Ari Freed (Ilan Galkoff) strolls down the side aisle of the Marylebone Theatre and casually addresses us as though we were friends. He’s cheerful, endearing, even amusing, and pleased to see us. He’s also surprised at the number of people who have turned up—and welcomes us to his funeral.
An uneasy blend of theatrical styles.
The drape over two versatile benches creates the image of a coffin, separating Mrs Freed, his mother (Clara Francis), at one end from his father, Dr Freed (Ben Caplan), at the other—positions symbolic of the distance between them in their marriage. Behind the lectern stands Rabbi Lev (Andrew Paul), who tries to be all things to all people. Ariel’s prominent bar mitzvah photograph cues a re-enactment of the tearful events of his coming-of-age celebration, unveiling the misery that has dominated his life and his awareness of the devastating effect that revealing his sexuality will have on his family. As the characters come to life, we move into an uneasy blend of theatrical styles.
His controlling father, who has espoused Orthodox Judaism with dogmatic fervour, disowns him, while his mother, burdened with Ari’s eleven siblings, becomes complicit through her helplessness. Yet in a play that is overwritten, her part feels underwritten.
For those who have been through the process of coming out to intolerant parents, especially within a strict religious family, there may well be identification with Ari and a setting that resonates, **** confirmed by a young man I met after the performance who was moved by the story and recognised many of the struggles portrayed.
As a piece of theatre, however, it is less rewarding. The number of scenes necessitates frequent reorganising of David Shields’ basic and necessarily versatile set, while Nic Farman’s ever-changing lights respond accordingly. Just in case we are unclear about Ari’s real-life situation, a play within the play is constructed, based on the Jewish parable of the Prince and the Turkey (gobble, gobble). This unnecessary and laboured pantomime-style intrusion is such a blatant allegory that it feels like an insult to the audience’s intelligence. The notorious 'clobber' passage from Leviticus 20 is recited to justify the homophobia that Ari suffers, a reminder that those obsessed with power and control are always happy to quote words that suit their agenda while ignoring their meaning in context. We also have the AIDS crisis thrown in for good measure, along with a sexual twist to Dr Freed’s story.
Many of the scenes seem contrived, and it is left to Yiftach Mizrahi, as the confidante Sammy Stein and ‘daddy’ figure in Ari’s life, to bring some reality, humanity, and credibility to the story. Between them, they save the day.
