Baba @ Amphibian Stage
Photos by Evan Michael Woods
—Jan Farrington
“Mashi habibti, mashi habibti.” With these words of comfort (“Okay, sweetheart, okay….”) a young father tries to comfort his restless, tired five-year-old daughter. His name is Mohammed; hers is Layla. They laugh and play together. She draws him pictures as they wait (again) in the endless line for her American passport. Neither knows that their futures are about to change.
Denmo Ibrahim’s Baba at Amphibian Stage is likely to leave you in a welter of emotions: happiness, indignation, empathy, tension, hope. We feel the frustration of missed connections and lost time—the anxiety of wondering if things can come right again. This is a tender, often comic, and intensely felt father-daughter story, told by one of them at a time: what he experiences in 1982, and she years later.
Mohammad is an Egyptian citizen who has worked in New York for several years. He’s booked tickets for himself and Layla to visit the family in Cairo. Layla was born in NYC, and her American passport is a big deal, a “golden ticket” to opportunities and rights for this beloved child. Mohammad’s been told it’s ready, but somehow it never is—and Layla can’t fly to Cairo without it. And there are other complications.
A parent and child, in a long line. We know how that feels—and wonder if we’d behave as well as Mohammed. He’s a charmer: patient, kind, and inventive with Layla, finding all sorts of ways to pass the time; friendly and helpful with the others in line. He is also (up to a point) calm and diplomatic with the authorities; they are represented by the flickering coming from a black light well above the stage, and by the small buzzy sounds of…voices? (Lighting design is by Eric Watkins, and sound by Patrick Emile).
Ahmad Kamal as Mohammed (he’s an Egyptian actor based in Washington D.C.), gives a performance so engaging and heartfelt that we warm ourselves at his humor, and are shaken by his growing desperation. American playwright Ibrahim, herself of Egyptian descent, has crafted a memorable portrait, and director Hamid Dehghani creates a space for us all to see one another: audience, characters, actors.
As daughter Layla, Dallas-born actor Savannah Yasmine Elayyach says she grew up surrounded by Arabic culture and language—filtered through family history in both Lebanon and Brazil. “I’ve been acting for 15 years,” she told interviewer Alyssa Peters of Amphibian, “and this is my first show where I’ve been able to play somebody who is Arab….It’s a milestone.”
We recognize Layla, from the minute we meet her onstage, as her father’s daughter: the same sociable streak, the same sharing of life stories with everyone around. She is a painter (remember the childhood drawings?), about to board a Cairo-bound flight. It’s only as the flight goes on that her anxieties and traumas bubble up—especially when she opens a box of letters she should have read long ago. (Father and daughter are linked visually by the flinging of papers across the stage—in very different circumstances.) An unseen Pilot prompts her thoughts, and a changeable airplane window reflects her emotions and memories. (The fine projections throughout are by Evan Michael Woods.)
Amphibian has pulled together a great creative team that also includes scenic designer Yoon Bae, whose dark, spare set pushes our imagination, and costume designer Shahrzad Mazaheri. Her thoughtful outfitting of Mohammed and Layla feels absolutely right: this is what they would wear.
Playwright Ibrahim notes that Baba is not about politics, though inevitably politics weaves its way in—most simply, in our awareness of how fear-mongering and stereotypes have led many Americans to view Muslims and Arabs differently. Putting a “face” (or two) in front of the stereotypes is vital artistic work, and Baba—warm, funny, sad, wishful, and true to life—is a gift.
WHEN: Through May 7
WHERE: 120 South Main Street, Fort Worth
WEB: amphibianstage.com
