Broadcasting: Arun Blair-Mangat

Jamaican and Indian writer-performer Arun Blair-Mangat talks about his relationship with the American dream, resilience and re-framing indecisiveness as a superpower.

Sometimes you meet people and, within just a few minutes, you know you’re kindred spirits. It runs deeper than shared interests or values; it’s the feeling that your paths have crossed in a past life. It’s the coolest experience and one that happens rarely, especially not on zoom. This being the exception. I’ve only spoken to Arun three times - him in sunny LA and me in not-so-sunny Hackney (although the last few weeks would beg to differ). Every conversation leaves me feeling energised, enlightened and totally understood. Arun is sunshine personified. Talented, eloquent and radiating a positivity that could easily feel toxic yet, coming from him, never does.

Arun starred in the original West End cast of Kinky Boots and took to the stage as May in Max Martin’s iconic musical & Juliet. On screen, he’s written six episodes of Hulu’s Spellbound and has projects in development both in the UK and across the pond. He’s also a graduate of LSE and, as will become apparent through his brilliant answers to my questions, is very intelligent.

Most of the people I interview are UK based, so we tend to have a similar perspective on the TV industry. I think a lot of us look to Hollywood as more progressive and less risk-averse. As a Brit who is now living in LA, I’m especially interested in your take; has that been your experience?

I was reading the interview you did with Youssef Kerkour, and I think he hit the nail on the head when he said that what comes out of the US in terms of film and TV is more progressive than the UK, despite the sheer level of segregation that exists within American society. I think that’s very true. My friendship group in London is much more diverse than it is in LA. I remember developing a show with this gorgeous, vibrant cast of characters from all around the world and these American producers were like, “Arun, no friendship circle in LA actually looks like that!”. But I guess the important thing is that it doesn’t stop the US from showing those stories on screen. Whereas in the UK, it’s almost the opposite. A lot of friendship groups do look like that but those experiences get totally whitewashed on screen.

There’s an antiquated way of doing things in the UK that I think holds the TV and film industry back. I think there is an openness here, which is why British artists come to LA and find success. There’s definitely more agency here. There are these hubs of creative communities that come together and feel enfranchised. I don’t think the UK is investing in the next generation of storytellers in the way it should, and that frustrates me.

Is that why you moved to the US?

I am a London boy, born and bred, but I’ve always been drawn to the notion of the American dream. This idea that if you can dream it, you can believe it. That’s the mantra my parents instilled in me and I carried that mentality with me throughout school. My mum was a teacher, so there was a real focus on the importance of education and working hard. I got straight A*s in my GCSEs, and I wanted to go straight to LA when I finished my A-Levels, but I realised that I needed a body of work to get a visa. So I signed with an agent and started acting in theatre, whilst also studying for a BA in History from LSE. I was pretty disciplined, but my focus was definitely on acting. I remember doing a season at Shakespeare’s Globe at the same time as my finals, and then graduating and going straight into Kinky Boots whilst everyone else went to Deloitte!

It was pivoting into writing as well as performing that really solidified the move to the US for me. Writing opened up a wealth of opportunities and creative connections and there are definitely more Black and brown-owned companies here that are willing to employ me. We have the likes of Issa Rae, Mindy Kaling, Ramy Youssef, Jordan Peele. I also think that being a multi-hyphenate is understood and celebrated more here than it is in the UK. I feel more comfortable saying that I am a Jamaican, Indian, Black and brown, writer and performer here, without the sense that I can’t possible be ALL of those things.

& Juliet at London’s Shaftesbury Theatre. Credit: Dan Wooller / Shutterstock

There can be the perception that being a multi-hyphenate suggests that you don’t know what you’re doing or that there’s a lack of focus, which I think is totally stifling and wrong. From a young age, I’ve felt and been told that I’m too indecisive, largely because I’ve always been interested in different things. I couldn’t decide whether I wanted a career in psychology, journalism, theatre, TV or law (the latter was firmly squashed after the most boring week of work experience in my life - sorry lawyers). Do you relate to that feeling?

So much! I’m going to bring it back to school again because I think that time of my life helps to encapsulate who I am. I did Maths, History, Art, Spanish and Dance for A levels. I never had a free period and it was because I just couldn’t choose! I wanted to perform, but I also loved history and maths, whereas other people seemed like they knew exactly what they wanted to do. There was a bit of a warning that “you don’t want to be a jack of all trades”, which I totally disagree with. I’m on this earth for a finite period of time and I want to do things I enjoy and that stimulate me. If that’s studying history and doing dance then why would I not do that? For me, that diversity feels like a superpower. To some people it might feel disjointed, but it’s made me into the colourful person I am.

I wish young people didn’t feel so much pressure to make an active choice at such a young age, one that we’re told puts you on one specific path. My friend changed his career from doctor to actor at thirty and everyone was so shocked. I think that even if he never steps on stage, the actual act of pivoting - of choosing joy over expectation - is a win in itself. Not everything has to be rewarded instantly. An amazing showrunner friend once said to me, “don’t say things are coming; say they’re here already”. I love that.

I love that too, because it reminds us that we are already on a path right now, even if we can’t see where it ends up. It’s often only in hindsight that we can recognise and appreciate certain experiences, which I find really reassuring to remind myself of. You come across like a really positive person. Where do you think you get that from?

My mum. She was born in a rainforest in East Jamaica and moved to Bristol when she was five. She was the only black woman in her primary school. She went to university in London where she met my sensitive, sweet dad at a jazz bar in 1977. It’s not lost on me that they are my heroes. They’re why I’m such a romantic and an optimist. My grandad was the same. I remember playing with him on his farm in Jamaica and he was always singing and whistling. I think that sense of play fed into my mother and trickled down to me. I love that I am like that. I think there’s more good than bad in the world. Of course, I get down and feel frustrated about things, but I try not to dwell in that feeling. I remind myself of the joy in making mistakes. Picking yourself back up again after stumbling is a triumph. It takes so much strength and resilience to do that.

We’re so lucky that we get to feel so much. It’s what drives me to create. To explore the spectrum of experience and emotion. We want to be shocked out of the mundanity of everyday life. Storytelling is ingrained in human DNA. The best way to escape real life is through films, music, books, art, TV. I remember watching films like The Land Before Time, ET and Jurassic Park and feeling like I’d been transported out of my body. Even something like Wicked - that is just one big, beautiful fairytale. I haven’t travelled out of the US that much recently, so I like to write things that make me feel like I am on holiday!

Arun and his mother

I was looking at the stories I used to write when I was younger and I felt quite sad reading them because all of the characters are called names like Emma, Sarah or Hannah. None of them reflected me or my family. I’m wondering if that was similar for you?

Actually no. I wrote a story when I was ten about a brown fairy! And I wrote a musical when I was fifteen about me and my friends. Because there was so much diversity within my group, it meant that the characters were like that too. But I was lucky in that I always had a good relationship with my ethnicity from a young age. I knew I was Jamaican and Punjabi and I was proud of that. Interestingly, it was when I first started writing for TV that I found myself shying away from that and dulling myself down a bit. Being bisexual, Black and Asian, sometimes I do feel like I am ticking a box. I was on a pitching call recently where I was pulled up on my use of the word ‘othered’. They said it might make the Execs feel uncomfortable because it insinuates that they othered me. That’s a pretty strange place to be in.

For me, it’s about being intentional and finding a tribe where I am celebrated and elevated as opposed to tolerated. Living in West Hollywood has definitely helped with that in terms of my sexuality, because there’s a huge queer community here. I’ve always been enamoured with girls. I remember having a girlfriend in reception and we’d drop our pencils under the table and kiss! It was around thirteen that I remember thinking boys were cute, and then when I started modelling at eighteen I thought they were hot. My sexuality is ever evolving. My last partner was a Southern Kentucky boy, but then I had a dream about marrying a South Asian woman recently, which my mum was very happy about!

When you look back at your younger self, is there anything you’d say to that person?

I think I’d tell myself that rejection in our industry isn’t personal. I had a blog that got two million hits and I closed it in 2012, right before everything took off. So maybe I’d also tell myself to stick with that! I’d say don’t be as sociable. Show up for yourself first. I’d tell myself to chill because we don’t know what’s around the corner. I used to get really impatient and frustrated, but now I think that’s exciting. I’m excited about the future. I’m writing a really sexy, salacious prestige procedural at the moment that I’m loving, as well as a queer romcom. I also run these monthly writers’ rooms at Soho House which are really fulfilling. As humans, I don’t think we’re meant to stagnate, so I try to play outside of form. If something starts to feel mundane, I change the way I’m doing it. I find that very powerful.

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