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Mohamed El Khatib finds collective comfort in facing the inevitable fate of us all A Beautiful Ending
Birmingham Rep Door
*** FOR everyone, death is inevitable. It is
a tragedy that everyone faces and must go through within their lifetime.
It is the universal language for everyone in the world and Mohamed El
Khatib shows exactly that in his self-written performance. Khatib documents and tells us about the emotional
journey from finding out about his mother’s terminal cancer until her
death. It is truly a touching subject for any audience member, but with
a matter-of-fact delivery and engaging sense of storytelling, he adds
creates a powerful sense of empathy and sensitivity. Khatib’s way of storytelling is incredible,
mostly because his performance is completely performed in French. As a
non-French speaker, it took some time to adjust to the content and
general atmosphere created from the concept, however, there were English
surtitles displayed at the back. Once accustomed, Khatib’s native
language showed to the mostly English-speaking audience that death is
the universal language. Everyone understands the concept of death and
the clever concept of language made this point all the clearer. Zirlib is Khatib’s company, hailing from Orleans
in France. In his wonderfully open story, he explains his mother’s
origins and shows their interaction as mother and son. Through his
account, it is almost as we are there with his family, going through the
daily motions of hospital visits and sickness. It allows us to reflect
upon our own paths of losing loved ones too. In Khatib’s sensitive way of recalling his
mother’s story as well as his own, he tells us that he understands, and
people are bound to have similar experiences. There is a sense of
unifying comfort to both the audience and performer through his familiar
story, with a unique path. The set is basic, although his story is enough to
leave a dramatic impact. The stage of the intimate studio space is
practically bare, save from two tables at either side of the floor. On
the right is a small table with wheels that has on it a cam-recorder,
paper and a Dictaphone. A television sits on a stand on the left hand of
the stage. The set may have seemed sparse, but the screen
and props were contributors to the shows sensitivity and tenderness.
Khatib explained that he recorded the events throughout his mother’s
sickness and openly displayed them for us to see, including footage from
her funeral. The biggest impact however were conversations in
hospital, in which we see him talking to doctors on numerous occasions
and are shown the point of which the family are told that their mothers
cancer is terminal. There was a technical error before the end of the
play which should not go unnoticed. It could be forgiven due to the
nature of Khatib’s studio-style show. Sometimes it felt as if you were
listening and offering solace to a friend in their time of need. The
apologies were more than accepted from the laid back audience and indeed
he took the black out of the television screen in his stride. At the end of the play, Khatib speaks English,
bridging the gap of language and finally coming out of his own world. It
is a bold statement as he tells us the story of the events at his
mother’s funeral, ending with a sad edge but also not forgetting the
fact that death is an open door to a multitude of emotions, of which he
left us to explore. Khatib is touching and leaves us with deeply
thought provoking and incredibly personal topic, choosing a subject that
is mostly buried internally in our minds, but yet is still an integral
part of everyone’s life. Through Khatib’s own story, he reaches out to
everyone and gives comfort in that nobody is alone. His piece dares to
help those who have experienced grief and most importantly, it is a
piece that helps himself. Elizabeth Halpin
26-01-16
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