Interview: Rajiv Joseph On Dakar 2000, a Spy Thriller Based on His Time in the Peace Corps

One of America’s most respected and prolific playwrights, Rajiv Joseph has earned national acclaim for such works as Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo, Paper Out of Animals, and Gruesome Playground Injuries.

His latest work, Dakar 2000, which is making its world premiere at Manhattan Theatre Club, is set in Senegal in the late 1990s, when Joseph worked there in the Peace Corps and met an older woman who changed the course of his life.

Joseph recently sat down with TheaterMania to discuss the challenges of revisiting his past and turning it into a play, why he thinks looking back at “Y2K” remains relevant, his fondness for writing two-character plays, and whether he prefers writing plays for specific actors.

This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.

This play is autobiographically based. What did you find the most difficult thing about writing it?

This play is definitely the most difficult thing I ever had to write, because it’s so personal and I had never written anything autobiographical—and I’m never doing that again. Sometimes, the less you know about what you’re writing the better. I ended up adding too many details that meant nothing to the audience. And some of the things I took out actually happened, but they felt too weird. Anyway, as we got closer to doing our first readings, I began to feel had I misrepresented myself and the Peace Corps. So, in many ways, it ended up so much further from where I started. Still, I always knew I wanted to write it through the lens of a spy thriller; that was appealing to me. But I also had to write it so the audience believes it can all be true, even if “my” character tells you not everything is true. If someone doesn’t believe something could happen, then I’m screwed.

Did you keep journals while you were in Senegal?

I wrote religiously every day. I found them last Christmas in Cleveland, brought them back to New York, and read them over the holidays. It was stunning how much of my time in Africa that I misremembered.

The play is set around Y2K, an event many of us have forgotten about, but brings back very vivid memories. Why did you want to set it then?

We’re at the 25-year mark, so I think it’s a good time to reflect about what life was like back then. It was the last year of analog technology; most of us didn’t have cell phones or email. In a way, I am happy we didn’t have that kind of connectivity. Also, we’re dealing with the last generation of Peace Corps volunteers. I don’t know even if the Peace Corps will even exist by the end of the play’s run. It’s a very scary time for everyone right now, like Y2K was, and I think everyone is feeling that.

Throughout your career, you’ve been extremely comfortable with writing two-character plays. Why does that form appeal to you?

Believe me, I don’t write them to get produced regionally, as has been proven by The North Pool. I like two-handers because they are fun and dangerous—they’re like motorcycles. It’s a thrill for actors because they never leave the stage. Three-character plays are harder because everything is implicitly unbalanced. Actually, Dakar 2000 started as a three-character play, but I changed my mind quickly. Still, I am eager to break this so-called streak; so much so that I am developing a 12-person play at Fordham. It’s called Horoscope, but I made up my own zodiac. I’m finding the experience very freeing.

Did you write Dakar 2000 specifically for Mia Barron and Abubakr Ali?

The only time I wrote a play specifically for actors was Guards at the Taj. That was very special, because I had such confidence in Omar Metwally and Arian Moayed, especially because I knew they could understand the challenges of new play development. I usually feel having actors in mind can be unhelpful at the beginning of the writing process, but it does speed things up once you have them cast. In this case, there was really no audition process. I’ve known Mia for years as a friend, so I asked her to do the first reading, and we were all set. And after I saw Abubakr in Toros (at Second Stage Uptown), I sought him out. I knew he was right for what I had written.

This is a world premiere, and as you said, it’s something of a thriller. Are you concerned about audiences “giving things away”?

It’s not that kind of play. We debated the nature of the opening monologue, and we decided that it’s up to the audience to decide what is the truth, or which character to believe. The only thing that worries me is I know I will have to sit down with my parents after they see it. Still, they will never know everything that went down in Senegal when I was there.