People of the Book
Lloyalty, truth, and politics between old acquaintances are put to the test when one publishes a war account of his time in the Middle East.
“Lust, jealousy, and personal politics” are the punches promised by the publicity tag line for award-winning playwright Yussef El Guindi’s new play People of the Book, currently on the boards at the intimately compact Urban Stages. The story centers around three high school friends, one of which has returned from the Middle East with a new bride and his newly written, soon-to-be-a-major-motion-picture celebrated book. Themes of competition, morality, and judgment are all bandied about in this ambitious play.
The early Islamic term “People of the Book” refers to “religious communities that Muslims believe follow divine revelation in the form of a book,” describing “people in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, who are all monotheistic and believe the Torah is sacred scripture” (thank you, Wikipedia). This play is by no means about anything so literal, but one can apply this definition to the characters, who are all staunchly entrenched in their own confirmation bias and barely tolerate one another’s viewpoints.
The story opens as local artist Lynn (Sarah McAfee) and her husband, the poet Amir (Ramsey Zeitouneh), are just stepping out of a book signing event being held for their newly celebrated writer friend Jason (Brian Slaten). Lynn and Amir talk a bit about their old friendship with Jason before he comes out, and they all meet at a bar for drinks, where comparisons are drawn between Lynn and Amir’s limited artistic success and Jason’s sparkling new writing career, spawned from the tell-all war story book about the celebrated rescue of his new bride, Madeeha (Haneen Arafat Murphy) whose arrival is anticipated shortly.
McAffee turns in a zesty, volatile performance as Lynn, a restless, resentful wife of the meager, judgmental poet Amir, played by Zeitouneh with boorish conviction. Staten’s portrayal of meat-and-potatoes Jason is rough and grounded, and the energy between the three provides ample spark for conflict. Murphy’s turn as Madeeha is deliberate and less dynamic, presumably an acting choice made to reflect the third-world demeanor of a subdued Middle Eastern wife with a cultural and language barrier, although the character is supposedly an English scholar so her ignorance of Jason’s frequent colloquial phrases seems conflicting.
Scenic and costume designers Gloria Nori and Elena Vannoni have created imaginative, full-sized art pieces and multi-use panels which are brilliantly employed with designers John Salutz and Kim T. Sharp’s lights and projections, respectively. The panels are wheeled about the space, front and back, denoting a variety of settings, while Salutz’s inventive lighting taps into the panels’ transparency and highlights Sharp’s projected images.
The work of veteran director John Langs is apparent; his staging amidst the set pieces and use of the space is creative and varied. He carefully creates dramatic arches between the characters, maximizing the conflict and honoring the playwright’s scripted instructions.
El Guindi’s play is meaty and contains many ingredients for a thought-provoking stew. There are plenty of character defects on hand to color the various opinions these characters put forth. There is some uncomfortableness in the play, between characters yes, but also from situations and questionable choices that don’t ring true dramatically. For example (spoilers forthcoming), according to the exposition in the first scene, the friendship between Lynn, Amir and Jason is superficial at best; the dialog reveals that Amir was annoyed by Jason in school and was mean to him, and Lynn herself says she barely knew him or was aware of his infatuation with her. Yet the couple invites Jason to stay in their home as though they have a current, deeper friendship, and the conflicts and competitions that continue to arise throughout the play between the two men seem forced for such casual relationships. At another point, both Jason and Madeeha storm out of a scene, which is dramatically feasible, but not when the scene takes place in their house, where they would certainly never leave an invited dinner guest alone.
The entire infidelity plotline seems forced for the sake of providing conflict. Jason’s life-long fantasies about Lynn just don’t ring true, nor do Lynn’s responses to his advances. Her participation in the adultery flattens her character for the audience and undercuts her contributions in later scenes with Amir. The two separate moments where kisses are exchanged would have been more than sufficient to add this layer of friction.
It is far-fetched that Madeeha’s writing style gleaned from a scant few pages of poetry can be compared to that of Jason’s entire book, thus implicating her as the true writer of the work. Her accidental, single-pronoun slip is more than enough to introduce this plot twist. Further, Lynn’s convictions in her confrontation with Amir about Jason’s declared experience in the book seem unrealistically strong given that she knows Jason’s account was not truthful.
Director Lang can accommodate for moments of questionable verisimilitude by coaching the actors to make choices that align more closely to their scripted realities. The occasions of character veracity aside, El Guindi’s play is sharp and engaging, and contains promise. The sheer heft and timeliness of the material makes for an intriguing evening of theater.
People of the Book (through November 3, 2024)
Urban Stages, 259 W. 30th Street, in Manhattan
For tickets visit http://www.urbanstages.org/peopleofthebook
Running time: one hour and 45 minutes without an intermission
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