You don’t need to have read Fast Food Nation to know modern meat is created in an environment which would fit happily into the pictorial world of Hieronymus Bosch. A fake food advert in Charlie Brooker’s TV Go Home book – for a product named Dead Hoof-and-Eyelid Meatlike Grills – makes no bones (pun intended) about who this reconstituted slop is aimed at ‘Gobble up a meatlike grill while our CEO sits at home dining on pheasant. It’s all you scum deserve.’
We are what we eat. In age of financial strife, child hunger and queues at food banks, not everyone can afford to be fussy. Fast food producers resort to cheap and desperate gimmicks – meat in amusing shapes! free plastic toys! – in order to attract young consumers, and make sure they remain loyal. Consumption is the ultimate goal of every marketing team, even if that means selling your soul to get there.
Which brings us to Sweet Dreams, a co production between Factory International, and the art collective MLF (Marshmallow Lazer Quest). Billed as a ‘new immersive experience’, Sweet Dreams takes audiences on a surreal and satirical journey through food, appetite and desire, seen mostly from the point of a naïve food mascot, Chicky Ricky (smartly voiced by actor and comedian Munya Chawawa). As the audience moves through a series of themed rooms, other characters are introduced including Penny Peckish and the sinister ‘Boss’, who has a Rolodex instead of a face (voiced by Reggie Watts). Chicky Ricky thinks he’s living his best life but the company he works for is in commercial decline. For Ricky, it’s a painful road to fast food Damascus.
Says MLF director Robin McNicholas: ‘Sweet Dreams holds a cartoon mirror on our world. We’re serving up a story where audiences can deepen their connection to the food they eat. We aim to spark further conversations about our place in the food chain, via chirpy cartoon faces that are often the gatekeepers to the things we consume.’
The age range for the show is 12 plus. A responsible move because very young children would be freaked out by some scenes. At times, it feels like this is collaboration between satirist Chris Morris and horror director Ti West, with additional input from kitsch artist Jeff Koons. The factory conveyer belt is the stuff of nightmares, with workers encouraged to have regular ‘despair breaks’ and scream into the abyss via a metal funnel (an idea stolen from Unnovations, another blackly comic Charlie Brooker publication).
On a purely visual level, this show is a knockout, a jaw dropping blend of motion graphics, gaming, illustration, and bespoke objects. The scene of a dozen chewing mouths is something David Lynch would kill to have in his next movie. The vocal presence of gifted comic actress Morgana Robinson (who many will know from the sitcom Stuck), is a plus as are the character illustrations from French artists McBess.
But it’s the satirical script from former chef Simon Wroe which is the secret weapon. Wroe’s sly corporate speak is chilling and hilarious; in fact, I’m tempted to watch Sweet Dreams a second time, just to hear the rich, playful language. It’s a pleasure to see a show where a writer is given carte blanche to let his imagination run wild.
It’s unlikely anyone will emerge from Sweet Dreams eager to eat white meat. Some people may feel nauseous. Others may become vegetarian. What’s that loud whirring sound? It’s Bernard Matthews, spinning in his grave. Bootiful.
Sweet Dreams is at Aviva Studios until 1 September 2024.