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The Green Line | خطّ التماس
A poetic, heartbreaking story of intergenerational queer history in Lebanon, The Green Line weaves together civil war Beirut with a contemporary nightclub, following one family’s journey to discover their past. In the present day, Rami, a twentysomething queer Lebanese Canadian, has returned to the Lebanese mountains to bury his father. To cope with the weight of his grief, Rami, carrying a necklace in the shape of a phoenix left to him by his father, finds himself in a queer Beirut nightclub, where he catches the attention of a powerful drag queen named Fifi, who just so happens to be dressed as a phoenix. In 1978, in the midst of the Lebanese Civil War, Naseeb is attempting to get himself and his sister Mona out of Beirut and into the safety of the mountains. Mona, however, is secretly in love with her classmate, a woman named Yara, and refuses to leave the city. When Naseeb becomes swept up with the descending political culture of the war around him, he creates a rift between himself and Mona greater than the line that divides the country itself.
158 pages, Paperback
Published September 24, 2024
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Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
October 11, 2025
3.5, rounded down.
This recently won the Lambda Literary Award for Drama, which impelled me to read it - I TRY to read all of the finalists for this award (many never see the light of print), as I taught an LGBTQ+ theatre course at USF 25 years ago and like to keep up with contemporary gay drama.
Although, ultimately, I found this play valuable and moving, I definitely had 'issues'. I was initially so confused I had to go back and reread the beginning after getting 35 pages in. Partially this is due to the structure - although most of the play takes place within two distinct time frames (1978 and 2018), some scenes take place 'Beyond time and space', and some blend the two times together in a way I would find hard to delineate in production without the use of placards denoting such and/or lighting cues.
This is compounded by stage directions that are virtually impossible to realize on stage, e.g.: 'Memories breath to life. Time and space fractal into eternity'. Good luck conveying THAT to an audience!
Another problem is that the characters of Naseeb and Rami (one in each time frame) are designed to be played by the same actor (which was essayed by the playwright in the two most prominent productions, which I assumed was just an egocentric ploy for more stage time - but once their connection is revealed in the latter part of the play, makes sense). However, this again I think would be totally confusing on stage, unless the actor whipped on and off a pair of glasses, used different voices, or some such to delineate when he is whom.
My final issue is that much of the play breaks the 4th wall to give clunky, albeit necessary, exposition - which is my theatrical bête noire and I always detest - SHOW me, don't tell me.
Because Lambda seems to attract and award these types of 'backwater' plays (for example, the Pulitzer and Tony Award-winning Purpose: was not nominated - and was probably not even submitted), I am used to seeing somewhat lackluster plays win the award, and this is actually quite a bit better than some previous nominees and winners. I've already read fellow nominee Bathhouse.pptx and have ordered the two other available scripts, so we'll see if this indeed deserved to win.
This recently won the Lambda Literary Award for Drama, which impelled me to read it - I TRY to read all of the finalists for this award (many never see the light of print), as I taught an LGBTQ+ theatre course at USF 25 years ago and like to keep up with contemporary gay drama.
Although, ultimately, I found this play valuable and moving, I definitely had 'issues'. I was initially so confused I had to go back and reread the beginning after getting 35 pages in. Partially this is due to the structure - although most of the play takes place within two distinct time frames (1978 and 2018), some scenes take place 'Beyond time and space', and some blend the two times together in a way I would find hard to delineate in production without the use of placards denoting such and/or lighting cues.
This is compounded by stage directions that are virtually impossible to realize on stage, e.g.: 'Memories breath to life. Time and space fractal into eternity'. Good luck conveying THAT to an audience!
Another problem is that the characters of Naseeb and Rami (one in each time frame) are designed to be played by the same actor (which was essayed by the playwright in the two most prominent productions, which I assumed was just an egocentric ploy for more stage time - but once their connection is revealed in the latter part of the play, makes sense). However, this again I think would be totally confusing on stage, unless the actor whipped on and off a pair of glasses, used different voices, or some such to delineate when he is whom.
My final issue is that much of the play breaks the 4th wall to give clunky, albeit necessary, exposition - which is my theatrical bête noire and I always detest - SHOW me, don't tell me.
Because Lambda seems to attract and award these types of 'backwater' plays (for example, the Pulitzer and Tony Award-winning Purpose: was not nominated - and was probably not even submitted), I am used to seeing somewhat lackluster plays win the award, and this is actually quite a bit better than some previous nominees and winners. I've already read fellow nominee Bathhouse.pptx and have ordered the two other available scripts, so we'll see if this indeed deserved to win.
December 24, 2025
A beautiful play with the perfect ending. I saw this on stage in Toronto and the entire audience was in tears when the lights came up. It took a few scenes to understand that the actor playing Naseeb/Rami was switching timelines and settings. I can imagine this might be confusing to read without having seen the performance first.
The asides taking place beyond space and time allowed for a poetic narration that bordered on spoken word. While diegetically this rhythmic and romantic vocabulary might have felt out of place or contrived, these moments felt perfectly natural here. Ayache's playing with parallel timelines, concurrent dialogue, and the diegetic/non-diegetic felt like an allusion to our queer ancestors that have been and will always be here.
*Spoilers*
Learning that Naseeb was the parent Rami felt safe to confide in as he came into his sexuality. Re-contextualizing that fact in the wake of the play's climax... wow.
The Green Line, a very real and symbolic gash, a "demarcation for the ways the war, immigration, memory, and queerness have all cleaved through [the] body," something the characters can choose to disturb, sit in, and tend to so that they may properly remember, feel, hurt, heal, and love. Rami doing what it takes to let go of Naseeb, and Mona doing the same with Yara. We find that the freeing of their souls and salvation for all four comes through Rami and Mona uniting with the other-- a deeply personal, transformative, and emotional "coming home" into their bodies as wholly queer and Arab, on the Green Line.
"It's as if I've known her for a hundred thousand years."
The asides taking place beyond space and time allowed for a poetic narration that bordered on spoken word. While diegetically this rhythmic and romantic vocabulary might have felt out of place or contrived, these moments felt perfectly natural here. Ayache's playing with parallel timelines, concurrent dialogue, and the diegetic/non-diegetic felt like an allusion to our queer ancestors that have been and will always be here.
*Spoilers*
Learning that Naseeb was the parent Rami felt safe to confide in as he came into his sexuality. Re-contextualizing that fact in the wake of the play's climax... wow.
The Green Line, a very real and symbolic gash, a "demarcation for the ways the war, immigration, memory, and queerness have all cleaved through [the] body," something the characters can choose to disturb, sit in, and tend to so that they may properly remember, feel, hurt, heal, and love. Rami doing what it takes to let go of Naseeb, and Mona doing the same with Yara. We find that the freeing of their souls and salvation for all four comes through Rami and Mona uniting with the other-- a deeply personal, transformative, and emotional "coming home" into their bodies as wholly queer and Arab, on the Green Line.
"It's as if I've known her for a hundred thousand years."
September 14, 2025
such a beautiful quick read :)) love how you see how everything’s connected at the end
really have to visit lebanon now
really have to visit lebanon now
August 9, 2025
This is strong. Much better than the usual stuff that the LAMBDA committee nominates for awards! Ayache's play moves between time and space easily, and there's a stunning theatricality to his work here, and the end is shocking and moving.
Drag also functions in this play in interesting ways, and the drag queen character is sexy and interesting with a history and a full, rich life rather than a magical "superhero" figure who simply dispenses wisdom. I appreciated that aspect of The Green Line a lot.
Drag also functions in this play in interesting ways, and the drag queen character is sexy and interesting with a history and a full, rich life rather than a magical "superhero" figure who simply dispenses wisdom. I appreciated that aspect of The Green Line a lot.
November 2, 2024
I loved this story of queerness in a part of the world that one does not think that queerness exists. I also loved the exploration of love of land. I also love writing that includes different languages - the edition I read had the arabic text alongside the english which I loved. It would be so amazing to see this on stage.
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews