Everything about this show exudes confidence. Asif Khan as an actor and Hassan Abdulrazzak as a writer know how to use mannerisms and words to play their audience. Khan took on 3 characters (the original play had 4) and in turn took us through their obsessions. Each character had depth, impeccable comic timing and a story that linked them to the Love, Bombs and Apples title. From Palestine, to a Pakistani in East Acton to Bradford, we are invited into the minds of how Muslim men feel they are being seen. A narrative that is often missing from the stage. This play takes control of perceptions and plays on them.

We start off with a Palestinian actor talking about sex. I am reminded of numerous Palestinian stories about how Palestine to Palestinians is just home. The everyday still carries on while the outside world and 1001 NGO’s (as Khan’s character puts it) see it differently and take pity on its inhabitants. This character’s obsession with sex and love was incredibly relatable and though at times came across as crude, the humour and timing of the jokes helped us join the character in their emotional drive. Privilege in the play, especially that of his lovers, was not something that the character shied away from. I am grateful to Abdulrazzak for writing the characters this way and giving a platform to the injustices that take place in Palestine without heavily relying on ‘the struggle’ to carry the narrative. With the brazenness of only someone who could carry on having sex while Israeli guards watched, the Palestinian actor spoke of his lovers’ privilege and how here in Palestine, that didn’t matter. ‘You move, they shoot you.’

The second character was by far my favourite of the three. Khan played Saajid Abdul Abdul Abdul, a writer obsessed with terrorism and bombs. Going through the many struggles most writers do e.g. balancing research with actual writing, Saajid takes us through his motivations for writing what in essence is a manual for bomb making. He brings to the forefront the difficulties that are presented within the UK criminal justice system, highlighting key changes to the counter terrorism legislation. Khan’s depiction of this character, a young aloof Pakistani man brings another layer to the debate moving through British media about how long we can keep a man in prison without charging him. Currently it stands on 14 days and as Saajid says, this length of time is not enough for a writer who just wants some peace and quiet. The detail with which Abdulrazzak writes his characters comes through in the acting, leaving us with characters that are not only believable but enjoyable to watch too.

The third character presented to us in Love, Bombs and Apples is probably the most in your face of the three. A man, young and disenfranchised led to believe that ISIS and similar terror networks can and in fact do give better options to young muslim men than the UK presently does. From claiming that Apple adverts are like mosque sermons to claiming that there was a government conspiracy behind the recent arrival of a Westfield’s in Bradford, this character was humorous and offered us an alternative perspective on the the reasons young men ‘go to Syria to fight’.

Abdulrazzak has a way with words and an ability to make audiences question whether or not they are allowed to laugh. Khan’s acting sold it. His ability to not be afraid of the audience and interact with them allowed them to feel comfortable enough to laugh with the men making seemingly ludacris claims. A show that must not be missed.

Love, Bombs and Apples played at Summerhall until August 27. For more information, go to https://edinburghfestival.list.co.uk/event/832769-love-bombs-and-apples/