Saints of Damour

Saints of Damour is an epic love story following one man’s journey from Lebanon to Australia while navigating love, family, loss and grief. Pierre is a humble tomato farmer in Damour, spending his days at the market while staring at the sea, longing for a future that will never come.

Like a crashing wave Samir enters his life and nothing will ever be the same again. As their love blooms so does the war that will rip them apart and see long buried truths come to the surface as Pierre tries his utmost to be the man that his mother, wife and lover want him to be.

James Elazzi’s script unfolds the layers of Pierre’s life with honesty and unwavering determination, revealing a world void of prose but in its place is a harsh reality of complex families, patriarchal expectations of men, racism and the will to survive. This approach to the story does however leave little room for nuance and often means that the script dips too often into cliché and overwrought troupes.

Anthony Skuse’s direction only goes so far to add life to the script, with dynamic moments falling flat and actors needlessly busying themselves on stage rather than holding space and connecting to the text. Skuse seems to actively work against the set and space, grouping performers awkwardly in corners of the room or using set pieces in a way that distracts rather than enhances the space and story.

The ensemble of Antony Makhlouf, Deborah Galanos, Saro Lepejian, Nicole Chamoun and Max Cattana work delightfully well together, creating beautiful and heart-breaking moments. Although these moments draw the audience in, there is an unfortunate lack of energy and connection to character that keeps the work at arms length. The ensemble never seem to reach a deep emotional rapport with their characters, rather remaining surface level in their portrayal and stilted and wooden due to the lacklustre direction.

James Smithers’ costumes are a triumph, detailing not only the passage of time but they bring a level of personality and whimsy to each character that is sorely needed and their set is simple and manages to open the intimate space, though it does lack a refinement and sense of play. Sam Wylie’s lighting design is a sumptuous mix of light and shade, with bursts of colour and tone bringing depth and pathos to the work.

It might not have been the intention of Elazzi when creating the work but the second act gives way to a troubling narrative – as Pierre finds his way more and more into the gay world of Sydney, he gives himself over to a hedonistic life and in doing so becomes somewhat more reckless.

Pierre begins to embrace the nightlife, engaging in drug use and promiscuous sex with many partners, and it is here that the perhaps unintentional moral quandary. The story leads Pierre to a fatal end, as if punishing him for his actions and his insinuating that a life outside of a heteronormative relationship will lead to HIV and death.

It is an unsettling cliché that the lives of all gay men in the 80s led to AIDS and death and this work ultimately does little to change this, choosing instead to lean in and use this narrative in a manipulative and questionable way.