Good Muslim Boy

A portion of Osamah Sami’s 2015 memoir Good Muslim Boy has previously been adapted into the successful movie Ali’s Wedding; now this play adaptation takes another part of the book, perhaps the most moving sequence of events in it, the sudden death of his cleric father while on a pilgrimage to Iran and his efforts to bring the body back to Australia against insurmountable obstacles. Sami’s family, while Muslim, is far from ordinary with a mother who is a rabid AFL supporter and a father a highly respected cleric within the Melbourne faith community, but also a father who supports his son’s career as a writer and performer.

Dad can see his son is struggling with his life, wants to help him, so suggests a trip back to his homeland might be the answer. Sami reluctantly goes along, but when the trip turns into a nightmare Sami has to call on all his resources and even his father’s faith to pull through. It’s a tender and sincere story, told in broad brush strokes, and made even more personable because the protagonist plays himself.

In some ways it’s like a docu-drama onstage. As he discovers, an expatriate finding his way in his homeland is not easy despite speaking the language. Bureaucratic brick walls hinder his mission every step of the way in his quest to bring the body back before his visa expires. It develops as a race-against-time scenario in a fast-paced production by co-author and director Janice Muller.

Romanie Harper’s set, which becomes at times an airport lounge, passport office, bus station, morgue, and Embassy, worked brilliantly, as did Ben Hughes’ lighting and Phil Slade’s sound.

Rodney Afif and Nicole Nabout were constantly changing roles and gender in a series of well-defined vignettes. Afif was a particularly empathetic father, and showed his comic chops as a drug-pushing taxi-driver, whilst Nabout seamlessly switched between obsessed footy supporter and gun-wielding soldier.

Reliving a harrowing part of your life on stage every night is not an easy call, so top marks to Sami who delivers his text with humour and heart.

Peter Pinne

Photographer: Tim Grey.