Review: THE VAGRANT TRILOGY at Atlas Performing Arts Center

By: Jun. 14, 2018
Enter Your Email to Unlock This Article

Plus, get the best of BroadwayWorld delivered to your inbox, and unlimited access to our editorial content across the globe.




Existing user? Just click login.

Review: THE VAGRANT TRILOGY at Atlas Performing Arts Center

If you were to describe to a person what "The Vagrant Trilogy" is about, they would assume the plays to be dark, depressing, and uncomfortable - the story focuses on a Palestinian family and their path following the events of 1948 and 1967. And yet, "The Vagrant Trilogy" also has moments of joy, pride, and love. The story extends far beyond the timeline of devastating events, and instead show us something greater: humanity.

The unique premise of Mosaic Theatre's latest feature allows the audience a greater insight than most productions. Mona Mansour's three plays - The Hour of Feeling, The Vagrant, and Urge for Going - follow the life of Adham, a bright scholar played by the fantastic Hadi Tabbal, and explore the paths his life can take when he is faced with a monumental decision while abroad in London in 1967: he can either accept a fellowship and stay in London, or follow his wife back to their families in the war-torn Middle East. The subsequent plays, The Vagrant and Urge for Going, show the audience the consequences of those decisions.

The Hour of Feeling opens with Adham on the brink of greatness. He is home celebrating his success as a star student at the University of Cairo, which has earned him an opportunity to present his work at University College London. He is young, brilliant, arrogant, and has physically situated himself in a position to look down at the party in his honor from a hill above, where he meets Abir (wonderfully portrayed by Dina Soltan), a woman from the village who is seizing her last chance to talk to him. Abir, who is intelligent in her own right, pushes back on Adham's arrogance and condescension of her "peasant" accent just enough to win him over, and the two marry in time for her to join him on his journey to London. Once there, Adham experiences his first brush with self-doubt - he worries that his intellect is only celebrated in comparison to his circumstance, and that his knowledge is behind that of "civilized" society. It is Abir who helps him regain his confidence, despite his constantly brushing her aside due to her limited English. When conflicting news reports of war between the Arabs and Israelis interrupt the post-lecture celebration, Adham is offered a fellowship opportunity that would allow him to stay in London; Abir, aghast that he is considering staying, remaining separated from their families during such a dangerous time, leaves Adham to return home.

The Vagrant, referencing the character in the Wordsworth poem at the center of Adham's work, opens in London in 1982. In this timeline, Adham has accepted the fellowship, and is working toward professorship. His work, though, is stalled, and he often seems unmoored. His ex-wife, Abir, is now engaged to a diaspora-born Palestinian advocate, Jawad (Shpend Xani), and his mother, who compartmentalized her love for her children after leaving one behind in the refugee camps and who was in turn left behind by Adham, haunts his apartment. Adham is often assigned a position or ideology about the geopolitical struggles dominating their world by his students, his peers, and even Abir; none of these assumptions are accurate, but the truth is he doesn't have any position. Instead, he chooses to remove himself, to compartmentalize as his mother did before him, and that unwillingness to take any stance leaves him empty, unable to succeed in his work, and, he fears, forgettable. As increasing tensions between the Irish and the British bleed into academic discussions, Adham finds himself facing the prospect that, no matter how he chooses to view himself, he is forever in stasis - not fully British or Palestinian, not a professor, not really anything solid.

In contrast, Urge for Going explores Adham's life if he followed Abir home. The play takes place in 2003, in a refugee camp in Lebanon, where the family moved after the 1967 war. Adham and Abir have two children, Jul (Xani) and the ambitious Jamila (Nora Archrati), who opens the play by asking her father why he didn't stay in London. We, the audience, already know how that choice plays out, but even this early into the play we know this path isn't any better. The family shares a small shack with Adham and Abir's older brothers, a cramped, run-down home that doesn't fully keep out the elements and is prone to blackouts. Jamila, who takes after her father more than she realizes, spends her time preparing for an exam that will be her ticket to university and a way out of the refugee camp; Adham, despite having encouraged her studies in the past, grows more distant and less supportive with each passing day. Like in The Vagrant, he's unmoored, stripped of his former swagger and zeal, but, unlike Abir, he doesn't seem to carry the guilt of wondering if they should have stayed - he knows his chance is gone, and he fears his daughter will miss hers as well, so much so that he can't bring himself to help her pursue it.

Such a packed, long production could easily feel overwhelming, but director Mark Wing-Davey skillfully avoids pitfalls; each play is well-paced and balanced, and it's easy to feel both frustrated with and concerned for Adham and his family. The cast is incredibly talented across the board, though Archrati's energetic Jamila, Xani's heartbreaking Jul, Soltan's beautiful Abir, and (of course) Tabbal's vibrant Adham are particular standouts. The cast's talent goes far beyond their acting and delivery skills; they also seamlessly switch from English to Arabic and occasionally to French, with an assist from Paul Deziel's wonderful projections onto Luciana Stecconi's minimalist and effective sets. The cast also doubled as the crew, and helped move the set pieces, though this did occasionally occur at a few inopportune moments. The use of Arabic helps enhance the sweet, familial moments that anchor the performance, and language itself - from examinations of the word "travesty" to the nuances of the character's identities - is a key theme for each play. Even word choice plays a vital role in discussions - as Adham notes: "We Arabs - our words are like hammers. [But] in England, one false word can expose you." In a show where those influences mesh and clash, language plays a deserved starring role.

This is particularly notable in Adham's monologues. At the end of The Vagrant, he is presenting another lecture, this time more fiercely and openly personal than the one from his moment of triumph in The Hour of Feeling. In that moment, you feel the weight of his situation so profoundly, it's spellbinding. The audience seemed to almost fall into a trance. His final monologue is almost subtle in contrast; at the end of Urge for Going, Jamila asks about his lecture in London, and he attempts to recall it. The shortened recital here is a powerful ending for the show, reminding the audience of how far away that arrogant man at the top of the hill is from the man we see in the refugee camp.

The tone for Mona Mansour's three-plays is set with two words projected onto a spinning set piece at the opening of The Hour of Feeling: "It's complicated."

It is. It's very complicated - people are complicated, politics are complicated, life is complicated. But sometimes complicated can be a beautiful thing.

"The Vagrant Trilogy" is playing at the Atlas Performing Arts Center from June 6th through July 1st. Performance time is approximately three hours and twenty minutes (three hour-long plays with two ten-minute intermissions). Select performances also feature post-show discussions.

Photo Credit: Mosaic Theater Company



Comments

To post a comment, you must register and login.

Vote Sponsor


Videos