THE BEEKEEPER OF ALEPPO

Richmond Theatre

★★★★★

“amidst the devastation, Almeida allows moments of tenderness and humour to emerge”

In Anthony Almeida’s powerful stage adaptation of The Beekeeper of Aleppo, the audience is invited into the profoundly moving story of Nuri (Adam Sina) and Afra (Farah Saffari). Based on the acclaimed novel by Christy Lefteri and adapted for the stage by Nesrin Alrefaai and Matthew Spangler, this Nottingham Playhouse production tells a story that refuses to be forgotten – one rooted in the devastating reality of the Syrian war and the refugee crisis it created.

We first meet Nuri in Aleppo, shortly before the outbreak of war forces millions to flee their homes. A master beekeeper, he works alongside his cousin Mustafa (Joseph Long), whose family has kept bees for three generations and runs a shop known for the sweetest honey. Under Almeida’s direction, the production immerses us in Syria through evocative storytelling, traditional songs, and a sand-swept set by Ruby Pugh that evokes both war-torn streets and refugee camps.

The narrative unfolds in a deliberately non-linear way. While the play opens in the sterile isolation of a UK refugee centre – confronting the bureaucracy faced by those seeking asylum – it soon moves between past and present. Through fragments of memory, we witness how Nuri and Afra were forced to leave their home and the perilous journey that carried them across borders.

The play grips the audience from the beginning, placing a quiet weight in the chest that mirrors the emotional burden carried by its characters. Yet amidst the devastation, Almeida allows moments of tenderness and humour to emerge.

Afra has lost her sight – a physical manifestation of an internal shutdown brought on by trauma. We see Nuri desperately trying to find medical help for her, only to encounter the slow machinery of bureaucracy and the barriers faced by refugees navigating an unfamiliar system. As the narrative unfolds, the full scale of their tragedy gradually emerges. This is a painful story to witness: a story of losing everything built over years, of grief, and of learning how to live with memories that refuse to fade.

“We lost our bees. Let’s see if we can save our children.”

We hear stories of the unimaginable, including the haunting image of Nuri’s nephew among bodies in a river. And yet, even after such loss, survival demands that they keep moving. We follow their journey – from Syria to Istanbul and Athens – in the desperate hope of reaching England, where Mustafa is already trying to rebuild a life and return to beekeeping.

Adam Sina delivers a remarkable performance, portraying Nuri with quiet vulnerability and emotional depth. Haunted by trauma, he repeatedly speaks of his son, yet for much of the play we are left uncertain about the child’s fate. This lingering absence, closely tied to Nuri’s PTSD, creates a quiet but devastating tension throughout the production.

The ensemble – including Joseph Long, Aram Mardourian, Alia Lahlou, Princess Khumalo, Dona Atallah, and others – bring impressive versatility to the stage, shifting seamlessly between roles, accents, and locations. With Almeida’s thoughtful direction and Kane Husbands’ striking movement choreography, scenes transition fluidly between the painful present and fragments of memory.

As someone from Greece, watching parts of this journey unfold on stage felt strikingly familiar. The portrayal of tense encounters, crowded squares where refugees wait for the next uncertain step, and the ways in which their vulnerability can be exploited reflects a reality many in the region have witnessed first hand.

Ultimately, The Beekeeper of Aleppo is not only a story about displacement. It is about memory, survival, and the fragile threads that keep people moving forward when everything else has been lost. It leaves you devastated but full of humanity. It makes you see, but also wonder.

And as the play quietly reminds us: wherever there are bees, there is life.

THE BEEKEEPER OF ALEPPO

Richmond Theatre

Reviewed on 10th March 2026

by Nasia Ntalla

Photography by Manuel Harlan

THE BEEKEEPER OF ALEPPO

★★★★

“a tender and humorous reflection on the art of pausing”

At first glance, the set suggests a threshold to anywhere or nowhere. A yellow door stands centre stage, framed by a bench, clusters of plants, drifting clouds and scattered boxes. Designed by Hannah Danson, the world feels recognisable yet faintly imagined, like a memory of a waiting room rather than a literal one. It is grounded in realism but gently tips into the surreal.

Directed by Sydney Stevenson, the production leans confidently into this delicate balance between absurdism and emotional sincerity, allowing stillness and silence to sit comfortably alongside heightened comic exchanges.

Into this space steps Mulberry, played by Steve Furst. He welcomes us holding an umbrella without a canopy beneath the sound of falling rain. Furst fills the stage with assured presence and finely tuned comic expression. We quickly grasp the central condition of his existence: he does not know the time, yet he must wait. More than that, he has turned waiting into a hobby. He insists he enjoys it.

He is soon joined by Bix, performed by the play’s writer, Gary Wilmot. Wilmot not only stars in the production but makes his playwriting debut with While They Were Waiting. His character carries a lighter, more open energy, slightly dishevelled in unironed clothes and gently curious about his circumstances. Unlike Mulberry, Bix seems genuinely intrigued by the reason he is there.

The two men stand before the same yellow door, yet appear fundamentally opposed. They rarely agree, though they circle strikingly similar questions.

What is time? What defines a place? Is a location shaped by how we perceive it, or by how others see us within it? If I say I am here, but you see me as being there, where are we really?

Wilmot’s writing allows these philosophical ideas to unfold through rapid-fire banter and carefully timed jokes that dovetail neatly into one another. The dialogue balances absurdism with accessibility, layering small reflections beneath comic exchanges. Furst’s ability to undercut Mulberry’s rigid, almost authoritarian persona with flashes of pantomime-style humour is sharp and effective, while Wilmot plays Bix with warmth and a quiet emotional undercurrent.

Mulberry insists that waiting is a pastime; Bix suggests ringing the doorbell, something Mulberry claims to have already tried and firmly discourages repeating.

“But waiting is boring!” Bix protests.

And that question lingers. What do we do in the pauses? How do we inhabit the in-between spaces of our lives? Wilmot’s script proposes that it is precisely within these mundane liminal moments that life’s most profound truths reside.

There is deliberate repetition throughout, reinforcing the cyclical nature of waiting. It serves the themes well, though at times the patterns become predictable; certain jokes and exchanges feel anticipated before they land. Yet even within that familiarity, the performers’ chemistry sustains the rhythm.

At its heart, While They Were Waiting is an ode to life’s suspended moments, those stretches where we feel almost submerged in Lethe, the river of forgetfulness, unsure whether we wish to move forward or remain where we are. It becomes a heartfelt meditation on existence, grief, companionship and the quiet relief of leaning on another person.

There are flashes of genuine vulnerability that cut through the comedy. Occasionally, however, the script edges toward telling us how to feel rather than allowing emotion to surface organically. The most powerful moments arise in the subtext, in what is left unsaid, in the stillness between lines.

Blending absurdism, warmth and introspection, While They Were Waiting offers a tender and humorous reflection on the art of pausing. It suggests that perhaps waiting is not an interruption of life but life itself, happening quietly while we think nothing is happening at all.

Tag Archives: NASIA NTALLA

THE BEEKEEPER OF ALEPPO

★★★★★

UK Tour

THE BEEKEEPER OF ALEPPO

Richmond Theatre

★★★★★

“amidst the devastation, Almeida allows moments of tenderness and humour to emerge”