The world premiere of Faygele from writer Shimmy Braun opens with something of a bombshell. Immediately breaking the fourth wall the young, up-beat and wise-cracking Ari Freed, (Ilan Galkoff) introduces himself to the audience, director Hannah Chissick having him do so from deep within the auditorium itself, and as he makes his way to the stage he warns us that the story we are about to watch will come like a punch in the gut. We certainly didn’t have to wait long to find out why either, as just as quickly we are told that the covered box on the stage is a coffin and that the funeral about to take place is his own, his life tragically brought to an end by his own hand at just eighteen years of age.

As the jewish son of Orthodox parents, he muses on the fact that there is no Yiddish word for suicide, his now wandering spirit seemingly surprised to find himself yet to make his final journey into the afterlife, but instead becomes privy to the private thoughts of his family and those closest to him as memories take him back to the pivotal moments of his life that led him to experience feelings of such undiluted despair that he could see no alternative other than to end his life. This shifting between the past and the present is not unlike the journey Dickens takes Scrooge on in A Christmas Carol, except here Ari, without a guide, neither has the luxury of seeing his future or get the option to choose a different path from the one he has led, his life having unfortunately already been played out to its increasingly inevitable end.

The title of the play is an indication of the prejudice Ari will most likely have to face throughout his short life when he discovers his sexuality, the word Faygele not only being slang for ’gay’ in Yiddish, but is often used as a replacement for the more derogatory term ‘faggot’. This is what he first finds himself being called at just 13 years old by his short tempered father (Ben Caplan) who is sent into a rage by his son’s less than ‘masculine’ demeanour during his Barmitzfah. It’s heartbreaking knowing that, from this moment forward, their relationship will remain forever broken, especially given that we are already privy to how Ari’s story ends, and indeed as Ari grows up, and his sexuality becomes clearer, so the divide between himself and his family, including his mother (Clara Francis), becomes ever greater.

It’s a risky strategy from playwright Shimmy Braun to give so much of Ari’s story arc away in the opening few scenes, but the device allows us, through Ari, to hear the unfiltered thoughts of his nearest and dearest juxta-posed with what they actually say to each other for the sake of a more palatable outward appearance. These innermost revelations are both shocking and heartbreaking in equal measure, but open up the narrative to show a family in turmoil with themselves as well as what they find themselves unable to come to terms with, the masks that they wear falling by the wayside to reveal the raw, and often uncomfortable honesty of the feelings that lay beneath. These observations also allude to each characters own troubled backstories that, running alongside Ari’s makes this a much more layered and nuanced story than at first imagined.

Beyond his mother and father we find family friend Rabbi Lev, (Andrew Paul), able to lend a more sympathetic ear to Ari’s situation, but finds that his role as mediator between parents and son can only go so far, given any advice he is able to offer is ultimately led by the religious teachings of his faith, which states a man who lies with another man will have “committed an abomination and will surely be put to death”. Whilst the Rabbi’s conflict is palpable, (a superb performance from Andrew Paul) and his willingness to try and educate himself admirable, he can ultimately do little more than “pray for kindness to endure”, and becomes just another person in Ari’s life who will eventually fail him, as does the final character in this powerful five-hander, Sammy Stein, (Yiftach Mizrahi) a forty-something Jewish gay man who has managed to reconcile his religious upbringing with his sexuality, mostly by having to turn his back on his faith. “My Jewish books are memorabilia now”, he tells Ari, and whilst he too will feel the guilt of not being able to help Ari, his is an extremely powerful monologue towards the end of the play as he calls out the Rabbi and his faith on the way both deal with matters of sexuality.

With a play that sets out to deal with such a plethora of sensitive subjects, Braun manages to find the balance in bringing just enough light to his script, matched by Hannah Chiswick’s sensitive direction, to counterbalance the brooding sense of tragic inevitability without taking away from it’s emotional core. It is however the assured performance by the perfectly cast Ilan Galkoff, (who manages to convince as both the 13 and 18 year old Ari), whose performance succeeds in navigating the wide range of emotions Ari goes through, his charm and instant likability ingratiating himself immediately with the audience which serves to make the plays finalé feel all the more tragic. There is certainly a very bright future ahead of this young actor.

Whilst the backdrop to this play is set in an Orthodox Jewish family and the timeless traditions they live their life by, it could mislead some in the audience to think that this conflict of religion, family and sexuality may all just be a thing of the past, but Braun makes it very clear that this is a story very much of our times, and that coming out is still filled with all the stigma, shame and dread felt by many that have to face it, despite how much society, Jewish or otherwise, might pat itself on the back for its modern-day progressive views, (it being worth remembering that suicide rates amongst LGBTQ+ people remain significantly higher than they do amongst the general population). It’s this element that makes Faygele a highly relatable and accessible piece off theatre as, despite being a non-jewish gay man myself, their was much in Ari’s experiences that I instantly connected with from my own life… and I clearly wasn’t the only one as after the applause died down many in the audience could be seen holding each others hands and hugging each other for comfort, clearly effected by the moving story and the power of the performances by the actors that told it.

★★★★