In his namesake play, Nassim entangles the actor and playwright into one on- and off-stage character as he attempts to unify international audiences with the one thing that differs most from country to country: language. 

Borrowing the structure of a lecture on Farsi, he foregoes grammar and complex sentences, instead appealing to the pathos of his guest star and audience with short phrases such as “On the house, there was a balcony. On the balcony, there was a mother.”

Throughout the play, Nassim utters not a single word but focuses on communicating with the audience using a script, a pen, and a classroom projector. Although his interaction is purely visual, he manages to tell his story as a playwright from Iran in a deeply emotional and political fashion.

“Once upon a time, in a faraway city, there was a playwright.” This playwright dreamed of having his work played around the world, and though his country was like a net, it could not hold a breeze. So the breeze became a wind and the wind became a hurricane. Almost reminds us of another writer who “wrote [his] way out” with the force of a hurricane.

Commandeering the voice of the guest actor, who changes with each show, Nassim describes how his international acclaim drove him farther from his hometown, mother tongue, and family. The one thing he could not achieve was to have one of his plays performed in Farsi for his mom to understand. And so “the playwright was a foreigner even in his own city.”

This is when the audience realizes that this show is not merely a language or cultural lesson but a thesis on the importance of language and the pain of not being able to express yourself in your native tongue, especially when your life’s dream is built upon words and emotions.

In a tight but unrushed 75 minutes, the substantiality of this play is clear, but the substance is not. I knew I was supposed to feel something, but candidly, I think most of the audience of this play’s New York run might be too privileged to relate to having to travel abroad to achieve success.  The playwright posed a problem and neither solved it nor convinced the audience it was important enough of a problem that we should feel dedicated to finding a solution. In the end, the show at its best achieved a stunning and at times humorous wish fulfillment – to hear words of Farsi spoken on an American stage.

-Cindy