I wouldn't pretend to fully understand this Iranian play written and directed by Amir Reza Koohestani. Not because it is played in Farsi, with English surtitles, but because it is puzzlingly structured. But what moved me was its portrait of the grit, faith and dedication of two "illegal travellers" determined to reach England. It's a play that turns asylum seekers from cold statistics into human beings.
It starts with a series of dream-like monologues about drowning. Gradually, we realise this refers to the capsizing of a boat carrying 15 illegal Iranian travellers from Bosnia to Croatia. And the dream-like mood is sustained when the mother of the hero, Imour, rises from a water tank to describe how she was impregnated by a river; since the myth of a virgin birth is later repeated, I assume that Koohestani is suggesting that it underlies Islam as well as Christianity.
But the play really gets under way when we see Imour, by now working in a cafe on the Croatian-Slovenian border, helping a pregnant Iranian woman escape to the west. They trek arduously across mountains, make it to the Milan-Paris express and end up in a refugee camp in Calais. Imour is determined to brave the Channel alone on a home-made boat. But a bond has grown up between him and the girl.
What is impressive is how much Koohestani leaves unsaid. He doesn't need to spell out the oppressive religious conservatism that drives young Iranians to escape. Even the growing tenderness between Imour and his fellow traveller is Brechtianly conveyed through actions rather than words. Behind the play lurks a quasi-incestuous reverence for motherhood that may puzzle western spectators. But it is performed by Hassan Madjooni and Shiva Fallahi in a cool, unemphatic style that is deeply affecting; their near-love scene in a Calais detention centre is a high point. And, even if the play is awkwardly constructed, it reminds us that England is still a demi-paradise for those fleeing fundamentalism.
·: Until July 23. Box office: 020-7565 5000.
