The Confidence of Others

REVIEW: Language Rooms

by Mark Cofta

James Haskins

A greater awareness of the struggles of Arab-Americans is an unintended, but much overdue, benefit of post-9/11 rumination. Egyptian-born American Yussef El Guindi's new play Language Rooms — like his Jihad Jones and the Kalashnikov Babes, premièred last season by InterAct Theatre Co. — explores the challenges that Arab natives face here, and our ongoing "war on terror," with humor.

At the Wilma Theater, Language Rooms feels incomplete: Some scenes seem unnecessary, and the characters and issues walk a thin line between violence and absurdity. Luckily, director Blanka Zizka's production impresses, amplified by Ola Maslik's set and Russell Champa's sculpted lighting.

In a boxlike outline of a room, the only two Muslims working at an "undisclosed location" for an unnamed U.S. agency bicker about their uneasy camaraderie with their non-Arab co-workers. It's the government-bureaucracy version of The Office: As Ahmed (Sevan Greene) and Nasser (J. Paul Nicholas) debate the ramifications of not showering with office mates and missing a Super Bowl party, they load bizarre instruments of torture (milk, Tabasco, a dildo) into a shopping cart.

Language Rooms focuses on Ahmed: Does supervisor Kevin (Peter Jay Fernandez) suspect him of disloyalty, even while praising his unique skill set? "You worm yourself into the confidence of others," he gushes, "and then betray that trust." For Ahmed, though, speaking Arabic means he's the enemy: "We are who we translate to them," he realizes.

Ahmed's politics become personal, and he must confront his past. "There's nothing like family," Kevin says reassuringly, "to help you reconnect with old shit." Like many immigrants wanting to be American, all reminders of his origins are deeply embarrassing — yet inescapable.

As Kevin, who gets all the best lines that articulate American absurdity, says, "Our default position is always to welcome newcomers ... it's what we're famous for." That Language Rooms ends not with this irony but a much more intimate yet disconnected moment seems a misstep, but El Guindi's ambitions are impressive.

Through April 4, $36-$65, Wilma Theater, 265 S. Broad St., 215-546-7824, wilmatheater.org.