Incendies

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„I am not telling you a story; I am telling you about a pain that fell at my feet.” After the death of their mother and her bizarre will, a pair of twins—a boy and a girl—raised in the West embark on an initiatory journey through their war-torn homeland in the Middle East. They search for a father and a brother whose existence they had known nothing about.

A stark performance about survival, the human condition, social trauma, lives shattered by violence, confronting the horrors of war, people turning into beasts, and others turning into a silent song.

Cast

• Nawal: Ecaterina Lupu
• Nawal / Jihane: Mirela Pană
• Nawal / Nazira: Nina Udrescu
• Wahab / Nihad: Cătălin Bucur
• Jeanne / Sawda: Cristiana Luca
• Simon: Andrei Bibire
• Hermile Lebel / Malak / Abdessamad: Lucian Iftime
• Antoine Ducharme / Chamseddine / School doorman: Liviu Manolache
• Photographer / MD: Andrei Cantaragiu

Reviews

Each Nawal represents a different facet of femininity; at its core, this text can also be read as an exercise in admiration for those women whose suffering inspires us and calls for our solidarity. All three actresses deliver intense performances across a wide emotional spectrum, excelling in impactful solo moments, deep silences, and interactions that form the psychological backbone of the world on stage. They are joined by Cristiana Luca (playing both Nawal’s daughter and her friend), who confirms her artistic maturity, particularly in several scenes where perfectly calibrated drama sets the rhythm and tone of the entire performance. One such scene will undoubtedly linger in the audience’s memory for a long time: the story of a woman forced to decide which of her three children she will save from death. Cristiana delivers it in a whisper—sometimes textured, sometimes allowing fragments of her voice to surface—achieving not only an admirable storytelling feat but also a profound emotional experience, letting us glimpse, for a few moments, pain in its purest form. It is rare for me to encounter such emotions in theater, and beyond objective analysis or professional distance, I feel privileged when such moments arise. Most actors in the cast take on multiple roles. Cătălin Bucur is equally convincing as Nawal’s youthful, pure-hearted lover and as the dark counterpoint to that purity—a man embodying the morbid poetry of crime, unraveling humanity. Lucian Iftime and Liviu Manolache bring vividly detailed and precisely crafted episodic characters to life. Andrei Bibire plays Simon, whose initial fury and skepticism eventually distill into the calm understanding of one who has learned to accept. "Incendies" in Constanța is an important production. It speaks of human fragility but also of resilience, of the contradictions that tear us apart, no matter where we are in the world, and of a history we cannot erase—a shadow that follows us step by step. It explores the burdens of solitude but also the redemption found in the plurality of family, friendship, or community. It is equally significant in reaffirming the artistic trajectory of Alexandru Mâzgăreanu, who has been on an upward creative path for some time. This is not merely a reflection of the director being in “good form” but rather a distinct stage in his career—one marked by responsibility and an uncompromising commitment to both himself and his art.

Călin Ciobotari - „Incendii, o tragedie în alb”

https://www.7iasi.ro/incendii-o-tragedie-in-alb/

[...] Alexandru Mâzgăreanu chooses a poetico-mathematical approach for the production at the Constanța Theatre - cold, stark, and white - allowing the tragic essence of the story to emerge clearly and powerfully in the end, speaking of fate in a way only ancient tragedy once did. Two bookends. At the beginning and end, the nine actors, dressed in white, stand on a white stage, within a white set. They step in and out of roles, some playing multiple characters, while objects or fragments of objects occasionally appear on stage - small details that define a place, a moment, a character. Like on a blank screen, signs and images are written and erased, yet they remain imprinted somewhere, tracing the paths of characters and the history of places. The direction suggests that everything can repeat itself, at any time and in any place. [...] For the role of Nawal, the director casts three actresses of different ages, representing three facets of femininity: Ecaterina Lupu, Mirela Pană, and Nina Udrescu. Ecaterina Lupu captures both strength and gentleness, though at times with an almost excessive tension. Mirela Pană embodies "the woman who sings" - Nawal, who endures water and fire, torture and assault, yet in the end sings as if standing on a grand stage, under spotlights, dressed for performance, with a song that radiates the overwhelming force of life. Nina Udrescu, both as Nawal and as grandmother Nazira, brings a delicate yet profound presence, an unsettling femininity imbued with echoes of another civilization, a form of ancient wisdom and resilience. Nawal’s journey unfolds as a story within a story, reconstructed through scattered images and fragments of information her daughter pieces together. Cristiana Luca, portraying both Jeanne and Sawda - the mother’s companion - crafts nuanced characters rich in significant details, hesitations, curiosity, restlessness, and a transgenerational calling that resonates in her gestures, in her inability to stop searching. In the maternal and feminine lineage, she is the one who must carry the story forward, the one who accepts the challenge. In the role of Sawda, she delivers a profoundly moving moment - whispering, her voice choked with helplessness, higher-pitched notes escaping as she recounts the tale of a woman forced to choose which child to save and which to condemn to death. The scenes of young Nawal and Sawda, two women crossing a war-torn country in search of a lost child, possess a unique poetry: a projected image in faded colors shows a lone tree in a field, next to a burnt-out bus, with two women standing in front of it; then comes a nightmarish, surreal moment - the stage turns red, and the audience feels, viscerally, the explosion, the fire, the death - a blood-stained wolf mask... In the roles of Wahab/Nihad - first, Nawal’s innocent lover, then a monstrous killing machine, a man who embodies pure cruelty, who dons a clown’s nose and kills with savage delight, a brainwashed Joker programmed for torture, a being "cursed" by his mother’s "unconditional" love - Cătălin Bucur delivers one of the most complex and unforgettable performances of the production. Moments of such theatrical grace are rare, and the scene where Bucur plays a chilling game of life and death with a photographer is one of them. He becomes the very incarnation of cruelty - a death-clown with a red nose, blood on his white shirt, and fanaticism burning in his eyes. Andrei Bibire as the son Simon, Lucian Iftime as Hermile Lebel / Malak / Abdessamad, and Liviu Manolache as Antoine Ducharme / Chamseddine / the school janitor create small yet vivid human worlds, brushstrokes of color that shape universes and perspectives. The ending mirrors the beginning - a final white bookend. The story has been told, the tragedy has unfolded, the children have fulfilled the testament left to them, found their father and brother, uncovered the truth. And this truth allows their mother to reclaim her voice from beyond the grave. This voice is that of "the woman who sings" - a grand spectacle, a final entrance onto the stage where the young girl, the mother, the violated woman, the soul scarred by fire and imprisonment, by deafening silence and tormenting sounds, all merge into a song that feels like a new beginning.

Monica Andronescu - artitudini

https://artitudini.ro/poezia-ororii-pe-o-foaie-alba-sau-oedip-la-feminin/