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Scorched succeeds as a drama exposing the human costs of Middle Eastern conflict, perhaps because Lebanese-Quebecois playwright Wajdi Mouawad avoids the thorny specifics of politics and religion in his Greek tragedy-proportioned, multigenerational story of suffering and retribution.
Wilma Theater's East Coast première of this international hit brilliantly reveals individual suffering's far-reaching effects while also telling a suspenseful story. Ariel Shafir and Leila Buck play twins Simon and Janine, informed by notary Alphonse (Benjamin Lloyd) that their late mother, Nawal, has left instructions to find their long-lost father and a brother they never knew they had. Each is deeply affected: Resentful boxer Simon violently resists excavating Nawal's past, while mournful mathematician Janine becomes obsessed. The hard-won truth shocks them, and us, but it's the journey that reveals the Middle East's mysteries.
Their mission takes the siblings back to Nawal's childhood, where forbidden love leads to a child forced into adoption, and Nawal's blasphemous desire for education. Aadya Bedi plays the fragile yet driven teenage Nawal; Jacqueline Antaramian becomes antiwar activist Nawal at age 40; and Janice Dardaris reveals her late in life, shortly before the five-year silence preceding her death. All three are utterly convincing, providing nonlinear, panoramic insight into Nawal's life in which she often crosses paths with herself.
The supporting cast in director Blanka Zizka's powerful production excels, with Omar Koury as a variety of mysterious native characters and Jolly Abraham playing Nawal's close friend, Sawda. Linda Gaboriau's translation maintains Mouawad's dark wit and savage grace, whether in Alphonse's malapropisms ("don't put the cart before the house") or a sniper's psychotic odes to his bullets.
Ola Maslik's scenic design presents a huge blank platform, keenly lit by Thom Weaver. Composer Amir ElSaffar blends jazz with traditional music hauntingly, and Jorge Cousineau's sound connects disparate scenes, as when a distracting jackhammer morphs into machine-gun fire.
Scorched's full, often harrowing three hours may test playgoers' endurance, but its multilayered story doesn't waste a moment, and helps the play transcend its unnamed location. One can't leave Scorched without wondering if its terrible events could happen in many parts of the world — even here.
Scorched | Through March 29, $39-$55, Wilma Theater, 265 S. Broad St., 215-546-7824, wilmatheater.org
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