The Stage

Welcome to Ramallah

Published Tuesday 30 September 2008 at 10:20 by Dominic Martin

The Israeli-Palestinian conflict is hardly an untouched subject in fringe theatre, yet there are always personal stories to tell and new ears, not necessarily fully aware of the situation, to be informed. In that sense, this is a worthwhile educational exercise. Ultimately, one cannot help but feel the message is more sympathetic to the Palestinian cause, yet the script is also mindful to present opinions from both sides of the check point.

Nat (Lolly Susi) visits her younger sister Mara, a British Jew who has chosen to live in the West Bank and experience at first-hand the difficulties facing the displaced populace. Mara has become romantically involved with a local Palestinian Daoud (Christopher Simon) and invites him and his elder relative Salim to meet her less than impressed sister.

Nat’s image of Israel consists of rose-tinted childhood memories, seemingly caring little for the plight of Arab refugees who once lived there. Shuna Snow’s Mara has a plan - to open her sister’s eyes to the harsh realities of life on the other side of the wall. The idyllic village the two women visited as children is the same village that John Moraitis’ Salim grew up in, before being forcibly removed. As awkward discussions develop, a darker secret is later uncovered as the unlikely four unravel their contrasting pasts.

The irony the production attempts to highlight is the way that Jewish displacement from Europe ultimately led to the displacement of Palestinians from their own land. It raises, but does not always convincingly deal with, uncomfortable questions about whether present generations should be expected to apologise for the actions of earlier ones.

Under the direction of Sue Lefton, the cast of four successfully dramatise the uneasy scenario in which people of wildly contrasting opinions try to maintain a sense of polite and hospitable decorum. The Arcola’s tiny Studio 2 provides an appropriately cramped setting to evoke the stifling atmosphere of Mara’s claustrophobic flat. Emma Laxton’s evocative sound design features the alarming clamour of nearby helicopters and automatic gunfire, while Jenny Cane’s lighting cleverly juxtaposes both the flash of an army searchlight and the flash of a holiday camera inside the apartment.

This is a play that some may see as a fair reflection of the situation, others as a skewed polemic that in the end forces rather contrived begging for forgiveness from two of its characters, but either way, it raises debate as it intended.