“The specific difficulties of each language leaves distinct traces in the brain. So, we are not the same if we learn to speak one language, or if we then learn another.” – Alfred Anwander, neuroscientist
“You lit a fuse and now I’m ticking away / Like a bomb, yeah, baby” – Ricky Martin, She Bangs
*
In a classroom
in Karaj, Iran. Four students gather to study in an effort to pass the TOEFL:
test of English as a Foreign Language. They are at different points of their journey.
Goli seems to have a good grasp – or at least she’s got confidence. Elham is
much less confident, because as we discover later – she’s attempted this test
more than once. Omid seems to know a lot more – and he’s picked up an American
accent from somewhere. Roya is older, a grandmother, hoping to learn enough
English so she can join her son and grandchild in Canada.
Sanaz
Toossi’s Pulitzer Prize-winning play, English, has a very simple premise
and the early scenes are definitely what you’d expect from the set-up. The
students struggle with their accents and with sticking to the one rule of the
classroom: English Only. They aren’t clear on the nuances of the language and
there’s some humour in their misunderstanding of Ricky Martin’s accent and his
assumed heterosexuality.
But as the
play unfolds and we get to know the teacher and her students better – their motivations
for learning English and the possibility of leaving Iran, we can see their
struggles in a much clearer light. Early on, Goli describes this new language
as rice – sitting on the surface of the water. She can recite the words, but it’s
hard for her to translate on the fly. And she’s having trouble describing anything
deeper.
These
characters aren’t all learning by rote, thankfully. There are a couple of scenes where
they throw a ball between each other, naming different items of clothing or
things you might find in a kitchen. This feels like a game suited to a language
class or a rehearsal room. And it seems fitting – these characters are
performing a new language for each other. Trying to entertain their classmates and
changing, ever so slightly, to make these new words work for them.
There’s an
interesting theatrical conceit built into the text, too. Nearly the whole play
is presented in English, with hardly any Farsi spoken. But the actors perform heavily-accented
English when they are trying out this new language and speak in a broad Australian
accent when they are speaking in their mother tongue. The actors are nimble in
shifting between the two, a real feat I didn’t appreciate until after the show
was over. But it’s also never confusing; we’re in good hands with this cast.
Director Tasnim
Hossain guides the whole production with thoughtfulness and care. Though she
found this script when googling comedies, there is a real shift for each
character late in the piece, when they start to describe how learning English
has changed them. Some of them are struggling with how much effort they have to
put in, not just to learn a new way of communication, but adapting to think in
that language.
Toossi’s
script is striking in the levels it is working at, exposing how difficult it is
for Iranians under pressure to change themselves in order to forge a new life. It’s not just about learning English, it’s about changing how they articulate their thoughts and feelings. How they are perceived and, even, how they are named.
Kat Chan’s
set and costumes are naturalistic, complemented by Paul Lim’s lighting which
grounds us in a classroom lit by fluorescent lights and sunshine. His work also
helps to elicit the passage of time, as we skip from scene to scene over the days
and weeks of their classes.
Osamah Sami’s
Omid is the class clown – especially when he slips into the broad American
accent, but he brings a vulnerability to the character, when we learn his real
history with the language. Salme Geransar takes charge as the teacher, who
lived in England for nine years and is back in Iran helping to impart her knowledge
to a next generation who might never get the chance to leave the country. Maia Abbas’ Elham struggles
the most, but Abbas takes us through a fascinating transformation from angry
young student to the more level-headed woman she becomes.
The ninety-minute play flies by and exposes fascinating details in these characters’ lives. The idea that they must think differently, but also might act differently because of how they are forced to reckon with a new way of expressing themselves. Their native tongue is comforting to them, they can be more calm when speaking Farsi. When they are conversing in English, it is often fraught, and they are exhausted by having to remake themselves for the West.
This is an exquisite production, full of humour and heart, trading in some pretty universal ideas, while opening up a whole new world to us.
English is a simple story, made up of small
moments that say a lot. And if learning a new language can change our brains,
maybe this play can re-write how we interact with people who have struggled and
strived to communicate with us, when we native English speakers haven’t changed ourselves that much to include them.
- Keith Gow, Theatre First
English runs at the Melbourne Theatre Company until August 29
Photos: Pia Johnson
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