Head Over Heels in Saudi Arabia[author-post-rating] (2/5 Stars)

Dr. Maisah Sobaihi, an academic who works at a University in Jeddah, wants to challenge our perceptions about life in Saudi Arabia. Saudi-born but American-accented, having spent her childhood in California and studied in London, Sobaihi is both a Saudi woman and a world citizen, and she believes that there needs to be more of a dialogue between her home country and the West. Unfortunately, Head Over Heels in Saudi Arabia is such a strange little play that it’s hard to tell what, exactly, Sobaihi wants to say.

Primarily dealing with the idea that in Saudi Arabia a man may take as many as four wives, Sobaihi alternates between addressing the audience directly and playing the parts of several women of her own acquaintance. The first is confronted with the knowledge that her husband of 25 years has decided to take a second wife; the second enters into a covert misyar marriage of mutual convenience, becoming the second wife of a wealthy family man. Both stories are played for laughs, and though in some senses they are sympathetic portrayals, these women are largely made to look a little ridiculous.

Though Sobaihi’s aims are noble and it is genuinely remarkable, and greatly to her credit, that this is the first Saudi show ever to make it to the Fringe, the script has huge problems with pacing and feels like a mish-mash of ideas. For instance, when explaining why she has been single since her divorce, Sobaihi sings a few lines of ‘You Can’t Hurry Love’ by the Supremes – but then just keeps going, and sings most of the song, encouraging the slightly uncomfortable audience to clap along. Moments like this feel as if Sobaihi is just making things up as she goes along, and the informal, chatty structure of Head Over Heels, as well as the many verbal slips Sobaihi makes over the course of the show, do little to discourage this impression.

Populated by poorly-defined characters who talk endlessly in repetitive, over-long monologues, it soon becomes clear that Head Over Heels in Saudi Arabia could do with the guiding hand of a director or co-writer. What is more, though Sobaihi’s aims in showing an international audience the reality of life for Saudi women are laudable, you quickly realise that all three characters – Sobaihi’s two friends and Sobaihi herself – are actually women who are hugely wealthy or educated, which statistically makes them a minority.

The fact that women are not allowed to drive in Saudi Arabia is made light of, with stories about the difficulty involved in finding a good driver – but surely not every woman in Saudi Arabia can afford to both pay a driver and own a car? So surely, then, for many, the restrictions on driving are actually hugely problematic? Through the sketch-like scenes and heightened reality of the characters, Sobaihi hopes to show us the humorous reality of life in her country – inevitably, though, reality is too subjective a thing.

Theatrical problems aside, it would be difficult anyway to just sit back and enjoy the show, when the ‘humorous reality’ of life in Saudi looks, actually, fairly sad for each of Sobaihi’s three characters, and when you know that this is a country where a gang rape victim may be sentenced to 90 lashes or women imprisoned for bringing food to the half-starved victim of an abusive husband. Though she cannot by any means be expected to speak for such a plurality of experiences, Sobaihi’s exclusive focus on the positives feels, at times, uncomfortably propagandist.

Head Over Heels in Saudi Arabia can be seen at Spotlites @ Merchants Hall, every day until 26 August. For more information and tickets, visit the Edinburgh Fringe website.