Written by Mariem Omari

Directed by Shilpa T-Hyland

Review by Dominic Corr

The Citizens Theatre

Lay upon layer of deceit, blood, and violence – war quickly and quietly trades masks within the media’s gaze; with the Iran war and destruction across the UAE already seeming to slip from mainstream attention-span. And this isn’t even to discuss the atrocities across Gaza, Ukraine, Sudan, and the (somehow) distant vision of the Arab Spring; the revolution across the Middle East and North Africa fifteen years ago. Mariem Omari hasn’t; as their play, Revolution Days, investigates the humanitarian impact; largely through the lens of a camera. Both figuratively with the advent of social media’s place within active war-zones, and the literal, in young aid worker Samira’s camera – documenting it all.

At The Citizens Theatre, Revolution Days insists on the messy, contradictory, darkly comedic and ironic truths of living through one. The production, adapted from the real diaries from Omari as they moved through Cairo, Tunisia, Jordan, and Sana’a during the Arab Spring, strips away the larger narratives and focuses instead on the small, human details that make political upheaval both exhilarating and unbearable. With the more significant moments projected behind performer Olivia Hemmati who mingles around and holds the audience with an authority that reinforces testimony with a fusion of theatre and reportage.

The story unfolds through Samira’s experiences and discoveries, a woman trying to piece together what happened to her, around her and sometimes despite her.  The staging is deliberately sparse, a table and chair that become border crossings, hospital corridors and cramped safe houses with only the smallest shift in posture or light; Jen McGinley’s set design is simplistically effective, the occasional clever use of framing shifts Samira from the intensity of an underground nightclub to the claustrophobia of a small home. This simplicity is not simply an aesthetic choice, it acts as a political one, a reminder that the world can tilt on its axis without warning and that the people caught in its spin rarely have the luxury of spectacle.

It’s observed in Benny Goodman’s lighting, which does a remarkable amount of the storytelling. Warm, amber tones evoke the fleeting safety of domestic spaces, the rare moments when peace holds and conversation feels possible; it’s sincere and human amidst the chaos. Then, with a snap, the world shifts into the cold, interrogative glare of checkpoints and offices, another snap, and the bombardment colours of those hidden queer spaces where lives are on the line if discovered. These transitions are crisp and unsettling, mirroring the instability of the world being described. Sound design is equally sharp, Nik Paget-Tomlinson layering helicopters, chants, gunfire and the low hum of city life into a soundscape that never overwhelms but constantly reminds the audience that danger is always just outside the frame.

Delivering the script, Hemmati responds well to T-Hyland’s direction; delivering a performance that is fiercely controlled and emotionally porous. She moves between dry humour, quiet dread and sudden flashes of anger with an ease that makes the storytelling feel lived rather than recited. Her comic timing is impeccable, allowing absurdities to land without undercutting the seriousness of the situation. Hemmati threads details with a lightness that makes the darker moments hit harder. When the narrative turns toward trauma, she never sensationalises it, instead offering a steady, grounded honesty that honours the real people behind the stories as Samira attempts to document it all; the violence in the West Bank, evidence of rape, or chemical outputs, and the displacement of ‘normality’, all take a physical and mental tole on Samira; manifested in an effective visual manner.

If the production falters, it is in the sheer breadth of the material. With Samira’s journey spanning multiple countries, crises and moral dilemmas, the episodic narrative feels like snapshots rather than fully developed scenes. Yet even when the pacing loosens, the emotional through line remains strong, held together by Hemmati’s clarity and the production’s refusal to simplify the politics into easy binaries.

What Revolution Days achieves, is a reminder that revolutions are not abstract forces but accumulations of human choices, fears and acts of courage. At The Citizens Theatre, the piece becomes an insistent argument for the importance of bearing witness, of listening to those who were there, and of recognising that solidarity is not a slogan but a practice. It is thoughtful, gripping theatre, laced with humour and doubt, and it leaves us with the question; what does responsibility look like once the world starts to burn, and the on-lookers outrage fails to put out the flames.

---