open submissions festival | 2025
Benjamin Kuffuor
writer: working men

ROYAL COURT THEATRE
WORKING MEN
Saturday 12 APRIL, 19:45
By Benjamin Kuffuor
Directed by Nancy Medina
APR, 8, 2025
A fatal incident on a council estate leads a team of employees to retrace their steps as senior management, local counsellors and the wider public are in search of someone to blame.
Working Men is about money and social housing. The play looks at how decisions are made for those who have no choice.
The inaugural festival runs from Monday 7 – Saturday 12 April in the Jerwood Theatre Upstairs.
Hi Benjamin, thank you for talking with The New Current and congratulations on having Working Men part of the inaugural Open Submissions Festival. What inspired you to submit Working Men to The Royal Court’s new festival?
The thing that excited me most about the newest iteration of the Court is the hiring of writers as associates and dramaturgs. It gives one the confidence that your work will be handled with care and a greater sense of empathy from authors who have been in your position.
Beyond that, there seems to be a commitment to more challenging work. Although, there was no guarantee that my play would progress there, I was confident that I would at least be given a fair shake.
Working Men won the George Devine Award in 2024. What did it mean to you to get this type of recognition for your play?
It was strange and it still is. Incredibly joyous, but strange. I don’t know if for me it was about the play, as much as it was a testament to the resilience for the many bruises I’ve taken on route.
In practical terms, it meant that a lot of people wanted to read my work who perhaps wouldn’t have wanted too before. That recognition and the money helps a long way in helping to create new work which is the most important thing of all.
What I do love about winning the award is that it will always be true. It’s something that can’t be taken away. Irrespective of what happens in the future. It will always be true.
Your previous play Ageless was part of National Theatre Connections Festival, 2019, what was that experience like for you as an emerging playwright?
This was huge. Up until this point I had a fair bit of experience seeing my work repurposed in a manner that I didn’t recognise for both stage and screen.
The National allocate a few tickets for the writers to see their plays performed across the country. One of the places I chose to see a production was Gulbenkian Youth Theatre in Canterbury. It was the most conscientious rendering of my work I had seen at that point. I could see that the director had broken everything down to the young cast so that every intended emotion was played. It was massive for my confidence in understanding that with the right collaboration or in the right hands, not just could my work be well interpreted, it could be elevated.
That play has had productions in Australia, Dubai and Russia, which again created a further excitement in knowing that I had communicated some kind of universal truth; albeit on a very small scale.

What more could be done to continue opening up creative spaces to new and emerging voices in theatre?
This is an increasingly difficult question given the perilous economic climate. Everything has a broader cost implication. However, theatre as a medium runs the risk of becoming obsolete if it doesn’t incorporate new views and perspectives. A question I’ve been asking myself and writer friends around my age in their late 30’s is if they were in their early twenties coming up, would they turn their hand to dramatic writing or would they take the path of say Gary’s Economics or Ash Sarkar. Essentially, would they choose an option where they are able to present their perspective and world view with little to no overhead, reacting to modern events in real time. The beauty of dramatic writing is or should be that it exists in a more nuanced space than that straight to camera paradigm. But are audiences still seeking that from their art or politics? I don’t know.
The paradox has been that as theatre became more diverse, it created a market where more people had a debut play but are less likely to have a follow up. Whereas in times previous, a smaller coterie of writers were able to fortify longer careers by having several plays that didn’t necessarily have to be huge successes every time for theatres to retain faith in the author.
I think one solution is things like the Open Submission Festival. Essentially, lower stakes opportunities to showcase new work. Another idea could be producing more one act plays. An evening of three one act plays could be sold by placing new work by an established writer in the middle of work by two newer writers. That way there is a pull for the audience who might want to see a short thing by say David Hare, and it gives the newer voices a chance to be in rehearsal room and hone their craft by seeing their work in front of an audience. It removes the do or die pressure that comes with a full-play commission but means by the time the writer does get their big piece on, they are quite seasoned. It could also alleviate the retention problem that comes after the debut, because writers could write a shorter thing or a few shorter things to maintain that relationship with writing for stage.
Do you recall the first piece of theatre you saw that gave you the bug?
I didn’t grow up going to the theatre. I came into theatre mostly through reading play texts as a tool to improve my dramatic writing. I would say now that my favourite writers are more likely to come from the stage than any other medium. Arthur Miller’s Plays: Volume 1 is a collection I returned to many times, long before I ever saw any staging of his work. Jerusalem may have been the first modern play I saw that felt as rich as the authors I had come to through reading. I’ve seen a few productions over the years that have given me that same feeling and it’s really quite transcendent. It reduces me to a childlike state.
What where the biggest challenges you faced writing Working Men?
Time.
I was working in social housing as a Quantity Surveyor from 8-4, so there was great difficulty in finding pockets of time to write it properly. I did a lot of reading around the subject at first. I’m not sure how much of that was procrastination, or because I wanted to understand what I was writing about in its entirety. To me it wasn’t enough to have grown up on a council estate or even to be working in that field. I read Estates: An intimate history by Lynsey Hanley, Municipal Dreams by John Broughton and Council Housing and Culture by Alison Ravetz. They provided me with a historical context.
There was an internal conflict when it came to writing the characters. I was aware that there was a more palatable version of the play, but it wouldn’t have been truly reflective of what I was hearing and seeing while working on site. I knew the truth would be knottier and wouldn’t necessarily chime with what I perceived to be the current trends of theatre. Still, I had to go in that direction for the better of the play and just hope that someone understood what I meant.
"I always want to make the strongest thing and not necessarily the most enjoyable thing."
Your debut short film Claudia has had an amazing festival run, what was this experience been like and do you have plans for more short films in the future?
The world of independent filmmaking is punishing and gruelling. It requires a lot of energy. Even with all the stress and wahala, I recognised the beauty in making something that had so few barriers between what was in my head and what we made. It was the first time I directed and even with the smallest shoe string budget I was so proud of the film.
I want to direct as much as I can in the future. We’re already planning a new short and I’ve done the early story outline and storyboard for a potential feature.
And finally, what would you hope your audiences will take away from Working Men?
It’s telling that I had never really given this much thought. You can tie yourself in knots with audience response. I always want to make the strongest thing and not necessarily the most enjoyable thing. Sure, this isn’t mutually exclusive but I try not to make concessions in a pre-emptive way.
I hope they’re challenged, antagonised, angered and maybe leave with an understanding of something that they didn’t have before.