Reviewed at Leeds Playhouse by Michelle Rawlins
Following the success of Christy Lefteri’s international bestseller, The Beekeeper of Aleppo, this incredibly powerful story of human strength and unimaginable resilience, has now been adapted for the stage by Nesrin Alrefaai and Matthew Spangler.
And they’ve done a highly commendable job.
Inspired by the author’s two summers working in a refugee camp, in Athens we follow Nuri and his wife, Afra, who are forced to make the near impossible journey from Syria to England under the most horrendous of conditions.
The script moves across time, as the psychologically traumatised beekeeper recalls the tranquillity of his former life, with his cousin, Mustafa, before war broke out. Then on to the heart wrenching moments when he is left with no choice but to embark upon a perilous escape route. It’s one that will leave him, and Afra, played beautifully by Roxy Faridany, irrevocably scarred.
The Beekeeper’s Memories
Directed by Olivier Award winning Miranda Cromwell, scenes jump between Nuri’s harrowing memories of their desperate journey to how they find refuge in Athens, surrounded by countless other homeless and disregarded migrants where Afra is heinously abused by a drugs runner. Then on to the patronising treatment at the hands of their case worker once they land on UK soil.
An overwhelming sense of loss and destitution is ever present as both beekeeper Nuri (Alfred Clay) and Afra’s battle against their own inner torment. Afra is so grief stricken she loses her sight and forms a barrier of detachment from the world that’s treated her family so unforgivably cruelly.
The couple desperately want to help each other. But the gut-wrenching trauma, which lays heavy on their shoulders, also eats away at the intimate and natural closeness they had once shared. This is cleverly amplified by Tingying Dong’s exemplary sound design, which allows Afra’s inner voice to be heard.
The simple, yet clever set of The Beekeeper of Aleppo intrinsically switches from the once peaceful home of Nuri’s cousin, who taught him ‘wherever there are bees, there is life’. Then on to the torturous recollections of the sea crossing in a lifeboat. And next onto the overcrowded bedsit where those claiming asylum are forced to try and adjust to a country which couldn’t be more hostile and unwelcoming if it tried.
Additional visuals come in the form of video footage of war-torn Syria projected onto the set. They’re a grounding reminder of the reality of a country being ripped apart. These work better than some of the other special effects, which are designed to support the sea crossing, but feel a little over-produced.
There are moments when the acting feels a little jarring. The off-putting case worker feels too staged in her condescending manner. As does the doctor’s patronising receptionist and the home office official who quite depressingly asks ‘Can you sing your national anthem without words?’ But these are minor niggles, which can just about be forgiven, due to the fact it’s probably a fairly accurate representation of how appallingly refugees are often treated.
All that said, what prevails throughout this raw and emotionally charged performance is the fundamental reminder of what so many displaced people are having to endure around the world. Uprooted from their homes and left at the mercy of the rest of world, a mixture of kindness and generosity is all too often infused with ignorance and hatred.
The Beekeeper of Aleppo is touring until July 1
Tickets here