Abbie Lowe
MAJENIN (meaning crazy) is an investing, emotional and funny look at love, connection, and community. It leaves you asking questions like: How can you, and should you, find joy in the darkest of times? Why are relationships of all kinds so difficult? Have you eaten yet?
I truly had no idea what to expect. I went for theatre, but just before heading in I heard the piece described as stand-up which is definitely not my usual bag. But when Writer and Performer Marena Riyad enters the stage she is a huge presence. She starts her comedy set with a few punches towards men and dating in general (all of which are very valid and really did give me a good laugh), and then jokes about various experiences with Arab men, her family and what is happening in Palestine. The tension in the room of people wondering if they can laugh shows she is really toeing the line – but is unafraid to let us sit in discomfort. It is a great introduction to her character, and I immediately knew I would like her.
As this transitioned to more typical theatre we follow Riyad’s character, as she meets a new love interest. George Kreitem is unbelievably charismatic and captivating in his role. I could immediately understand why our main character was falling head over heels as he lent in to quick paced banter, and deeper discussions of identity as they both fly in and out of their Palestinian roots.
Already feeling connected to these two, I felt it was an interesting choice to bring a younger version of Riyad’s character into the mix, played by a different actress (Nadia Dawber).
I am still feeling conflicted in this decision, not because I didn’t love Nadia Dawber’s performance, I really did, but because I felt slightly disconnected from the main character as she tells her own story from the sidelines. Dawber’s performance of naivety and hope really allowed for us to see the character as she was then – young and swept up in love. She was endearing and I only wanted what was best for her, the same way I felt about Riyad. I was still intensely invested in the romance, I just would have potentially liked to see Riyad play through her own story while narrating it, instead of seeing the characters have to freeze every time she stepped forward to explain her emotions to us. The way Riyad interacted with her younger self, always touching, comforting, was a nice addition, but occasionally took me away from the scenes of the love story as there was a third character between the couple.
Once we entered the scenes of the characters in London too, I became unsure of our timeline, and how long they had been co-existing there. I couldn’t decide if she visited for a week, or if she had moved in for months. While it feels like this is a small criticism, I found it muddied my understanding of the later parts of the relationship and had my mind wandering to try and figure it out.
Between beautiful writing and electric moments of desperation this play perfectly portrays deep yearnings of first love. It is sensual, beautiful and all I wanted was to shout ‘just kiss her already!’ With lines like “he knew how to kiss me without even touching my lips” I felt like I was in a romance movie, watching the tension build before the big ‘I love you’ moment. This is truly a love story and I couldn’t help it, I was smiling ear to ear when it was going well, and feeling a huge pit growing in my stomach when it wasn’t.
One of my favourite parts of MAJENIN: A Palestinian Love Story was the questioning of who you are when you move away from your home country. The easy way that lines flitted between languages, and including discussions around speaking in Arabic, slotted perfectly into the script. There was a return to Palestinian music throughout (that they have curated into a playlist for the audience to listen to later!), that really complimented the scenes too. However I often found it either too loud so that I couldn’t quite hear the performers as clearly as I would have liked, or too quiet wondering why it was even there.
The conclusion of this piece sees Marena Riyad, back in front of the mic for one last, hard hitting, stand-up set. This travels, again, between experiences of relationships and breakups, bad dates and reflections on love. Until it starts to divulge into more.
The moment the room shifted was the line “Nobody gives a fuck about what a happy Palestinian has to say – they just want us to talk about the occupation.”
The occupation has been cleverly peppered in conversations throughout, that word ‘occupation’ has even been used to reference other things, occupation of the mind and the heart. There were small discussions of oppression, genocide, and borders, that became more prevolent towards the end of the piece, and all I can say is that it is masterfully written. Rayid questions everything we have just spent an hour watching, she dives deeper and deeper as the stand-up set starts to derail and you could tell the audience were locked in with her.
This is a political piece, it discusses the genocide and war, and the true experience of growing up in third world countries. But overall, it is still a love story in so many forms. A love story between two young people, living complicated lives. A love story of culture and identity. A love story to tea, food, and family. I think Riyad has made an incredible script that balances hard hitting discussions that people probably expect from a Palestinian play in 2026, and something so heartfelt, hopeful and full of joy. I have been craving theatre like this. Enchanting and absorbing, this beautiful story of first love is one I highly recommend you get lost in.
Recommended Drink: A sage tea that you manage to catch at perfect drinking temperature. Oh, and by the way, have you eaten?
You can see MAJENIN: A Palestinian Love Story on 5th-31st (not 18th and 19th) at the Pleasance Dome at 11.45am. Tickets are available through the EdFringe Online Box Office.
Roe McDonnell
Finlay Clench
