Darkness overshadows the stage. Vague human shapes carrying unidentifiable forms. The scene unveils as they move closer to the audience. They are moving corpses!!
That was the opening of the play “The Other Door” performed by actors from The Saudi Arabian Society of Arts and Culture in Jeddah. The three-act play can be interpreted in different ways; its major theme, however, is the suffering of the people worldwide. The play was chosen by the Ministry of Culture and Communication to represent Saudi Arabian drama at The Saudi Cultural Days in Tunisia two months ago. It has also participated in a number of festivals abroad. The Society of Arts and Culture presented “The Other Door” at the Damascus Twelfth International Theater Festival, and the Cairo Experimental Theatrical festival. It was recently shown on Saudi Channel One two weeks ago.
The play deals with three nameless characters locked in a deserted place by some unnamed authority. The Iraqi writer, Amir Al-Hasnawi, does not use such words as “cell” or “prison” — in fact, the prisoners constantly refer to the place as “here.” This emphasis on that word was done with a purpose. Hasnawi meant to stress how the cruelty of the place confused them and made them unable to distinguish between the real and the imaginary. Nor do the prisoners name those responsible for their imprisonment; they are referred to only as “them.” The only clear reference that they are in a prison is made when they talk about the guard on the other side of the door.
The scrappy, arbitrary dialogue presents us the picture in quick, sharp strokes. The complete dimensions of those inside it provides us with vivid insights into the characters’ miserable lives and chaotic thoughts, their anxieties, hopes and shattered dreams. Gradually these fragments, like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, form a vividly dramatic picture of a tyrannical society that perpetrates all sorts of humiliations and torture on its own citizens.
As the play begins, the audience sees the indistinct shadowy forms that are getting rid of the unnamed dead bodies. The story behind the three unnamed characters, locked and long forgotten for no particular reason, is delivered indirectly to the viewers.
The first act begins with two characters bidding farewell to the third man who was with them. He has, for some unknown reason, been released and the two call him “The Departing.” Doubts and suspicions about their friend’s release after all these years emerge from their conversation. Though it is obvious from the beginning — and becomes clearer later — that Character One holds a more optimistic view than the ever-pessimistic Character Two.
“The Departing” is eager to get out of the cell but he is frustrated by absolutely no response from the guard. No matter how polite, angry, furious or submissive his tone is, the guard does not answer. Nothing but silence from the “rough, thick door” as Character Two describes it.
“They must have given you a copy of the release order,” “The Departing” says to the guard. His soliloquy on stage, addressing the absent guard whose presence dominates despite his physical absence, is moving. By the end of the play, though, we have never seen the guard’s face. Throughout Character One advises “The Departing” “Beg of him; they like that.” “The Departing” follows his friend’s advice but there is only stony silence from the guard.
The stories of the three characters are revealed by their desperate requests to the guard. Character One is puzzled and lacks a clear picture for the reasons behind his imprisonment. Through his narration we find out that he was an ordinary man — “I was once walking in the path of life and the road swallowed me suddenly,” Character One relates.
Character Two, the most pessimistic, presents a different story that has been retold in many parts of the Arab world about being imprisoned for speaking out. He tells us that he was in a huge hall, with other people, just like him, seeking knowledge. Later, a devious-looking man came up to him and they shook hands. Character Two felt uncomfortable about the man. He turned from his friends to speak to the man for a minute. That minute became the rest of his life. As soon as the two men left the hall, Character Two was seized by an iron hand. Imprisoned for an unspecified length of time, he feels that his “body has decayed here.”
The only one of the characters with any tangible hope for the future is “The Departing”. Different incidents reveal to us that he has spent less time in prison than the other two. That is evident from the bag that he was carrying when he was imprisoned. In his speeches to the guard, “The Departing” tells the guard that he was about to travel before when he was brought to this dreadful place. He is also the only one who is still clinging to his past life. He asks the guard to see his broken razor, the ticket that he never used, yellowish papers on which he was supposed to record events from his trip and, most important of all, a photo of his beloved. “ We could’ve had kids, a house and tranquil evenings. We could’ve looked at shooting stars as they fall. Our lives have ended for no reason; we are as innocent as the snow, the sand and the grass.”
Act One ends with the prisoners losing their tempers. “ Can’t you hear us? You are the nightmare that swallows our days,” says Character One. Then they begin shouting and screaming all together, before they collapse, one by one, on the floor.
Desperation makes “The Departing” move and jump hysterically at the beginning of Act Two. Suddenly the door opens but the prisoners hesitate to go out. It seems that the prison has got them physically and mentally paralyzed them. Character Two thinks it is just a trick when Character One says: “The open door is in my soul. I am a closed door.” “The Departing” encourages them to take heart and leave although he confesses that he too is “captured by fear, as the unknown is waiting for us behind that door.” As they finally pull themselves together and try to step out, the door rises up only to be replaced by an iron door.
Act Three exposes the two characters exhausted and beaten up with their clothes ripped and torn. As they are searching for “The Departing”, they discover that he is dead, and his body is facing the door. Lights dim gradually until the stage is in total darkness.
The Iraqi playwright, Al-Hasnawi, has found an excellent way of portraying human agonies that are everywhere in the world. His play, however, symbolizes more particularly the Arab world.
The director, Othman Falatah, who also played “The Departing”, chose to present the play in what is called theater-in-the-round, in which there are no clear boundaries between audience and actors. The audience is virtually on stage and the actors perform in and around audience. “I wanted to engage with the audience so people get involved in this psychological drama,” Falatah explained.
To present this drama skillfully, Falatah opted for extreme simplicity in his set-design. At the far right of the stage are two metal cages, one on top of the other. Character Two sits on the lower one while Character One sits on the upper one. In the middle of the stage is a T-shaped hanger on which clothes are carelessly draped. On the far left of the stage on a higher level is the door that is reached by tiny stairs.
Yassen Abu Al-Jadayel skillfully played Character One, who is torn between hope and despair. The absolute negative Character Two was very well depicted by actor Ahmad Al-Samman. These amateur actors who have not studied drama, enthralled the audience by their passionate performances. Their training consisted of little more than a few acting workshops run by Arab dramatists, among whom was the Iraqi dramatist Amir Al-Hasnawi. The rare notices here and abroad has brought “ The Other Door” immense success. It has also brought out a bright impression of Saudi theater at international Arabic festivals.
The success of this play and the notice by the authorities of allowing dramatists and playwrights broader parameter augurs well for Saudi drama. This expression has opened up a new door.