Scorched at the Tarragon
A steady stream of sand falls from the ceiling, lit by a beam of light overhead. As we sit in our chairs and wait for the story to begin, the pile of sand grows. Like the one side of an hourglass, time goes by as we wait – just as those in the story wait for the truth of time gone by.
I had wanted to see Scorched by Wajdi Mouawad when the English-language version premiered at the Tarragon Theatre in 2007. I had hear so many splendid things about the production, but never got the chance. As I sat in the Tarragon audience on Tuesday night, I understood the praise.
Scorched is a story of truth, time, history, struggle and strength. It is a story of a twin boy and girl, who are given a task at the reading of their mother’s will, which leads them to discover the horrors their mother grew up in and the strength she held to get through it all. Told through jumps between the past and the present, Scorched tells of civil war in an unnamed Middle Eastern country, the people who suffered, who tortured, who survived and who ultimately ended the silence.
Directed by Richard Rose, the honesty and belief of the cast as a collective is breathtaking. Each one supports and carries the other through the production. Janick Hebert’s eyes are piercing and full of innocence, love, pain and strength as Nawal (the twin’s mother) from age 14-19. Alon Nashman’s comedic timing, with his mixed up sayings and never ending babble, as the solicitor, is a welcome relief in the intensity. Sophie Goulet as the twin sister shows so much growth from one who only believes in the absolutes of mathematics, to one who sees the absolutes of love and family.
The set and lighting designed by Graeme S. Thomson and the costumes designed by Teresa Przybylski transport us into a land that is not our own, but could be. From the imagery of the water and blood sprayed on the wall, to the symbolism of the blue scarf, to the realism of the guns and tools of torture – it all forces us to listen to the tale.
Three hours was too long for the piece, and despite the intensely disturbing moments like delving into the insanity of the snipper as he encounters the photographer, or the beauty of young love, it did drag on slightly. And the climax was a bit too much for me. Although I might be insensitive by saying this, because I’m sure it has happened, I found it almost too melodramatic to be believable.
Despite this, Scorched has left me forever changed – a haunting image in my mind that will stay with me as I read the news of all the horrors that continue to happen around the world each day. The history, the passion, the pain and the strength are brought to life with such honesty and clarity that it forces us, we who are privileged enough to live in a country of relative peace, to look face-to-face with the atrocities of war and how far their effects reach.
But what this play and production are ultimately about is the people and their suffering and their strength to keep going when it feels like all is futile. As Wajdi Mouawad wrote in a programme note in October 2006 at Theatre du Nouveau Monde in Montreal: “what would quicken my heart would be to know that this show will remain, in your eyes, anchored above all else by poetry, detached from its political context and instead anchored in the politic of human suffering, the poetry which unites us all.”
Scorched runs at the Tarragon Theatre until June 27, 2009.
