A modest proposal 鈥� perhaps the Belfry Theatre鈥檚 Being Here: The Refugee Project should be required viewing for Canadians bitterly lamenting COVID-19 restrictions.
Devastated about that canceled trip to Los Cabos? Consider the plight of Ghanaians who trudged to sa国际传媒 in deadly winter and lost fingers to frostbite. Upset your cocktail parties are on hold? Cast your thoughts to Alan Kurdi, the Syrian toddler who drowned during his refugee family鈥檚 desperate exodus (you may recall the terrible photographs).
These unhappy tales 鈥� and others that are variously curious, heart-warming, disturbing and life-affirming 鈥� surface in Being Here: The Refugee Project. Created by Joel Bernbaum and directed by Michael Shamata, this verbatim play, having its online world premiere this week, documents the experiences of refugees in sa国际传媒 and those who help them.
Remarkably, all dialogue is lifted directly from interviews. Not a single word was changed. With Shamata鈥檚 careful directorial assistance, Bernbaum (who interviewed 200 people from such locales as Victoria, Winnipeg, Calgary and Saskatoon) includes every hem and haw 鈥� even chuckles and coughs are meticulously retained.
This earnestly literal approach, while admirable, can be constrictive. The film eschews showy visuals 鈥� performers are typically presented against blank backgrounds, sometimes talking-head style.
Perhaps a less rigorous emphasis on journalistic verisimilitude 鈥� and more on theatrical interpretation 鈥� might had made for a more entertaining piece. The show is less engaging than Bernbaum鈥檚 verbatim work Home is a Beautiful Word, an excellent 2014 examination on homelessness in Victoria. (To be fair, it鈥檚 partly because that production was live theatre rather than online.)
That said, the seven-person cast of Being Here: The Refugee Project did a remarkable job with the daunting task of making the transcripts sing. Several sequences spring to life in a powerful manner 鈥� we forget we鈥檙e watching actors and become one with the characters and their stories.
One strength of Being Here: The Refugee Project is its determination to avoid easy answers. Take the tragic end of Alan Kurdi, which was reported internationally. In strictly dramatic terms, this story (and the tale of the death-defying Ghanaians) are among its most powerful. In this show we learn of a fascinating irony. The viral power of the Kurdi photograph led to Syrians becoming the preferred 鈥渂rand鈥� for refugee sponsors refugees. This, says one character, came at the expense of refugees from other countries.
Why is this image so potent? Simply put, many North Americans empathized with the Kurdi because he looked like our kids: fair skin, nice red T-shirt and blue shorts. 鈥漈he way the child looked 鈥� [he] looked like everybody鈥檚 child,鈥� says one character in the show. Another character, identified as a 鈥淢iddle-Eastern Canadian,鈥� wonders if a black child in rags would have the same impact.
Here and elsewhere, Bernbaum delves into hard truths behind the headlines. This, perhaps, is the most compelling aspect of Being Here: The Refugee Project. Paradoxes emerging from the refugee situation are revealed in a complex yet stark manner that sidesteps easy answers and sentimental tropes.
One sponsor from Lunenburg (portrayed deftly by Celine Stubel) is devastated when her Syrian refugee family disappoints. She鈥檚 aghast when they buy expensive cars they cannot afford and then demand financial help. They find fault with their lodgings and then complain about the toilet in their new apartment. Then the father, Ali, faces criminal charges for committing an unforgiveable act.
鈥淚t鈥檚 been a mess,鈥� says Stubel鈥檚 character. 鈥淲e felt so sick. It was just this feeling of horror.鈥�
There is, too, the moment of jarring self-awareness when the well-meaning Lunenburger recognizes something patronizing within her own attitude. She鈥檇 assumed the refugee family would reward her generosity by loving her back 鈥� a 鈥渂ad expectation.鈥� Still, she concludes, one bad apple doesn鈥檛 spoil the whole barrel, noting: 鈥淓veryone deserves lots of chances.鈥�
The notion of the Hallmark ending is similarly upturned by a Palestinian refugee (Kayvon Khoshkam) who struggles against daunting odds to immigrate to sa国际传媒. Ultimately he achieves their dream only to find he longs to return to his homeland. A brother-in-law, already living in sa国际传媒, convinced him to lie in order to gain asylum, concocting a story about being a secret spy for Israel. Khoshkam鈥檚 character went along with the ruse only to realize he could not live a lie: 鈥淚 did something horrible鈥� I felt I was completely destroyed.鈥�
Being Here: The Refugee Project concludes with the story of Seidu Mohammed and Razak Iyal (they have pseudonyms in the film), two refugees from Ghana who nearly perished in 2016. On a cold December night they waded for miles through waist-deep snow across the border from Minnesota to Manitoba.
Played with wonderful humanity and warmth by Austin Eckert and Adrian Neblett, the men narrowly avoided freezing to death. However, their frost-bitten digits 鈥� which turned hard and black 鈥� had to be amputated.
鈥淲e lost our fingers but we鈥檙e still part of society,鈥� says one hopefully. 鈥淲e can still do a lot of things.鈥�
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Being Here: The Refugee Project, commissioned by the Belfry Theatre, is the first show the company has produced since the onset of COVID-19. It鈥檚 now being streamed (tickets are $25) , with final performances Saturday and Sunday (March 20 and 21).
