Theatre in Review: We Live in Cairo (New York Theatre Workshop)In a season so far starved for ambitious musical theatre, We Live in Cairo is a welcome blast of excitement and intelligence. It showcases The Lazours, the two brothers responsible for the book, music, and lyrics of this rangy drama, which, aided by Taibi Magar's dynamic staging, brings to life the tumult, hope, and fury of Egypt's moment in the Arab Spring. Not only does it lucidly dramatize the transformative effect of these events on six young lives but it also dares to chronicle the revolution's aftermath when it imploded, thanks to a hundred frustrating, yet utterly human, reasons. It isn't perfect, but it has tremendous assurance: New York Theatre Workshop has done us a favor by introducing us to so much talent. Brothers Amir and Hany, who dwell at the center of a loose collection of artists and political dissenters, are specialists in satiric songs, often performed by their friend Karim. When first seen, Karim sports a giant Hosni Mubarak puppet head, delivering a number that ends with him stripping down to a pair of acid-green bikini briefs. (It is 2010 and Mubarak has been president for thirty years, his main super-power being a knack for resort vacations.) Karim's display unnerves Layla, a nice girl from a good family whose photographs of Cairo's street life catch Amir's eye. Taking charge of Layla is Fadwa, an experienced political activist recently released from two months of solitary confinement for a minuscule offense. Soon to join them is Hassan, an artist who, from a family allied with the Muslim Brotherhood, nevertheless admires Karim's provocative graffiti, signing as his assistant. They're a motley crew -- Coptic Christian and Muslim, religious and secular, well-off and poor -- and all have plenty to gripe about, including a static economy, few job prospects, official corruption, and an atmosphere of oppression. The galvanizing moment comes with the real-life police killing of Khaled Saeed, pulled out of a cybercafe on an accusation of hashish possession and brutally beaten; when the photo of his disfigured corpse goes viral, it's time to hit the streets. Soon, Amir and the others are in Tahrir Square, and what starts as a small band of protestors grows into a cast of millions, all fed up with a country stuck in neutral. Paced by the musical numbers "The Eighteen Days" and "Tahrir is Now" and aided by Ann Yee's movement direction, the sequence takes on epic proportions: Projection designer David Bengali covers the stage with archival footage of protesting crowds, layered with Facebook posts and tweets making political statements. Set designer Tilly Grimes unfurls over the audience a set of canopies that serve as additional projection surfaces; we are, effectively, wrapped in history. Providing a thrilling capstone is a news video of Egypt's vice president, announcing Mubarak's resignation. Alas, the moment of triumph evaporates as hard questions of governance must be faced. While everyone hits the dance floor for a lengthy, riotous celebration -- during which the previously abstemious Hassan develops a worrying taste for booze -- Fadwa's calls for a new constitution are ignored. The presidential campaign deploys a legion of uninspiring candidates, preventing any liberal consensus from forming. Mubarak's successor, Mohamed Morsi, exercises his own dictatorial instincts but many resent the role of the Muslim Brotherhood in his ouster, fearing that Sharia law will be imposed. By now, the six protagonists are widely dispersed, barely speaking to each other. And there's worse to come. We Live in Cairo opens on a relatively weak note, arguably not doing enough to set the scene or animate the characters with enlivening details. But the show acquires an authentic sweep as it goes and it's impossible not to care what happens, thanks to a strong cast, many of them new faces. Ali Louis Bourzgui, late of Broadway's The Who's Tommy, is a tad bland in the early scenes as Amir but grows in stature as his Tahrir Square anthem goes viral and, to his considerable bemusement, he is branded a "sexy rockstar revolutionary" by online fans. At the same time, he loses Hany (Michael Khalid Karadsheh, following up solidly on his strong turn in Itamar Moses' The Ally), who succumbs to conspiratorial thinking and, later, flees to New York for law studies. Amir's romantic feelings for Layla are blocked because of their religious differences and her increasing political commitment. Nadina Hassan incisively charts Layla's evolution from timid rules-follower to fearless documenter of her country's agony. In a show that is notably prim about sexual matters, the clear attraction between Karim and Hassan really is the love that dare not speak its name; nevertheless, Drew Elhamalawy elucidates Karim's outrageous ways, which are rooted in his family's strong connections, and John El-Jor captures Hassan's split loyalties and attraction to danger. Rotana Tarabzouni's Fadwa is the group's sparkplug and source of courage until her steely, demanding attitude begins alienating everyone. Every bit of the production design feels accurate. Grimes' scenic design places the action inside an interior defined by cement walls, glass doors and windows, and strings of colored lightbulbs for meager decoration. Bradley King's lighting moves the action fluidly through various locations, providing sunlight washes, police lights, and frantic chases during a lengthy rave sequence. Dina El-Aziz's costumes take subtle note of the character's different stations in life. Justin Stasiw's sound design is blessedly clear while providing crucial effects such as passing traffic, chimes, and pounding on doors. The songs by the Lazours are alternately stirring, scathing, and melancholy; the authors don't make the popular mistake of over-musicalizing We Live in Cairo, using music only where strictly needed to heighten the stakes or move the story along. And they are thoroughly adult about the show's political underpinnings while holding onto a kernel of hope in the final scene. I wonder about the wisdom of opening this show at the tail end of an all-consuming and spiritually draining electoral season. Nevertheless, this is the most interesting and accomplished new musical to come our way this season. --David Barbour 
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