Ash Strain
“They wanted me to have a big grand heterosexual wedding at the age of twenty-three… instead, I have an art degree.”
Like many disillusioned Gen Zers, Essa contains multitudes, swinging like a wayward pendulum from sombre introspection to ecstasy-fueled… well, ecstasy. He describes himself as ‘psycho – sorry, vinegar-soaked‘,’ oft lamenting that the umbilical cord that wrapped itself around his neck as a foetus did not finish the job when it had the opportunity, with a casual nihilism easily familiar to the youth of today. Throughout the one-hour performance, he is both sardonic and sorrowful, lovestruck and lonely, unbelonging and othered among his friends and family for his beliefs and sexuality and yet ever-tethered by an invisible thread to a country he has never truly known. It’s a captivating journey into the very core of Essa’s ever-shifting identity.
Over the course of the show, Essa guides us back and forth through the timeline of his adolescence, from the moment his Lebanese mother forces him to come out to her, to the moment she tells the family doctor – in church, no less – to volunteering to stand up and talk about The Wizard of Oz in ESL classes in Illinois in the hope of securing Korean candies, to breaking a favourite vape in an after-hours club in Milan. Each scene comes with a cast of colourful supporting characters which Rasho flicks back and forth between at a rapid pace, differentiating with distinctive physical and vocal idiosyncrasies. The most outlandish of these is, by far, Nic, Essa’s very own plush, purple Nicotine Demon.
Rasho is an engaging and compelling performer, able to hold our interest and sympathy without reliance on elaborate prop or costume use. His self-penned script veers between vivid verse, rich with metaphor, to rapid-fire colloquialisms, and Rasho commands each with ease. Despite the geographical and cultural differences in our upbringings – Essa grew up in Illinois, the son of Middle Eastern immigrants, while I’m a born and bred Brummie – I found it easy to connect with him, and the intimate nature of ZOO Playground 1 made the extended monologue feel like the familiar sensation of hearing a friend gossip and vent about the chaos of their life in a club bathroom or across a coffee table. I felt compelled also by the way Essa’s struggle with his sexuality is not presented as an internalised struggle to grapple with being gay, but instead hinges itself on a desperate need for the validation of others – he wants to be desired, to know that he is wanted now, as he is, before his body begins to change, to ‘fail’. He wants to be more than just a body, he tells us. His fear is not rejection, but apathy.
In Binge Fringe’s interview with Rasho, he revealed that he wrote the initial script in just three days, and had a show prepared and ready to go for performance in Chicago in just three weeks. Through various Chicago-based previews, the show has developed and changed thanks to audience feedback, but this is still a very rapid turnaround for any show, especially one for the Edinburgh Fringe. That is not at all to say that Dummy in Diaspora feels rushed or underdeveloped – it is clear Rasho knows exactly the story he is trying to tell, even if Essa isn’t quite sure where he himself stands in the narrative – however, going forward I think some attention can be paid to the pacing of the piece. At times transitions between scenes felt unceremonious or abrupt, bringing us to an emotional climax and then drawing us unceremoniously away, and the jumps between years were at times a little bit confusing to follow. The lighting and sound tech in particular, though well-designed, felt slightly under-utilised, although this was much stronger in the second half of the performance. At times I also felt as though Essa’s interactions with Nic, though comical and well-intentioned in portraying Essa’s demons and addictions, felt atonal and out of place in the wider context of the story.
The real shining moment of this show, however, is Rasho’s portrayal of Momma. In the beginning, through Essa’s fifteen-year-old eyes, we see her as we see all of our mothers at fifteen – overbearing, embarrassing, suffocating. Her knowing head tilts and stern eyebrow raises are expressions we can all recognise, and her tendency to share her child’s business with any Tom, Dick, or family doctor who will listen is a universal quality among mothers from Beirut to the Borders. Her mere existence is a constant source of embarrassment to Essa as he transitions into adulthood. And yet there is an immense kindness in the way Rasho plays Momma. She is universally recognisable but never veers into the stereotypical, and it is clear Rasho loves her in every second of his portrayal and in every moment in which she and Essa interact.
One moment that struck me in particular is one when Momma is ill and asks for water, and Essa brings her three glasses, instead of one, just in case. Despite her misguided intentions when it comes to Essa’s sexuality, we see the deep love shared between them in these small, simple gestures, even against a backdrop of generational trauma and miscommunication. Essa is, after all, a mama’s boy – wherever she goes, he has no choice but to follow.
Dummy in Diaspora has so much potential to develop into a truly fantastic show with co-directors Rasho and Hallie Snowday at its helm. I am so glad this story has been given a well-deserved platform at the Fringe this year, and I hope it will continue to develop and return to the UK in future.
Introspective, honest, and charming – Esho Rasho is definitely a writer to watch.
Recommended Drink: Chai, as recommended by Momma herself – spicy, flavourful, and sure to leave you thinking of home.
Catch Dummy in Diaspora at Zoo Playground – Playground 1 until August 25th (not the 19th) from 11:30. Tickets are available through the EdFringe Box Office.
Jake Mace
Phoebe Bakker
