An inspiring but unfocused tale of an immigrant mother.
Love in a Foreign Land, running in the Playground Theatre, is a new work from the London raised Cypriot playwright Maria Vigar and Greek director Anastasia Revi. With support from the Cyprus High Commision, it tells a story inspired by Vigar’s own mother, who left Nicosia in the fifties for London to find her emigrant husband. It’s a cross-cultural story of a family that is especially suitable to London, evident in the mix of Greek and English conversation in the auditorium. Knowing laughter erupts at shouts of ‘poutána’, name day customs, and beloved Cypriot brands appearing on stage. There’s even some humming along to the classic tunes. These moments of joy and cultural insights are highlights in an otherwise heavy work.
Vigar’s text is a thorough reading of the tribulations of this family, all of the skeletons are coming out. There’s domestic abuse, xenophobia, infidelity, sexism, and trauma in Love in a Foreign Land — a title which is perhaps too simple to convey the tribulations endured. Her biography is very detailed, no moment goes unexamined, and the play runs for a bit longer than it should. Vigar’s text is at its best when conversant, the interactions between the adult children and their mother are particularly warming. There are moments of resonance, but the sheer historical scope of the work leads to a lack of focus, particularly in the second act. This is not helped by a complicated set that delays momentum during scene changes.
Revi’s directorial style favours characters that are larger than life. This works when in the
hands of performers like Wanja Mary Sellars — a wonderful character actress who,
seemingly, can shift roles at the drop of a hat. However this tends to result in overblown
moments of soapy drama. When the action begins at a ten, where else is there to go? This is personified in the abusive husband Andreas played by Ilias Alexeas. His outbursts are frequent, his voice is almost always raised, he is perpetually waving his arms in anger. It is a characterisation that is so drenched in villainy that he becomes less believable as the action goes on. Scenes between the young couple are difficult to watch not only for the brutality of the sleazy Andreas, but for the melodramatic nature of their dialogue. Revi’s favouring of high impact delivery is at odds with the humanity of Vigar’s text.
The leading role of Theophania delivers fluent portrayals from Lucy Christofi Christy and
Elena Hadjiafxendi as the older and younger Theo respectively. Hadjiafxendi has a
bright-eyed charm to her and a beautiful singing voice that punctuates the action of the play. When Theo first arrives in London, Hadjiafxendi is brimming with life, her exhilaration radiates farther than the black box confines of the Playground, yet she manages to remain human and believable in the bombastic world Revi has created. Christy is jaded and mercurial. Her suffocating regrets trigger passionate outbursts as she berates her younger self. This relationship between the past and the present Theophania is the most compelling element of the text. Despite her tempestuous marriage and occasional spats with her offspring, her most agonising dialogue is internal. The role of Theophania in the hands of these skillful performers, much like the woman herself, holds the shaky foundations together.









