Rarely does a piece of theatre come along that accomplishes so much.
First off, of course, The Last 15 Seconds represents an hour and more of compelling theatre, exploring as it does the odd parallels in two lives that meet only as they are ending in an act of desperate and futile defiance.
But that is, as they say, merely the tip of the iceberg, for along the way, this production from Kitchener-Waterloo’s MT Space, currently playing on the mainstage of Theatre Passe Muraille, also does a pretty good job of putting paid to the notion that Toronto sits at the very centre of Ontario’s theatrical universe — the spot from which all theatrical light flows. This is a production of which any city could be justifiably proud and, not entirely coincidentally one suspects, a production that even the most rabid critics of taxpayer contributions to the arts would have difficulty marginalizing.
The subject here could be considered controversial in some circles — a fictionalized recounting of a 2005 suicide bombing that took place in Amman, Jordan, in which Syrian-American filmmaker Mustapha Akkad and his daughter were killed at her wedding when an embittered Iranian youth, one Rawad Jassem Mohammad Abed, detonated the explosives he was wearing. Horrific as it was, the carnage could have been far worse had the explosives Abed had fastened to his young wife, who accompanied him, also been detonated.
Directed by Majdi Bou-Matar and co-created by Trevor Copp, Anne-Marie Donovan, Nada Homsi, Gary Kirkham, Pam Patel and Alan K. Sapp, The Last 15 Seconds traces the lives of both men from their youth, even though it begins at their end.
As played by Sapp, Akkad’s tale begins when he leaves his native Syria and heads for the U.S.A, where he develops an obsession with filmmaking, using the money he makes from his successful Halloween horror franchise to make films about Islam and Middle Eastern history in an attempt to bridge the gap between the Western and Islamic worlds.
For Abed, (played by Copp) life isn’t nearly so simple. Raised by his mother and his doting grandmother, he first runs afoul of dictator Saddam Hussein, and subsequently the forces that topple him, growing increasingly desperate as his world and his options seem to grow ever smaller.
Meanwhile the three women in the cast each do double duty, Donavan playing both Akkad’s wife and Abed’s mother, Hunmsi, Akkad’s mother and Abed’s grandmother and the hauntingly beautiful Patel, Akkad’s daughter and Abed’s young wife.
Though flashbacks and imagined encounters between the two men, they find the common ground in their lives, both of whom, in an odd way, use violence to achieve their dreams and end up as part of a shared and tragic nightmare instead. There is something oddly touching and infinitely chilling in the fictionalized scene where Akkad directs Abed in his suicide tape that underscores the pain and the passion that has driven both men to their ill-fated meeting.
Sheree Tams has created both set and costumes that serve the story with breathtaking simplicity and efficiency, while Rob Ring’s videos, Jennifer Jimenez’s lighting and Nick Storring’s music — a haunting mix of western opera and middle eastern ululation — make major contributions as well.
But in the end, it is the almost ferocious commitment and the skill these five performers bring to the a project that involves every aspect of theatre and movement, masterfully shaped and channelled by Bou-Mater’s confident and assured direction, that impresses.
That they deplore the violence that ends the lives of their protagonists is beyond doubt, but that they have been unstinting in exploring the vulnerability and pain that shaped it is equally clear. In a world where we are quick to demonize, they have taken the time to humanize instead and thereby have moved us closer to understanding, if only by a single step.
And by such small steps, one suspects, great bridges can be built.
john.coulbourn@sunmedia.ca
