‘The Kite Runner’ a gripping memory play & epic

‘THE KITE RUNNER’: Amir Arison. Photo: Joan Marcus.

THE KITE RUNNER
Based on Khaled Hosseini’s Novel
Adapted by Matthew Spangler
Directed by Giles Croft
Through October 30, 2022
The Hayes Theatre
240 West 44th Street
(212-239-6200), www.TheKiteRunnerBroadway.com

By David NouNou

With the exception of Tennessee Williams’ The Glass Menagerie, there are very few memory plays that come to mind. Better yet, a powerful and effective memory play that grabs you from the first scene and engulfs you with so many emotions and feelings and tugs at you way after the play is over—that being the ultimate reward in a theatrical experience—which The Kite Runner does so beautifully.

The play starts modestly with a simple backdrop scene that changes with the situations. In comes a musician (Salar Nader), playing the tabla (a pair of small drums fundamental to Hindustani music) in a pulsating rhythm, evoking various moods as the play unfolds. In walks Amir (Amir Arison), narrator and central figure. It is 2001 and he lives in the Bay Area of San Francisco now and starts his monologue and I’m paraphrasing: “There are things from your past you want to bury inside you and never want to think of them again, but there are always claws that will pull them out again.” Amir thinks back to 1975 in Kabul, Afghanistan, where he lived in an estate with his father/Baba (Faran Tahir) who is a Pashtun (upper class). Amir’s mother died during childbirth, so he lived with his Baba’s devoted manservant of 40 years Ali (Evan Zes) and his son, Hassan (Eric Sirakian). Ali and Hassan are Hazaras (lower-class descendants of Genghis Khan, Mongols who invaded the country). Amir and Hassan grew up together and were the best of friends and did everything that boys do together at that age. They lived like brothers in the household. Amir states that his first word was Baba, and Hassan’s first word was Amir. In that split second, a knife stabs the heart and the play swallows you whole.

Hassan is devoted to Amir, heart and soul. Hassan, being from a lower class and not knowing how to read or write, loved to be read to and Amir complied. They both loved to fly kites. Amir did the flying, and Hassan found and brought back the defeated kites as the spoils. They also enjoyed going to the movies together. Their favorite genre was Westerns. Hassan especially wanted to meet John Wayne because he spoke Farsi in the movie Rio Bravo. Baba had to explain to him that John Wayne didn’t really speak Farsi but was dubbed. On his 12th birthday, Hassan got a cowboy hat from Baba, starting a rift in the boys’ relationship. Amir never understood why Baba was so attentive to Hassan and so passive to him. Being a Hazara, Hassan was always picked on and beaten by the town bully, Assef (Amir Malaklou). Amir watched and never intervened but Hassan stilled loved Amir unconditionally.

On the day of the big kite fight, Amir had to prove his worth to his father by winning the kite fight by cutting them all down, and he succeeds and gets that admiration from Baba for a while. The big prize here for victory was the blue kite that belonged to Assef, and Hassan went to get it for Amir. Upon retrieving it, Hassan is accosted by Assef and his gang. After not relinquishing the kite, Hassan is brutally sodomized. While searching for Hassan, Amir witnesses the brutality and denies any knowledge of what happened to Hassan.

Through his own guilt of not coming to Hassan’s defense, Amir becomes belligerent to him and beats him up in the hope of wanting Hassan to stand up for himself and retaliate, but that doesn’t work, sending Amir further down the spiral of hating Hassan. When Amir tells his father he wants Ali and Hassan thrown out of the house, Baba goes ballistic on him and to never repeat such words. The final injustice comes on Amir’s birthday, where he gets a Rolex watch and money from his family as presents. Amir takes the watch and money and puts them under Hassan’s mattress. Amir accuses Hassan of stealing his presents; Hassan is known for his honesty, and when he is brought in front of Baba, Ali and Amir to explain, he admits he stole the presents in order to protect Amir’s standing with Baba. As Ali and Hassan prepare to leave Baba’s household, the grief for Baba is untenable, and a sobbing Baba pleads to Ali not to leave and that all is forgiven. However, Ali considers his honor and they depart. With Baba mourning this loss, Amir has to deal with his heinous guilt for the rest of his life.

Ultimately Kabul’s government monarchy is overthrown, Baba gives up his land and properties and flees to Pakistan and then America to San Francisco. He has to start all over. Amir meets Soraya (Azita Ghanizada) and marries her. All goes well, until Amir gets a phone call from Rahim Khan, (Dariush Kashani), that claw of the past resurfaces. Rahim was Baba’s former business partner from Kabul who was always fond of Amir and tells him he has to come to Kabul because Rahim Khan knows of the guilt and crimes that both he and Baba had committed to Ali and Hassan. If he ever wants peace and redemption in his life again, he has to fulfill this mission.

The immediate comparison one can reach is the biblical Cain and Abel story. However, this tale is so multifaceted, it is not only about brotherly love and hatred; it is about the sins of the father, guilt, jealousy, pride, friendship, devotion, class distinctions, a country’s religious sects and conflicts, salvation, humanity, faith and ultimately redemption. Seldom have so many issues been captured in a theatre piece in a single show and done with such conviction and passion.

The problems that arise in this New York version vs. the 2017 London production are the performances. In London, actors from the Middle East, Central Asia and Southeast Asia have much more visibility and chances to perfect their craft than their American counterparts. London theatre has a larger pool of multiethnic creativity (Bollywood musicals, etc.), more productions featuring non-Western culture,  and more multiethnic actors to choose from to create an ideal cast. Unfortunately, in the USA the pool is much smaller and fewer multiethnic actors get the chance to appear on the New York stage. The major disconnect here is Amir Arison playing Amir. Being the central character who narrates the proceedings, starting as an adult in California, then going backward in time to the 12-year-old Afghani boy that he was, Mr. Arison never gets in touch with that boy and comes across as an American adult feigning an Afghani child and accent.  In contrast, Eric Sirakian as Hassan gives a heartfelt and gut-wrenching performance.

Giles Croft, the director, working with such a complicated story, makes the scenes flow easily but it is some of the performances that lack stage experience that gives an unevenness to the proceedings. The minimal sets just add to and heighten the imagination of what we are witnessing.

Overlooking the acting shortcomings, ultimately the show expresses guilt, hope, salvation, humanity and redemption in the most profound of ways that ultimately touches everyone. It is the sort of riveting and extremely cathartic drama that we rarely see on Broadway.

Edited by Scott Harrah
Published July 25, 2022
Reviewed at July 24, 2022 press performance.

‘THE KITE RUNNER’: Amir Arison & Eric Sirakian. Photo: Joan Marcus.

‘THE KITE RUNNER’: (left to right) Faran Tahir, Beejan Land, Amir Arison, Danish Farooqui, Azita Ghanizada, Amir Malaklou, & Houshang Touzie. Photo: Joan Marcus.

‘THE KITE RUNNER’: Faran Tahir & Dariush Kashani. Photo: Joan Marcus

‘THE KITE RUNNER’: Azita Ghanizada, Amir Arison, Eric Sirakian & Houshang Touzie. Photo: Joan Marcus.