare to enjoy it as a ‘slag’. And that’s not just an attitude they get from the older generation, either. Where – they asked pointedly – were all their male cousins and friends fighting their corner against the repression they encountered in their formative years?

The more they reveal about their background – Jay especially – the more impressive it is to consider where they are now and how they approach the topics in such a joyous, accessible way. 

And relatable, too, for those of a similar background. There are howls of recognition when they go into graphic descriptions of waxing. But they have a disarming honesty that you don’t need to be a brown girl to appreciate.

Talk of growing up with black influences rings true, too, as they mimic Asian ‘rudebhais’ who adopted the culture rather too wholeheartedly. 

It’s remarkable how upbeat they are, given all the obstacles they faced on their path to becoming so open about being sexual creatures. Mama Told Me Not To Come is a virtual – and sometimes literal – ‘screw you’ to their detractors. Comics using trolls’ social media posts in the shows is nothing new, but here it’s a crucial part of the architecture. 

Occasionally the pair tip over into self-congratulatory territory – mentioning their podcast awards and the fan mail they get from listeners as they boost each other’s egos. But then they have a lot to congratulate themselves on.

They have an amazing chemistry and their open and honest chat fizzes with joy. Even if they’ve had these conversations a hundred times before, they still feel fresh.

The dialogue is interspersed with sketches which are a little more uneven such as making a sport of their sexual awakenings or the ‘coconut crimes’ hotline, which plays with the idea of people criticised for being ‘brown on the outside, white on the inside’, the concept of being a ‘race traitor’ that underpins everything. Elsewhere, a flick of audience participation pays strong dividends. 

There is nuance to what they say, too, even expressing some sympathy for the ‘appalling aunties’ whose snide putdowns did so much damage to the pair’s self-esteem as they grew up. Now they empathise with the challenges of coming to a new country with a new culture and a new language that the older generation faced.

Nonetheless,’ what will people say?’ is the judgmental phrase that echoes down the generations.

Well, they’ll say Mama Told Me Not To Come is a triumphant, liberating, important, and joyfully fun celebration of not only brown girls’ sexuality, but their fundamental right to be who they want to be. 

• Brown Girls Do It Too: Mama Told Me Not To Come is at Soho Theatre until June 10.

Review date: 31 May 2023
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Soho Theatre