Karim

James Elazzi sets this play in a small town that set designer James Browne creates with symbolic telegraph poles and wires, corrugated iron and spindly bush. It looks a bit run down and neglected but seems to wrap around those who live there, keeping them close. On a rise above the railway line, teenagers Karim and Beth watch the trains pass and fantasise about the people they see through the window. It’s just a game, but their fantasies cover thwarted dreams and disillusion.

Karim (Youssef Sabet) lives with his father Joe (Andrew Cutcliffe). They work together, picking and sorting Lebanese cucumbers by day and searching through rubbish at night for things that can be repaired and sold to help pay the bills. Joe is upbeat, satisfied with his lot. Karim would have liked to go on with his studies, but he’s an only son, and Joe makes him feel needed … until Karim meets gentle, retired Lebanese musician Abdul (George Kanaan) who teaches him to play the oud, an old Middle Eastern instrument, and ignites different emotions and ambitions.

Beth (Alex Malone) lives with her mother Kaye (Jane Phegan),a drug addict whose mood changes and wily deviousness keep Beth tightly tethered. Kaye uses a form of coercive control, playing on Beth’s conscience, so that even when she tries to leave, guilt pulls her back.

Elazzi tells their stories in economic, down-to-earth dialogue – in keeping with the background he has devised for them and the push and pull of their relationships that are established and developed in short scenes carefully directed by Elazzi himself with the support and experience of his perceptive co-director and dramaturg Shane Anthony.

They manage the many scenes and scene changes with clear, sharp blocking and carefully planned choreography that is an integral part of the action – enhanced by the cleverly devised effects of sound designer Aimée Falzon and lighting designer Frankie Clarke. In shadowy light flashing in time with beating music, the cast slide a sofa away, carry a table off or on, change chairs, remove a small prop, bring on another – and then move seamlessly into the next scene, never losing character or continuity. It is a fine example of collaborative vision and close ensemble work.

Youssef Sabet gives Karim both the restlessness of youth and the sense of responsibility typical of an only child in a single parent family. His impatience with Joe’s lack of ambition is juxtaposed with respect and love. It is not until he meets Abdul that he feels free to be himself … and accept the complications that arise and the links to his Lebanese heritage. Sabet makes Karim open, aware, curious, accepting and resilient.

Abdul is the opposite of Joe. Where Cutcliffe’s Joe is over-enthusiastic, pushy, tough, clinging to the company and support he needs from Karim, Abdul is sensitive and retiring. George Kanaan makes him gentle, understanding, reticent, but open to Karim’s youth and talent and sensual appeal. Caught between them Karim struggles to be who they want him to be and being true to himself.

Beth’s single parent family is very different, and Alex Malone finds in her the stress that comes from being constantly on edge. Caught between disrespect and a sense of loyalty and duty that Kaye plays on ruthlessly, Malone’s Beth is tense, watchful, carrying a weighty responsibility that she covers with brittle brightness when she sits with Karim watching the trains carry away her dreams.

Jane Phegan brings a different brittleness to Kaye, a brittleness based on the highs and lows of addiction and dependence on her drugs … and her daughter. She moves from loving and caring to bitter and accusative, using her own guilt and lack of control to control and hold Beth. It is not an easy role and Phelan uses the wealth of her experience to make Kaye disturbingly real.

Two different single parents; two different forms of control; two teenagers torn between what they want to be and the ties that make that seem impossible. James Elazzi tells their stories clearly and this strong cast gives his characters the depth and complexity that make them and their problems stay with you long after the stage lights come down.

Carol Wimmer

Photographer: Philip Erbacher