The Revolutionary Spirit is Alive in “We Live in Cairo”

Though many people rushed to them post election, the musical of our political moment is not “Suffs”, nor is it “Ragtime”. It is, for better or worse, New York Theatre Workshop’s “We Live in Cairo”. Directed by Taibi Magar, this brilliant new musical captures all the adrenaline, elation, heartbreak, and betrayal that comes with fighting for a better world. 

The piece, which has taken over a decade to develop, follows six artist revolutionaries, with varying levels of reluctance and fervor, as they grapple with how to meet their revolutionary moment. Can their art be used to aid the cause (in terms of art I especially enjoyed Raphael Mishler’s puppet design!)? Can they connect across identity and association? What happens when they get what they want but don’t like what happens next? With electric pop-rock musical theater meets traditional Arab music by Daniel and Patrick Lazour (who also collaborated on the book), “We Live in Cairo” is more than a history lesson about the Egyptian events of the Arab Spring of 2011, it is itself a revolution and a revelation. 

Nadina Hassan’s wary but increasingly emboldened Layla (a young Muslim photographer) brings us into the story as she becomes entangled with the radical friends of her Coptic Christian Orpheus-esque boyfriend Amir (Ali Louis Bourzgui). On the opposite end of the political engagement is Fadwa, (a fiercely captivating Rotana Tarabzouni). We also meet Amir’s brother and songwriting collaborator Hany (Michael Khalid Karadsheh), resident graffiti artist Karim (John El-Jor), and Karim’s apprentice (and Muslim Brotherhood associated love interest?) Hassan (Drew Elhamalawy). 

The company of WE LIVE IN CAIRO at New York Theatre Workshop, Photo by Joan Marcus

Their attempts to bring down Hosni Mubarak and their various interpersonal conflicts become somewhat sprawling, but the 2.5 hour show is generally compelling enough to hold them all. It sometimes falters when attempting to flesh out the personal dimension. Layla and Amir’s relationship is somewhat unbelievable (Layla has more chemistry with Fadwa). The conflict between their religions is often repeated, but under-explored. Similarly Hassan and Karim’s connection gets very little stage time. 

It’s an ambitious, messy story that is sometimes told messily. Still, it’s easy to get swept up in the energy, especially when everyone is singing and dancing in stunning harmony (vocal arrangements by Madeline Benson, choreography and movement direction by Ann Yee). The set design by Tilly Grimes and video design by David Bengali effectively bring the spirit of the protest to the stage. There’s a lot of context to establish, but the urgency and stakes remain high even when the dialogue veers on expositional.

It’s powerful to watch this piece in this moment, when protests continue against the US funding of the genocide in Gaza. (Notably NYTW has declined to call for a ceasefire). It reminded me of both the limits and potentials of people power– how strong and how fragile our relationships are. There’s hopelessness in this portrait of an attempted revolution; no shortage of loss and despair. All the same, the piece inspires strength to keep fighting. Perhaps the ending is tied up a bit neatly, but what’s so wrong with a little idealism? The show allows for the complexity and breakdown of its idealistic characters, but it’s not harsh on them. Idealism is what allows us to fight in the first place and that in itself is worthwhile.