- Actor, playwright, and StageLight&Magic and StageFright&Panic Founder and Director Feroze Kamardeen on getting very personal in his recently performed monologue ‘Grow Up, Nana!’
He was never known to mince words, but, they were minced and spat out with great humour. And, in this instance, the truth, which nearly always hits home, certainly hit home hard. His brand of satire is courageous, to say the least. A genius playwright, a magnificent actor, and a bona fide director, Feroze Kamardeen has been in the Sri Lankan theatre for three decades or more. With over 40 plays under his belt, including the political satire Puswedilla, the stand up comedy series Freddy, and four musicals – Julius Caesar – The Musical being the last – after a 15-year acting hiatus, Kamardeen returned to the stage in full force with a one man show, which he wrote and acted: Grow Up, Nana!. In that two-hour monologue, for which he got a well deserved standing ovation, his points of focus were very personal, but, his ability to look inwards and touch subjects that are taboo with everyone else is a talent that only he has. And, he does it with aplomb. Immediately after his sold out shows, Kamardeen joined Kaleidoscope to discuss and review the feedback, the personal reasons behind the monologue, and what the future holds.
Following are excerpts from the interview:
What compelled you to look at and reflect on your community at this point in time?
I’ve been writing this play in various forms for quite some time. I’ve been discussing it with some of my friends for about five years or more, but, I started writing this about two years ago. I wanted to do a piece that was essentially focused on the community, and obviously, I have the ability, being a Sri Lankan Muslim, to write about my own community. The only reason I did the play at this time was because it was ready to be performed. There was no macro-economic or social reason to do it now. It was actually ready in April, but, we had to hold back because of Julius Caesar – The Musical. We just had to pick out a few dates. I had a fascinating conversation with my team, where I had to explain the reasons that I wanted to do this. Believe it or not, they made it difficult for me. Just because I wrote the play didn’t mean that they gave me immediate clearance to act it. I had to go through an incredibly tough audition process before they decided that I was worthy enough to get on stage and perform.
You’ve looked at your community very deeply and widely; what are some revelations that you came across while doing your research?
First of all, I was blessed with incredible audiences for all the three shows. At no point did I feel that I had to work to get their attention, because they were so focused on me and on the stage. There was but one instance where someone’s cell phone went off during the play and it was hushed up so quickly that my front of house didn’t even have the time to react to it. One of the things that I found out about my community was how they hand out watalappam, generally on Eid. I asked all my Muslim friends and family about the lists of names that they have for watalappam distribution. The other question I asked was, “Does anyone have any Muslims on the list?”. It turned out that nobody did. My list didn’t have any Muslims either. I realised then that the watalappam treat is something we essentially share only with our immediate family and our non-Muslim friends.
You brought up Gaza. What’s different about Gaza to what has been happening around the world at other times?
The Russia-Ukraine war was provoked. It’s a geopolitical struggle between Russia and the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation and whatever Russia does in Ukraine has been condemned. The international community has called out Russian President Vladimir Putin’s actions in this regard. But, when it comes to Gaza, I’m not siding with Hamas at all as they are terrorists. The general consensus is that the Gazans elected Hamas. Yes they did but that was in 2006 when 51% of the population comprised children. It’s been 17 years since they had an election. Do the math. How can the Gazans have voted for Hamas when for 17 years they haven’t been able to vote? To say that Hamas represents the people of Gaza is similar to stating that the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam represented the Tamil people. It is the brutality of what’s happening in Gaza, the deliberate targeting of refugee centres, the killing of children, and the wiping out entire families of Muslims that we must be aware of. Do you know how hard it is to kill off an entire Muslim family? We have so many children, cousins, second cousins, etc., because we don’t call them extended family – everyone is family. If you were to look at the audience that we had at the Lionel Wendt Art Centre Theatre and pick out a Muslim person and if I were to have a conversation with them alongside two elders from each of our families, I guarantee that we would have found a connection then and there. So, that is the extent of the killing. In Gaza, many of those extended families don’t exist anymore. They’re wiping out entire lineages of families. The double faced response and hypocrisy of the United Nations, the United States, and the West are completely exhausting. This is what’s really compelling about Gaza. A 100 years from now, they’ll be apologising for Gaza, the same way they apologise for Vietnam and for slavery. They will apologise, but, only in 100 years.
Did you, at any point, skirt around the topic of Islamophobia?
When Muslims perform on stage, Islamophobia is what is expected, it’s par for the course. It’s similar to when a female comedian takes the stage. You expect her to “look professional” and “be like the men”. The way I see it is that any phobia can only exist if we don’t know a lot about it. Because we know a little about it, we are afraid of it. For example, if I said that “Muslims don’t cremate”, that’s the sound bite that the media wants and it’s the message that is taken home. It quickly becomes this controversy because “during Covid-19 pandemic times, when everyone else is cremating their dead, the Muslims have a problem with it”. In this show, I was lucky enough to have an audience with the patience to actually hear me out. That’s important. It’s not about sitting in that seat, it’s about hearing me out. There’s a big difference. You could either say, “no, whatever you say, I’m not changing my mind”, or say, “I’m going to hear what you have to say and decide whether it is logical and makes sense”. I was able to explain to them, beyond the sound bite, why certain things are done. So now, the statement isn’t “Muslims don’t cremate”, it is “Muslims don’t cremate and I know why”. That’s the way to combat Islamophobia, by educating and making people aware.
You’ve never shied away from calling a spade a spade; was there anything you left out, which you felt may cause too much of a stir?
We cut out bits from the play because we had to keep to time. The script was supposed to be 80 minutes, which is 4,800 seconds, 48 seconds was 1% of the script. If I was spending more than 48 seconds on anything, I was holding everything back. Originally, the script was 34 pages long, but it was cut down to 25. During the last run of the show, I actually completed the performance in one hour and 29 minutes, but with the audience’s reactions and applause added in, we touched one hour and 50 minutes in total.
What did you want your audience to take away from the show?
I wanted the non-Muslims to leave the auditorium feeling a little bit better about themselves and feeling that they know Muslims at least a little bit better, that they know what to pay attention to at a Muslim wedding and why we do certain things during funerals. I framed everything in the “display of wealth” angle, because we can all identify with that. I framed everything in that context, but, I was also able to talk about the issues that I wanted to highlight.
You’ve always trod on dangerous ground when it comes to your work; have you ever been subjected to threats?
I first directed a play in 1996 and first wrote a play in 2007 – Puswedilla. I haven’t really been subjected to threats. There was one instance, but, I’m still here, so they clearly didn’t follow through with their threat.
Looking at all the plays that you’ve written and directed, what has been the most rewarding?
I have to say that Grow Up, Nana! felt like a full circle moment. Firstly, it was directed by Sirraj Hameed and Sashane Perera, both of whom I have directed. And, it was tough because I’ve always been in a position of control and I had to cede control of the artistic direction to them, while I took on the responsibility of performance alone.
Given the response to the play, would you ever venture into the vernacular for Grow Up, Nana! ?
Unfortunately, that’s a problem because I am really scared about that. I don’t think that I have sufficient command of the Sinhala language to do it. Essentially, my brain processes everything in English. I am very fluent in Sinhala, I write quite a bit in Sinhala, and this play had some Sinhala bits as well, but, I wouldn’t feel comfortable performing it in anything other than English.
Any chance of a rerun of the play?
My producers are talking about it at the moment, so that’s a hopeful sign.
What’s up your sleeve after this?
I’m not sure, but I do know that I’m getting back to writing. We’re thinking of going into a theatre festival next year – the NOIR festival – with some original plays. Perera is also, hopefully, doing a big production next year. So, that’s a full year of theatre. Grow Up, Nana! was a fantastic endeavour and we’ll all be growing up in the year to come, hopefully.
(The writer is the host, director, and co-producer of the weekly digital programme ‘Kaleidoscope with Savithri Rodrigo’ which can be viewed on YouTube, Facebook, Instagram, and LinkedIn. She has over three decades of experience in print, electronic, and social media)