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The Guardian
a day ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Application 39 (for the 2048 Gaza Summer Olympics) / Return to Palestine review – witness more than theatre
When all the outraged warnings and urgent alarm calls over the atrocities taking place in Gaza have been voiced, and to seemingly little effect for those enduring the suffering, what remains? In the case of these two plays, which distil the experience of being a modern-day Palestinian under fire, it would seem to be humour, albeit pitch black and acid sharp. Staged as part of PalArt festival and Shubbak festival, they deploy absurdism, satire and radical joy, swerving between the horrors to capture immense human resilience in the face of unspeakable suffering. Ahmed Masoud's futuristic play Application 39 (for the 2048 Gaza Summer Olympics) imagines Gaza in the year 2040. An online prank by two siblings (Joe Haddad and Sara Masry) has resulted in Gaza winning the Olympic bid. A political crisis ensues in a land which is now entirely controlled by Israel – they can turn the food 'on and off' we hear, which contains clear echoes of the current blockage of aid by Israel, resulting in the starvation of civilians. This future world is still only in the first phase of a ceasefire and rubble from the 2025 conflict is still lying untouched. Adapted by the Palestinian playwright from a short story he wrote in 2018, and directed by Cressida Brown, it blends satire with discussions on how to live under occupation, to resist or submit, and the possibility of peace. Alongside this are dramatic accounts of the horrors on the ground in Gaza which chime loudly with the present day; the siblings enact their memories of 2025 – lying under rubble as petrified children whose family is dead, homes razed, and the land turned into a godforsaken place. There is little need to suspend disbelief as they recount what they see and experience: hospitals and ambulances destroyed, mothers scrambling in panic down flattened streets with their children, hospital directors arrested and detained without charge. Given Israel's ban on allowing journalists into Gaza, these seem like the closest thing to witness testimonies, all the more so because Masoud, whose own family members have been killed in Gaza by Israeli forces, has collected real-life accounts and threaded his play through with those words. There are deeply poetic and reflective moments but also a prevailing sense of a play performed in real time, its suffering contemporaneous, its story real and raw. The Freedom Theatre's Return to Palestine has had a far longer gestation period – it was devised almost a decade ago, although this is its UK premiere. The company's general manager, Mustafa Sheta, was until recently held without charge by Israeli authorities and the theatre in Jenin, in the West Bank, is no longer accessible to its artists. Still they have produced a finessed and exquisitely tragicomic piece of physical theatre, with magnificent clowning. Directed by Micaela Miranda and based on real stories collected from across Palestine, it follows Jad, a Palestinian-American, on his first visit to the homeland. He is naive, excited to see his family, and wants a tour of the territory. Together, the superb six-strong cast (Motaz Malhees, Amir Abu Alrob, Ameena Adileh, Sofia Asir, Alaa Shehadeh and Osama Alazzeh) twist or stretch to become hooting cars, beds, tables, chairs, and the Statue of Liberty. It is visually poetic in the shapes and shadows they create, and both deadly serious and gloriously silly in tone. Just as in Masoud's play, there is minimal staging, constrained this time to a narrow white rectangle on a black stage – a metaphor for the confined yet still contested land left for Palestinians in the region? Everyone is satirised, from Israeli officials at the airport who are horrified by Jad's Muslim surname to Americans boasting freedom (while aiding occupation) and comically garrulous Arabs. Sudden moments of pain inject a drama that moves through trauma and into a joy that feels deeply radical, heartwarming and filled with love. As Jad travels across the West Bank, he witnesses the dead-eyed administrative implacability of the checkpoint guards, the stark contrast between cramped Palestinian camps and the world of the settlers, as well as violence and death. An oud player and percussionist are sensational, heightening the comedy and tension. Both shows give the current state of conflict its historical context: they speak of the Nakba, violent occupation, illegal settlements, daily injustices and casual daily killings of Palestinian civilians. This is more than just theatre. It is art, activism, political resistance and storytelling – painful, joyous, elemental and essential. At Theatro Technis, London, until 1 June
Forbes
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- Forbes
Workplace Gossip For Your Entertainment, in Books and TV
Workplace Gossip in Books and TV We spend much of our adult lives working. And that comes with workplace politics and managing challenging personalities, all while diplomatically trying to hold back what we really want to say. Despite the huge investment it takes to cultivate these relationships, most of us had little choice in selecting these constant companions. Therefore, managing these relationships takes a suite of communication skills, including influence, persuasion, emotional intelligence, and gossip. For those without formal power, such as a titled leadership position, managing horizontally and up can be an important communication skill to master. Without executive power that comes with formal leadership, employees need to rely on another source of power. That's where gossip comes in. Gossip gets a bad name and can, indeed, often be toxic in workplaces. But dig deeper, and evolutionary psychologists argue that gossip developed and has continually evolved to police morality in communities by letting people know what is permissible, applauded, or tolerated. Those who violate these moral norms will face reputation damage, exclusion, or even expulsion from the community. The most challenging workplace dramas can also be a source of entertainment and humor, as we, as humans, try to process and grapple with the great stressors in our lives. The TV show, The Office, masterfully turned cringeworthy office politics into comedy that so many of us could relate to. As an example of policing moral norms, in the episode called 'The Secret', Michael overhears Stanley and Jim talking about having feelings for someone, which Michael interprets as Stanley having an affair. But, in fact, what Michael overheard was Jim sharing his feelings for Pam. Michael then spends the episode dropping hints to others in the office about Stanley's infidelity, and gossip whips through the workplace through whispers and speculations behind Stanley's back. In a style classic to The Office, the truth was messily revealed in an office meeting, but the damage was done, in terms of Stanley's feelings of frustration and isolation caused by Michael's use of gossip to police what he saw as wrong. This example shows an effective use of gossip to police moral norms, mixed with toxic side of gossip, exacerbated by the fact that it was based on a miscomputation, which is all too common with this source of behind-the-scenes power. Some outstanding books about gossip include, Big Little Lies by Liane Moriarty, depicting the spread of gossip through a community of school parents, The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid, about how a career can be shaped through gossip, and a recent one by Canadian author Natalie Sue with the clever title for a book about office communication: I Hope This Finds You Well. Imagine an IT mistake that allows you access to the private emails and direct messages of all your colleagues. You can know what people are saying about each other (and you) behind their backs, read their elicit communications with romantic partners, and keep abreast of all the gossip and scheming about looming job cuts. That's the basic plot of I Hope This Finds You Well, and Sue artfully makes the reader grapple the protagonist's dilemma to report the IT error or to use this source of information to her advantage. Check this one out if you can relate to the burnout and disengagement felt by Millennials in dead-end jobs and if you're not too squeamish about witnessing the slow build and inevitable trainwreck that culminates in this office gossip drama.
The Guardian
3 days ago
- Business
- The Guardian
Buy an exclusive print from our Well Actually series
Carmen Casado - holasoyka. Madrid, Spain As an illustrator I'm lucky to be able to work with international clients who propose different and interesting projects, it's always a pleasure to illustrate stimulating articles. Especially if you can mix an idea with humour and converse at the same time with the text. I also like to play with retro aesthetics and current visual elements that we all identify. How to start running For this illustration, I imagined that little person in our watch improving every day in their training. I found it very motivating!Buy your print here Therapy Was Meant to Help - So Why Do I Feel Worse? In this illustration, I tried to reflect the dynamic emotions that come up during the process of opening up in therapy. Sometimes we don't understand them or they don't lead us to happy places, but it is good to bring them your print here Leonie Bos Leonie Bos is an Amsterdam-based artist and illustrator known for her stylized yet rough painting style that blends figurative and abstract elements. Initially focusing on architectural illustrations, she has recently shifted her attention to the human figure, exploring themes of anonymity and abstraction in her work. Her illustrations have been featured in prominent publications such as The New Yorker, The Guardian, and Wallpaper*. Sexy knees Halfway there: a column about midlife. No sex drive and a 'tanking libido': how I redefined intimacy in midlifeBuy your print here Self-analysis Why middle-aged people have a duty to be self-centeredBuy your print here Lola Beltrán Lola Beltrán, an illustrator from Valencia, weaves nostalgia and emotion through retro and manga-inspired art. Her delicate, muted images of vulnerable women echo vintage Hollywood glamour and the bold spirit of pulp sci-fi comics—quiet rebellion painted with subtle grace and timeless feeling. A vivid critique, blending fragile glamour and bold defiance, exposing society's boxed expectations of women through layered, symbolic imagery. Infant beauty parlour Ask Ugly: I'm getting ads for beauty products for my baby. Infants don't need skincare – do they?Buy your print here Iffy comments Ask Ugly: all of the 'iffy' comments about my grey hair bother me. Should I start dyeing it again?Buy your print here Size options A4: 8.3 x 11.7in A3: 11.7 x 16.5in A2: 16.5 x 23.3in Prices (exclusive of taxes and shipping) A4 unframed £80; A4 framed £125 A3 unframed £120; A3 framed £165 A2 unframed £160; A2 framed £225 Global Express Shipping:UK 8.5 Europe 13.15 US/Canada 15 ROW 39Prints Prints are presented on museum-grade, fine-art paper stocks, with archival standards guaranteeing quality for 100-plus years. All editions are printed and quality checked by experts at theprintspace, the UK's leading photo and fine art print Carbon-neutral, sustainable production, packaging and shipping. Global delivery with tracked and insured shipping. Theprintspace takes great care in packaging your artwork, with a no-quibble satisfaction guarantee should you be unhappy in any your print here
Al Bawaba
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- Al Bawaba
Video: French comedian hilariously mocks Macron's viral plane slap
Published May 27th, 2025 - 10:01 GMT ALBAWABA - Video of French President Emmanuel Macron getting slapped on the hands by his wife, Brigitte Macron, has been trending in the past 24 hours and triggering massive mockery online. Despite Macron's clarification that what people saw in the clip, where Brigitte was seen pushing him in the face using both of her hands, was nothing but a joke between the couple, people still can't believe it. The video was caught immediately after the presidential plane landed in Vietnam, where Macron first stopped to start his 6-day Asia tour, during which he will also visit Indonesia and Singapore. French comedian hilariously mocks Brigitte Macron's viral plane slap, after she hit her husband in the face. 🎥 Instagram: hugues_lavigne — 🩺 (@Doctor_N_masih) May 27, 2025 French comedian hilariously mocks Macron's viral plane slap In the footage, the plane door opened, and then France's first lady, Brigitte Macron, appeared to push her husband away with both hands. The clip was caught on camera, causing a wave of mockery online. A French comedian posted a video of himself where he reenacted the moment Macron was slapped in the face by his wife Brigitte, but in a more comedic way. He first performed the slap then he mockingly continued as if he was getting more slaps in different parts of his body. © 2000 - 2025 Al Bawaba (
The Guardian
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Homework by Geoff Dyer review – coming of age in 70s England
Droll, erudite, digressive, self-deprecating, laid-back rather than standup in his humour – the Geoff Dyer voice is unmistakable. In his new book he says he's 'most at home in the idiom of the ironic switchback, an educationally enhanced version of something that still [comes] under the broad conversational church-pub known as banter'. You can hear the banter in the title of his 2003 book Yoga for People Who Can't Be Bothered to Do It. Banter's trickier with a childhood memoir. If you were relatively happy growing up, as he was, in Cheltenham, the only child of parents who loved him, and you want to be honest about your upbringing, then you can't muck about too much. Dyer's humour has never precluded seriousness – about jazz, film, photographs, paintings, DH Lawrence and much besides. But as the title suggests, Homework is a duty in earnest, a task he's compelled (if only by himself) to complete. As a book about beginnings, it's also chronological, moving from infancy at the end of the 50s to his arrival at Oxford as an undergraduate. Straight-line narration isn't Dyeresque: telling the story of the early years means breaking with the late style he used so winningly in his 2002 book about endings, The Last Days of Roger Federer, which was arranged in numbered sections. A nonfiction Bildungsroman is more of a challenge. It's a while before he hits his stride. To outsiders Cheltenham sounds posh, but the end-of-terrace house he grew up in was a modest two-up, two-down. His father worked as an aircraft engineer; he'd been in India during the war but after that his only trip was on a coach to France in his 70s. He had no time for royals or religion and hated spending money: if petrol was needed for the car, a sky-blue Vauxhall Victor, he'd only half-fill the tank. Life meant the allotment and submission to his lot. 'I was home-schooled in notions of acceptance I later found entirely unacceptable,' Dyer says, rejecting the 'subsistence existentialism', to which his mother also adhered. Born on a farm in Shropshire, she'd have liked to be a seamstress but worked in the school canteen and as a cleaner. Toy soldiers, conker fights, fizzy drinks, Wall's ice-creams, chicken-in-a-basket pub lunches, swimming lessons (plus verrucas), trips in the family car to see relations, programmes on the black-and-white telly: his recall of period detail and brand names is exceptional. Perhaps it's an only-child thing or that the re-discovery of two boxes of small, semi-educational cards (the kind that came with tea and cigarette packets) has helped him access his past. As a boy he was an avid collector and as a writer he's the same: back then he'd be completing a card sequence or building an Airfix model, now it's 'the process of compiling and organising the work you are holding in your hand.' As he documents childhood minutiae, Dyer moves slowly. With half the book gone he's still finishing primary school. Then comes the 11-plus, which he passes ('the most momentous event in my life, not simply up to that point but for its duration') and embarks on the path that will separate him from his parents. The clash he describes, between a boy's growing desire to be 'with it' and his parents' dour commitment to 'go without', is one all boomers will recognise, especially those of us brought up in the provinces. He quotes the poet Tony Harrison on how 'books, books, books' create a chasm. His parents were tolerant of him as a 'less than nice adolescent' but what he thought, felt and experienced became increasingly 'incommunicable' to them. He is, he says, 'a grammar‑school boy through and through to the core of my being'. He means it proudly. As a high achiever at school, he wasn't much of a rebel and has few dramas or traumas to report. There's a scary ride on his racing bike and the occasional near fight, but more often it's the teenage boredom of having 'nowhere to go' and the problem of how to meet girls. His collecting urge moves on to Athena posters and LPs. Then things pick up – and the humour does too. He has sex (in those days, for a boy, a matter of 'resistance overcome by negotiation and sleight of hand'), becomes a boozer ('men with huge guts were almost role models'), and gets a Saturday job in a shop selling Airfix kits ('I became a born-again modeller'). More eventfully, he's part of a crowd that goes on a post-pub rampage; through ill-fortune – his shoe-print is found on one of the cars they clambered over – he's the only culprit charged and fined, an episode that leaves him feeling the shame of a loser who, on the verge of going to Oxford, has let his parents down. Here and there he holds stuff back, like the nickname he was given at school ('I hated mine so much that I won't even repeat it here') or the reason he was taken to the GP about problems with his 'toy-oy', his father's name for the penis. But he doesn't spare himself embarrassment, whether it's failure to inherit his father's craft skills (he describes himself as a 'wildly impatient, cost-cutting, tantrum-prone bodger') or the night he locks his parents out of the house after a heated row. 'Presenting myself in a consistently poor light has been more than a source of pleasure over the last 30 years,' he says, but he takes care with others. Some of the names here have been changed. What does make him feel guilty of betrayal ('nothing has ever been more painful for me to write about') is telling the story of his mother's horrendous birthmark, which stretched from her left shoulder to her left hand; surgery in her 20s removed it up to the elbow but she couldn't bear a second operation to remove the rest. Dyer leaves this revelation until late on in the book but as he says, sympathetically, it explains so much about his mother: her privacy, powerlessness and lack of self-worth. His portrayal of his father is no less affectionate: his feeling of being 'hard done by' was wearisome and 'yes, he was unbelievably tight but he was also and always, at the deepest level, honourable'. Dyer worries that the book will read 'like the biography of someone who went on to become a minor British painter best known for seascapes'' or 'the memoir of a forgotten jazz man'. He wouldn't want it to be just another Gloucestershire childhood memoir, either, in the shadow of Laurie Lee's Cider with Rosie or Dennis Potter's Blue Remembered Hills. What lifts it beyond routine reminiscence (and makes the excess of cigarette cards and Airfix kits more bearable) is its evocation of a lost era, a postwar culture eager to embrace new freedoms while still recovering from the privations of the 1930s and 40s. The grown-up, cosmopolitan Dyer doesn't miss the place yet he does, intensely: 'England, my England: that has felt mine more than ever, since I've been living where I've always dreamed of being, in California, where I'll never feel at home.' Homework by Geoff Dyer is published by Canongate (£20). To support the Guardian, order your copy Delivery charges may apply.
