We Live in Cairo Off-Broadway Reviews

Design alone does not a musical make, and piddly details like book and score must be taken into account. There is no questioning the Lazours’ passion for the project, which has been in the works for a decade and premiered at American Repertory Theater, in Massachusetts, in 2019 — the album “Flap My Wings (Songs from We Live in Cairo)” was recorded remotely with various singers the following year. But the characters are never convincingly defined, except for Fadwa, who also benefits from Tarabzouni’s fiery performance.

As insightfully disturbing as We Live in Cairo reportedly was when first produced at the American Repertory Theater in Cambridge in 2019, it might be even more painfully disturbing when considered as a preview of coming attractions were the United States to become an authoritarian country any time soon. Is this on the Lazours’ minds? It would be difficult to believe it isn’t, more’s the worry.

“We Live in Cairo” itself doesn’t seem to have an end – or, rather, it has several. Most of Act 3 feels unnecessary. Despite this misstep, there is great value in the deep dive into Egyptian history and politics. The specific arguments among the characters are often, in effect, resonant debates over the limits and requirements of democracy.

As with many a project that’s been in development for over a decade, especially a new musical from new writers, you can sense the Lazours’ mad rush to get everything they want onto the page initially, as well as the toothiness that sets in after too many rounds of workshops and revisions (We Live in Cairo was at ART back in 2019 and has moved through a bevy of other developmental programs). Their book, in the first act, strains as it gets these characters on their feet while also offering the audience a primer on 2010s Egyptian politics; often, they default to rote exposition, which Magar has the actors deliver dutifully. We’re told the differences between the characters’ backgrounds and political stances — the two brothers are Coptic Christians, the others are generally secular Muslims, and Karim befriends an acolyte, Hassan (Drew Elhamalawy), whose family members are Muslim Brotherhood — in bursts of dialogue where you might hope for the tension to lie in action or music. The songs, some of which made it onto an album released during the pandemic, contain real highs, like an a cappella number that introduces the second act, though there are also darlings that express a feeling well but don’t service the drama in situ.

If a musical about bohemian artist characters with revolutionary ideals who believe their art will bring about change sounds familiar, it might be because New York Theatre Workshop’s 1996 smash Rent plays with the same themes. But unlike the La bohème-inspired artists of Jonathan Larson’s magnum opus, the college-age Egyptians here have something tangible to rebel against. And that is both downfall and saving grace of this meandering, frustrating, messy, and sometimes great musical.

We Live in Cairo’s evocative music, complete with an all-Arab band and distinct Arabic instruments like the oud, gives it the wings to fly. The cast, all powerful vocalists, make the words of the soundtrack resonate throughout the theater as they experience hope, love, and loss. Sweeping anthems such as “Genealogy of Revolution” and “Tahrir Is Now” to the sweet, more personal “Movement” or “Living Here” make these six fictional students as real as the events of the revolution itself. Timeless and beyond any single movement, We Live in Cairo is a tribute to the lives of people who fight for the greater good, no matter the cost.