Reviews

Shesh Yak

Laith Nakli scratches the surface of the intractable civil war in Syria in this two-man play.

Zarif Kabier and Laith Nakli star in Nalki's Shesh Yak, directed by Bruce McCarty, at Rattlestick Playwrights Theater.
Zarif Kabier and Laith Nakli star in Nalki's Shesh Yak, directed by Bruce McCarty, at Rattlestick Playwrights Theater.
(© Sandra Coudert)

A modest pre-war apartment occupies the stage of Rattlestick Playwrights Theater. Its Spartan furnishings (a desk, an armchair, a large hookah in the window) suggest the habitat of an immediate postgraduate, someone 22 or 23. In reality, it's the home of 35-year-old Jameel (Zarif Kabier), the somewhat-suspended protagonist of Laith Nakli's Shesh Yak. Or is he the antagonist? We're never quite sure in the Syrian-British playwright's inscrutable two-hander. It's as confusing and shrouded in doubt as the tragically protracted civil war at its center.

The story takes place in early 2011, as the popular protests now commonly known as the "Arab Spring" are sweeping across North Africa and the Middle East. Jameel is a Syrian-American writer living in New York City. He's invited Haytham (playwright Nakli) to stay with him during a trip to New York. A leader of the movement to oust Bashar al-Assad, Haytham is in the city to appear on a panel and rally support for the Free Syrian Army. Introduced through a mutual friend, the two men are ostensibly of the same mind that Syria's brutal dictator needs to go. Over cups of tea and a round of backgammon, they chat about the old country and the changes taking place there. But Jameel is acting really weird, laughing inappropriately, and suffering from dizzy spells. We get the sense that these two new friends have a much longer and more complicated history, especially as this casual visit begins to resemble a hostage situation.

The exposed brick in the back of John McDermott's set reinforces this vibe, as does Peter West's coldly dim lighting. We're definitely in a rear apartment where no one can hear you scream.

The hidden information in Nakli's script requires a skillful burlesque in which the audience only sees enough to keep us wanting more. Director Bruce McCarty is partially successful in this. Kabier is completely affected as Jameel. He clumsily paces around the room, delivering exposition through forced guffaws and panicked phone calls. It feels very much like watching a Guantanamo interrogation being run by a 10-year-old. Something is seriously wrong with this guy, but we never quite figure out what it is until the very end.

As the older and more secure Haytham, Nakli plays his cards much closer to his chest. He seems like a genuinely nice and reasonable guy, patiently attempting to talk down a maniac. He's the James Caan to Kabier's Kathy Bates in Misery. We learn his dirty little secret only after some painfully fake simulated torture (courtesy of Unkle Dave's Fight-House). Of course, confessions given under duress are rarely reliable.

By the end of this 70-minute affair, it feels like we've only witnessed the first act of a much longer play. Nakli is dancing around the edge of something profound: Shesh Yak paints a dark portrait of Assad's Syria, a heavily militarized society in which everyone is a spy, convinced that their fellow citizens are terrorists bent on mass destruction. At a certain point, this paranoia becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Still, Nakli never quite hits the nail on the head in a satisfying way.

Perhaps the play's lack of conclusion is unavoidable considering the fact that the Syria conflict is still raging nearly four years later. What started as a peaceful democratic uprising has now transformed into a proxy war between the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia (supporting some very unsavory jihadists) and the Islamic Republic of Iran (supporting Assad and his terrorist allies). ISIS occupies half of the country, enforcing its medieval Sharia. By most estimates, at least 200,000 people have died. After seeing this downer of a play, there doesn't seem to be any end in sight, and one doubts there will be anytime soon.