Pakistani entertainment just got a much-needed theatrical jolt—thanks to Monkey Business, the latest stage sensation written, directed, and led by the ever-versatile Yasir Hussain. After years of ruling TV and film, Yasir returns to his theatre roots with a laugh-out-loud farcical comedy that’s stealing hearts and shaking up the Arts Council stage in Karachi.
At a time when meaningful theatre is scarce and originality even rarer, Monkey Business arrives as a breath of fresh, funny air. With razor-sharp satire and brilliant performances, the play uses humor to cleverly reflect society’s absurdities. Set in a chaotic world of aspiring actors caught in a phishing scam, the story blends hilarious situations with biting social commentary—leaving the audience in splits, but thinking deeply.
Read more: Saba Qamar cheers on Yasir Hussain’s comedy play Monkey Business
Yasir Hussain’s direction is tight, his writing witty, and his performance as the fraudster Wasim is nothing short of iconic. Every scene hits the mark, every joke lands perfectly, and every character is crafted with purpose. The ensemble cast brings remarkable energy and chemistry to the stage, elevating Monkey Business into a theatrical triumph.
However, some criticism has emerged from purists who view Monkey Business through the lens of a narrow theatrical narrative—judging it unfairly against the legendary legacy of Anwar Maqsood. Let’s be clear: there’s no comparison. Anwar Maqsood is a living institution. Yasir isn’t trying to emulate him—nor should he. This isn’t Yasir’s comfort zone, it’s his bold attempt to revive a fading form. His return to theatre, especially with a new voice and genre, deserves recognition, not dismissal. To expect a comedic farce to mirror a political classic is to miss the point entirely.
What’s also conveniently overlooked is the audience itself. When looked at closely, the completely sold-out shows tell a story of their own. The halls are packed with people from all walks of life—corporate heads, CEOs, media professionals, and the well-read elite—bursting into laughter at every punchline. These are not casual viewers; they are thoughtful, authentic individuals who know and love good entertainment. Their response demands more justice than lazy criticism. If people of such stature and taste are enjoying it wholeheartedly, maybe it’s time to question the critique—not the content.
And as for the complaint of “below-par” jokes? Revival isn’t instant perfection. When an industry is rebuilding itself, it walks before it runs. Monkey Business might not be flawless, but it’s full of the fearless energy that growth demands. Every chuckle, every exaggerated punchline, is a step forward on the road to a more vibrant, self-sustaining theatre scene.
But this play is more than just comedy—it’s a comeback. Known for his legendary roles in Anwar Maqsood’s Pawnay 14 August and Half Plate, Yasir’s return to live theatre is a bold statement. Despite the lack of commercial support for the arts in Pakistan, he’s proving that quality theatre still has a place—and a powerful voice.
“Theatre alone isn’t financially sustainable in Pakistan,” Yasir admits, “but the love for the stage never dies.” That passion is clear in every scene of Monkey Business. It’s authentic, unapologetically entertaining, and infused with Yasir’s signature style.
Beyond the stage, Yasir is also making waves in television. His recently premiered drama Paradise, under his production banner LO IQ Films, stars his wife Iqra Aziz in a role tailor-made for her. But he’s clear about keeping their personal life off the small screen: “I don’t want to appear in lead roles with Iqra just because we’re married. Her talent deserves better than that.”
In Monkey Business, Yasir Hussain reminds us why theatre matters. It entertains, enlightens, and evolves with the times. Bold, brilliant, and bursting with originality, this play is a must-watch for anyone craving quality storytelling with a comical twist.
So if you’re in Karachi, Lahore, or Islamabad—grab your tickets now. Monkey Business isn’t just a play. It’s a movement.
And maybe, just maybe, it’s time we support artists not for what they’ve done before—but for the courage it takes to try something new, loud, and real.
