NEW YORK—Marathon running: It’s the feeling of movement, of being alone with your thoughts, yet at the same time becoming part of a greater whole. This is even more important when the runner strides towards their own personal finish line. Such is the case in “Blind Runner,” an intensely personal theatrical experience drawn from fact. In it, running means far more than simply going from point A to point B. It’s currently presented by the Mehr Group at St. Ann’s Warehouse.
An Iranian woman (Ainaz Azarhoush) is languishing in a Tehran prison, where she will remain for another four years, six months, and 12 days due to comments and postings she’s made. A former marathon runner, her only physical and emotional outlet is running up and down a prison corridor. She calculates that if she runs back and forth through the corridor 1,132 times each week, she will complete a marathon by the time she’s released.
Meanwhile, outside the prison walls, her husband (Mohammed Reza Hosseinzadeh) runs a half-marathon each day in an attempt to call attention to his wife’s predicament. As time passes, fewer and fewer people join him in his daily protest. There’s a growing, unspoken feeling that their efforts will make no difference, other than perhaps to call unwanted attention to themselves.
Despite daily calls from his wife and weekly visits from her husband, the couple finds they have less and less of substance to say to one another. It’s especially difficult since their weekly meeting place is a room with bright overhead lights, a glass window separating them, and the very strong possibility of everything they do and say being monitored and recorded. Neither understands the other’s suffering and so they grow more isolated. But even as they drift further apart, they remain tethered by their shared history and ties neither is willing to break.
Oppressed From Within and Without
“Blind Runner”—a title that could apply to each of the story’s characters—explores a fascinating allegory regarding the human condition: Three people feel a need to do something intensely personal to maintain a sense of control under an oppressive regime. This point is made particularly meaningful during the play’s running sequences. There’s certainly enough drama to hold audience interest, with the program notes offering deeper personal insights by writer and director Amir Reza Koohestani’s on the inspiration for the story. However, several technical problems weaken the overall effect.
All spoken dialogue is in Farsi, with very small English subtitles projected on a rear wall of the stage. Conversations between the husband and wife overlap at points, causing the corresponding subtitles to change almost too quickly to follow the conversation. Despite these issues, the story’s core message—the need for self-expression when one’s personal liberty has been taken away—comes through loud and clear.
The actors do a fine job as composite characters drawn from reality, each representing a segment of society who suffer great hardships. The characters desperately try to contain their despair and prevent it from completely overwhelming them.
“Blind Runner” explores important issues regarding relationships, the need to sometimes put yourself first when making important decisions, the question of what freedom truly means, and whether the risks one is willing to take to achieve it are worth it.
