Omar And Dawn

James Elazzi’s Omar And Dawn is full of heart and hurt - and unexpected collisions of Australian stories. It’s a play that will go beyond this stage. 

Theatre companies Apocalypse, Green Door, and Bakehouse conspire to bring Elazzi’s script to the stage, and it’s done with great passion and great finesse. Omar (Antony Makhlouf), a first-generation Lebanese Muslim Australian, is in the foster care system, unable to find home or hope. Dawn (Maggie Blinco) is an 80-year-old carer. Her experience challenges Omar’s readiness to push her away. Meanwhile, Omar’s best friend, Ahmed (Mansoor Noor), has been kicked out of his home for being gay. He lives under a bridge as a homeless sex-worker, yet insists on his own independence and the potential for his homophobic father to forgive him and welcome him back in. Dawn’s younger brother (Lex Marinos) wants his ageing sister to stop fostering and look after herself. 

Omar And Dawn is a reaction to supreme alienation. We see people of different walks yearning for help, crying out for a little bit of heart, and not knowing from where they might find it. At the same time, there are coming-of-age elements. Australia 2019 isn’t the world of Michael Gow's over-egged Away. Young Australians are reaching maturity in intersections of racial prejudice, diverse sexualities, and fragmented families.

Dino Dimitriadis (whose direction of Angels In America earlier this year at the Old Fitz was crucial to continued work on LGBT theatre) turns Elazzi’s words into tangible goings-on. Entirely different worlds, like Dawn’s apartment and Ahmed’s bridge, are made to co-exist. Each of the characters holds a presence, running parallel as contemporary Australians yet remaining independent. Such successful nuance leaves its impact. We see that the lives of all these people, while unimaginable for some of us, are happening right now, with us, while we strut and fret our own little lives with our own warm wash. 

The ensemble is pretty stupendous. Blinco is a revelation; she is the heart that we all wish more people could have. Her performance is a gift. Makhlouf’s performance might seem abrasive at first until we realise that it’s an unusual character to see on stage, and once the audience jumps that hurdle, they see an actor doing some exciting, difficult work. This is an unexpected treat. Noor is consistent and sharp throughout his challenging character. Marinos avoids the trap of cliched performance and gives our feelings a good belting. 

If you miss Omar And Dawn, you’ve missed the opportunity down the track to say, “I saw that in 2019 - before it was famous.”