By Fareeda Ahmed
October 5, 2009
The Context - A Long Time Coming
“When those two towers fell...we fell with them.”
Salman ("The Dad") remarks with a trembling voice to his wife Khulsoom ("The Mom") in Wajahat Ali’s groundbreaking new (to New York) play, The Domestic Crusaders.
References to 9/11 in a play that purposefully opened on 9/11, and has received a disproportionate amount of press because of 9/11- are more than sparse: That line is the only one that references 9/11 in the entire play. And indirectly, at that. Just one of a few surprises in this determined-to-not-be-cliche show. While certain facets of the play have been “done” before - the immigrant story, the post-9/11 politics, the generation gap - never have they been so successfully combined. I’m sure I’m not alone in wondering - where has this show been?
Ali’s play has received generous press due to the fact that it showcases a Muslim-American family of six in post-9/11 America (it’s not clear which year after 2001 serves as the setting; an omission Ali counts as deliberate).
The play attempts to illustrate myriad intersections on the map of human experience: male/female, Muslim/non-Muslim, black/brown, American/desi/American-ized, Hyderabadi/Punjabi, middle-child/youngest/eldest, suburban/urban, innocent/complicit, desperate/hopeful, peaceful/violent, capitalistic/socialistic...the list goes on.
While to some the themes that weave the storyline may seem cluttered or out-of-scope, as a Pakistani-American/lifetime New Yorker, I can assure you: cut any comparable Pakistani-American household in half, and these vast arteries of human experience are exactly the bundle of cross-sections that will bleed: the gender, religion, ethnicity (even down to the village or tribal level), nationality, age...throw in marital status and history of heart disease and you’ve pretty much covered every facet of human life.
And that is exactly why Ali’s ambitious play is surprisingly successful: Ali does not avoid any of these threads, but weaves each of them seamlessly into the story, revealing just a string here or there for the audience to take note of and pull on. The multi-layered experience of such a “niche” community is the opposite of esoteric; it is universally accessible, because it is human. Such explains the reaction from non-desi, non-Muslim audience members that Producer Ishmael Reed has noted is even more fervent than the reactions of those “from the community.”
Ali notes that different people always see different things in the play - it’s all about the immigrant experience, or it’s all about family, or it’s all about the ghosts of history revisited on our present circumstances. When discussing this particular “tower” line of the play, Ali remarks that some take it to mean: after 9/11 the Pakistani or Muslim community fell as a whole. Funny, since he says he meant it as “when those two towers fell, we as parents lost our ability to protect our children from the pressures and dangers of life in this country.” The ghost of 9/11 looms large - and Ali tastefully refers to it in no other place than here - and he doesn’t need to. This is the bringing out of the dead. The comeuppance. The settling of accounts. And as the venom of 9/11 stings out of the scars that this play opens (gently, palatably, and with a good dose of humor) - one can’t help feeling a rush of relief that finally, this story has come out; finally someone has spoken for us, finally, “they” know how “we” feel.
The Performance - Don’t Blame the Recipe if the Cake Gets Burnt
Speaking with Ali - a tall, quietly passionate, precise man, whose focus on his work still burns in his astute eyes hours after the play has ended - one gets the sense that each word, each pause, each slip of the tongue has been painstakingly and elegantly plotted, like a musician mapping out an orchestra. As he reviews his own play, like a film director playing back a scene over and over, Ali refers to his actors almost as instruments; this one with this pitch, that one with that timbre, the other with a unique tone. The play is clearly his symphony. Whether or not that comes across to the audience in the delivery is another story.
On this particular night, there are parts of the play that don’t sit right, lines that seem odd, exchanges that seem forced or one-note- Ali is the first to call out these shortcomings, promising that some piece of the performance was “off” in his refreshingly (if overly) self-critical view; at first, I wonder if he is being sarcastic or “witty;” my first question: “So how did you feel about the performance tonight.” His first answer: “It wasn’t that good.” I chortled, thinking this was a joke, a fake-y “oh it was so terrible,” to break the ice. It wasn’t. He continued on, dissecting dispassionately each aspect of the performance. Rather than this seeming an excuse - that the performance was off so don’t judge the production - it truly seems a proper explanation. Don’t blame the recipe if the cake got burnt; and the cake was hardly burnt; it was browned in spots, maybe, but on its fundamentals (if we dare use the word) it holds all the promise of a something new, and something worthwhile.
Even with a slightly off performance, there were laugh- and cry-out-loud moments. Whatever the nuances on this particular performance, it’s enjoyable, and, given its subject matter, grossly overdue; as one audience member put it afterwards: “I had a feeling something like this would come along. I’ve been waiting to watch a show like this.”
The Bottom Line: See it. And Let’s Get on to the Next Milestone.
All in all - It’s a good show. But more importantly, it’s a necessary milestone in chronicling and giving a voice to a marginalized group of likewise 9/11 victims - the Muslim Americans. With this due paid, we have no doubt that a new play that features Muslims or Muslim Americans will not have to speak so much about how “Muslim” they are. The self-consciousness of the play is not to be criticized; rather, it is an accurate reflection of the self-consciousness of the entire Muslim-American community after 9/11.
Perhaps with the passage of this show, we venture forth into new territory, where the art we produce may be free from self-consciousness, because we, as a community, will no longer be so concerned about “what it means to be Muslim.” Then, maybe, 9/11 - which I often forget was actually just a single day - will be over.
===========================
Scene and Heard: Audience Soundbites
By Ramadan Affan
October 5, 2009
Last Thursday’s showing of Wajahat Ali’s “Domestic Crusaders,” was a huge success, resulting in a standing ovation from the audience. One of the most notable reactions surprisingly came from the non-South Asian portion of the audience, who laughed and applauded even more frequently than the desi crowd throughout the performance. Of course, one of the best markers of a play’s success is the feedback from the audience. Here are some sound-bites of reactions heard around the room after the performance.
Kamran Khan, who plays Salahuddin [Sal], said: “I hope anyone who comes to the show that isn’t South Asian realizes that we have issues just like everyone else.”
Audience member, Fatima Ahmed, commented, “It touched upon all the cliches.”
“Exactly what happens in my parents’ house,” Tayyaba Ahmed stated.
“Very witty and fun,” said Omara Afzal.
No comments have been posted yet.