London play charts real-life drama of ‘Jungle’ migrant camp
London play charts real-life drama of ‘Jungle’ migrant camp
More than a year since police swept through the squalid camp near the port of Calais, clearing out an estimated 7,000 migrants, the ordeal is captured vividly in “The Jungle” playing to sell-out crowds at the Young Vic theater.
The play is the creation of two writers who set up their own theater amid the chaos in Calais, with casts including migrant actors.
“We ended up wanting to chart the creation of that society and then the destruction, or downfall, of that society,” playwright Joe Murphy told AFP.
Murphy and fellow writer Joe Robertson, both 27, set up the Good Chance Theatre in September 2015 at the heart of the Jungle, their actors performing under a second-hand geodesic dome tent.
Three of the migrants who acted in Calais are now performing in “The Jungle,” which lays bare the precarious and dangerous times faced by those searching desperately for a passage to Britain.
Episodes in which characters race off to try their luck — seeking their “good chance” in Jungle lingo — on the roads toward the port bring tears to patrons’ eyes.
A total of 33 migrants died in the Calais area in 2015 and 2016, mostly being hit by vehicles as they tried to climb into lorries, or by trains about to pass through the Channel Tunnel.
The camp was widely seen as a result of a controversial 2003 accord that effectively moved Britain’s border with France to the French side of the Channel, creating a magnet for migrants fleeing war and poverty in the Middle East, Africa and Asia.
The play’s scenes of despair are punctuated by music and laughter, as different nationalities try to live together and naive British volunteers turn up with breakfast cereal and good intentions.
“We have tried to be as honest as possible about the role we played and the role that the volunteers played in Calais,” Robertson said.
“We’ve tried to be really critical at times of the impact individuals have when they try and help.”
The play’s narrator is Ammar Hajj Ahmad, himself a refugee from Syria, who did not pass through Calais and sees his role as creating empathy.
“It’s my task to invite people to strip with me, to really be vulnerable, whether we cry or we don’t cry, to look people in the eye and say, ‘now you know’,” he said.
The desire to understand what happened across the Channel is a main draw of the show, which closes on Tuesday, before the playwrights move on to their next project.
Later this month Good Chance Paris will open in the northern Porte de la Chapelle area, bringing the dome tent used in Calais to the French capital.
“We will be a theater that welcomes people of all backgrounds, who’ve been in the city and were born there and lived there all their lives, and those that arrived there the day before,” Murphy said.
Under the stewardship of Good Chance’s French executive producer Claire Bejanin and in collaboration with the charity Emmaus Solidarite, the creative arts space will have an initial 10-week run.
Murphy said he wanted to bring together people from a wide political spectrum — “people who are very skeptical, or angry, or scared, or feel very strongly about the issue.”
Although the Calais camp has long since closed, its legacy is expected to last, and the playwrights plan to take their theater to Athens, whose government continues to grapple with a relentless migrant crisis.
For Murphy, art is the ideal means to stimulate dialogue between sometimes very different groups of people.
“Art is disarming, it’s generous, it’s gentle, but it’s kind of dangerously explorative at the same time. And that’s the context and the theater that we want to create.”
Cirque du Soleil in Saudi Arabia: The perfect tribute to a rich culture
- Crique du Soleil created a spectacular show in Riyadh
- They paid tribute to Saudi culture and heritage
RIYADH: The circus — a place that is almost synonymous with joy and delight. Since time immemorial, circuses have been places of celebration and glee, and few as much as the premier name in the industry: Cirque du Soleil.
The show has had a devoted fan in me since 2006, when I attended a performance of their production “Quidam” and my definition of the word “circus” was turned upside-down. Their unique approach to art, performance, costumes and music has secured their status as a household name and a benchmark for all other circus shows to be measured against.
On Sunday night, Saudi Arabia’s National Day, the circus brought their incredible acrobatics to Riyadh’s King Fahad Stadium and it turned out to be a night to remember.
Prior to the event, Cirque’s Vice President of Creation Daniel Fortin offered little in the way of spoilers but hinted that we would see something the likes of which we never had before. With the promises of exclusive new acts, music, costumes and stage tricks piquing my excitement, I joined a throng of green-and white-clad spectators flooding the stadium. Performing to a sold-out crowd, the show kicked off at exactly 8.30 p.m. and the magic truly began.
Barely five minutes into the show, something stole over me as I settled into the rhythm of the music, something I saw flickering over the faces of those in the crowd around me: Recognition. We were seeing ourselves, our identity, echoed back at us, but with a twist. We saw ourselves through someone else’s eyes — someone respectful and admiring.
As a Saudi youth today, it has become an unfortunately common occurrence to face negativity from various outsiders, born of ignorance or fear. It has become dreary and repetitive to have to continually defend my people and my culture from those who have no wish to understand us.
But at this show? I saw my country once more through the eyes of an outsider, but this time, it was different. I saw my culture and my heritage lauded, celebrated, delicately fused with that tangible Cirque du Soleil flair. The attention to detail was careful, almost loving, but also daring and outlandish. It was a glorious fusion of classic Saudi aesthetics with the ethereal, bizarre beauty of Cirque du Soleil.
The symbolism was not always obvious, sometimes it was subtle, constrained to the beat of a drum or hidden in a snatch of song. Other times, it was blatant and bold, in the sloping hump of an elegantly clumsy camel costume, or the billowing of the Bedouin Big Top in the gentle breeze. And yet, unmistakeably, I felt the Saudi influences in every note of the performance. It felt like an homage, and yet it did nothing to diminish its own identity. It remained unquestionably a Cirque du Soleil performance, only below the usual circus frippery, there was a ribbon of something else that lay coiled beneath the surface. Something bright, vibrant green. Saudi green.
The spectacle rounded off with an astonishing display of fireworks, so plentiful that for a moment, the sky glowed bright as day. To me, each one felt like a promise fulfilled. A dream achieved. A miracle witnessed. Here, on my own home soil, it was the perfect tribute to a rich and vivid culture.