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Theatre Review: Aftermath

Aftermath

New York Theatre Workshop

Octagon Theatre

Aftermath is tightly scripted 90-minute documentary theatre based on interviews of Iraqi refugees in Jordan. Through skilful intercutting of seven stories, collected by the writer-director team of Jessica Blank and Erik Jensen, the impact of conflict on individuals emerges from the sweep of history and 24-hour news channels.

Lights come up on eight people sitting on benches with their backs to the audience. Their stillness is broken by the arrival of Shahid, a translator (Fajer Al-Kaisi) who shucks off his street shoes. His quirky sense of humour serves as a bridge between the audience and storytellers as they move forward to share their stories.

Each of the characters is introduced with light, deft strokes. Quickly we learn of the pride of pharmacist Rafiq (Ramsey Faragallah) in his former town of Falujah; the work of theatre director Assad (Rufio Lerma) and his artist wife Fadilah (Maha Chehlaoui); and the respected imam (Ted Sod).

A small artefact such as a photograph held out to us hints at the ordinariness and familiarity of these lives. Social rituals of hospitality are interwoven with wanting to keep watching the soccer match on the TV (Australia vs Iraq). This essentially tribal world and the mood of suspicion under the Saddam regime unravel into chaos as civil society crumbles.

A successful mix of comedy gives way to darker stories of betrayal and incomprehension. The imam tells of interrogation in Abu Ghraib prison. The pharmacist recounts the violent murder of his nephew. The mother shares the loss of her family and newborn child, taking off her headscarf to reveal her own scars.

These stories, drawn from actual lives, cumulatively build compelling, moving images. The performances are detailed and credible and the direction has controlled formality.

The lighting by David Lander subtly supported the stories, skilfully and precisely picking out characters, occasionally adding the barest slick of emotional colour. Similarly underplayed was the soundscape (David Robins), often nothing more than sinister overtones, low rumblings barely perceptible to the ear. The focus was on the performances of the actors and their powerfully told stories.

The almost filmic juxtapositioning of characters and stories packs a punch. There is a telling moment at the climax when the imam points to the audience and asks the interpreter: "Can you translate this for them?"

Aftermath translates those stories and does it eloquently.