Bush Theatre's Going Through is Grippingly Effective

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This moving story of a child migrant is eloquent in two languages, says Liz Vercoe

 

I am qualified to comment on only part of the dialogue in this moving little play, just 75 intense minutes long. Not that it matters in viewing this particular work of art, because the words I couldn't interpret made eloquent theatre in a different way.

And, anyway, making members of the audience feel at a loss only reinforces this story of what it feels like to be a young girl fleeing across borders to escape violence, control and loss of individuality.

For this is about a child, Nour, played by Charmaine Wombwell, and her protective mother figure, the non-hearing, non-vocalising Youmna, played by Nadia Nadarajah who is herself deaf.

The two are eking out an existence in some unnamed barren land where artillery fire replaces lightning flashes in the distance as Youmna's motile hands caress, reassure and tell what seem to be bedtime stories to Nour while create dancing shadows for those of us who cannot read them. Not all is mystery, for Nour often repeats out loud what her beloved Youmna has just said or an invisible hand writes across the walls, stabbing words into our eyes. In their isolation, Nour cannot understand why Youmna is so insistent she learn to speak like other children.

Written originally as 'Traversée' in French and French Sign Language by Estelle Savasta, the French was translated into English by bilingual actress Kirsten Hazel Smith. The play's director is Omar Elerian, who helped turn the play 'Misty' into such a powerful work last year. And full credit must go to designer Rajha Shakiry for the simplest set that, along with the projections by video designer Nina Dunn and lighting by Josh Pharo, takes us from a mud brick house across continents in the course of the play. This is theatre beautifully working its magic tricks. 

When the traffickers come to take Nour she must lose her female identity to survive and leave home equipped only with the wisdom of Youmna imprinted in her mind. Her journey in the talking, hearing world movingly depicts her as helpless as a message in a bottle cast into a hostile sea. And we learn much about the thoughtless processing of our fellow human beings by anyone in power. It's powerful acting by Wombwell, both funny and sad while changing her speech patterns and physically adapting from girlchild to woman via secret boy.

There is a second strand to this clever play, which is about the importance of becoming a potent woman who, as Youmna signs and based on her own experience, can have dishevelled hair and look anyone, even the men with moustaches and long beards, straight in the eye. For Nour, once a grown woman with the power to heal, this becomes walking into any police station just to ask the time of day.

Afterwards in the theatre bar hands were flying in earnest silent conversation, surely discussing the play, and I envied that so many people knew how Youmna's bedtime story played out with what appeared to be falling trees and small things of many sizes. But, as Nour says, that's a story that may not be told.

April 9, 2019