A vital play at a time when theatre is on the path of self-censorship.
The world is a dark place. Every day, we seem to edge closer to the start of another global conflict. Nowhere is safe. War and destruction have become steady protagonists on our television screens, to the point where we’re growing increasingly desensitised to violence.
Performer and activist Khalid Abdalla details his journey with vibrant storytelling in a stirring solo show directed by Omar Elerian. He ties Britain’s imperialistic history with the latest attacks on Gaza, weaving through personal anecdotes of friendship and protest. It’s a vulnerable, profoundly human piece that should be mandatory viewing for lawmakers and government officials far and wide. Perhaps they’ll finally understand empathy and sympathy.
Abdalla, mostly known by the public for his role as Dodi Fayed in The Crown, retraces the origins of today’s political unrest with magnetic charisma. Activism in his blood - both his father and grandfather were anti-regime activists in Egypt. Though he was born in Scotland and brought up in London, Abdalla returned to Egypt in early 2001 during the major protests against president Mubarak. A decade later, he founded an independent filmmaking movement dedicated to the support of citizen media in Cairo. He recognises the dissonance between having to walk a red carpet while people are being bombed.
The ripple effect of rebelling against injustice is told with his own original footage in an audiovisual experience that slides into physical theatre as much as pre-recorded elements. His stories are uncensored and blunt, but the piece is dense with information and beauty. Nowhere celebrates life and it’s imbued with a frantic hope for the future. It’s an eye opener in an industry that seems to be going down the path of self-censorship.
This isn’t to say that this is just a grim reminder of the horrors that lie outside the safety of our homes; there are plenty of moments of levity and community that still matter in a profound way. Music accompanies this “anti-biography”, with two instances that involve a jolly rhythm to create a jarring contrast with the cruelty he’s showing. Abdalla maintains a friendly temperament, even at the darkest dips of his script. He employs his individual introspection to instigate social progress through his art, but this project is more than that. It’s a play of documentary value, a heart-wrenching history lesson.
As a writer, Abdalla is eloquent and empathetic. With a knack for a good turn of phrase, his text is permeated with harsh elegance and lends itself to be remarkably quotable. He uses language in all its bare grace, diving into parts of focused composition before resurfacing with a colloquial wink. Elerian directs with a delicate vision, allowing Abdalla to appear to lead his own performance on the spot. But Nowhere wouldn’t have the same resonance without the creative team behind it, who lifted the monologue combining a minimal set (Ti Green) with an evocative sound design (Panos Chountoulidis) and decisive lights (Jackie Shemesh) while videos (Sarah Readman) help us to follow Abdalla’s cross-continental quest.
We’re left with a soul full of grief for the latest bloodshed in Gaza. He puts his privilege into perspective in a stirring, arresting final speech that wraps up a plea for change. With an impassioned address, he asks himself how humanity is able to turn a blind eye to a genocide is being livestreamed daily. Where Abdalla has moved in ornate choreography (Omar Rajeh) until that moment, he stands in stillness, downstage, facing the audience with a cracked delivery. It’s impossible not to take note and listen.
Nowhere runs at Battersea Arts Centre until 19 October.
Photo credit: Helen Murray
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