Wish You Were Here follows the lives of five friends as they navigate the upheaval of the Iranian Revolution and the Iran-Iraq War. Amid political and social turmoil, their friendships evolve, tested by the pressures of war and revolution, and the pull of emigration.
Directed by Sepy Baghaei, the drama begins in 1979 and plays out over the years of the Islamic Republic until 1991.
The play opens in a quietly intimate moment before the audience has even settled into their seats. Five young women are already on stage, lounging casually, their laughter and chatter filling the space.
The year is 1979, and the friends are preparing Salme (Emily Renée) for her wedding. She sits in the centre of the stage, dressed in her wedding gown as they take turns brushing her hair, adjusting her makeup, and exchanging mischievous, often inappropriate jokes. Through these authentic interactions, the audience is gently introduced to the distinct personalities of each woman.
“Despite the societal shifts taking place outside of their four walls, the women’s bond remains at the heart of the story — tested but never broken”
Salme is the devout bride, who radiates warmth and kindness; Shideh (Isabella Nefar) is the more serious, determined one, relentlessly pursuing her dream of becoming a doctor; Zari (Maryam Grace) is the innocent and naïve one, laughing at jokes she doesn’t always understand; Nazanin (Afsaneh Dehrouyeh) is the sharp-tongued realist, who masks her vulnerability with humour; and Rana (Juliette Motamed), equally as outspoken, and Nazanin’s closest confidante.
Together, they form a tight-knit circle that both entertains and inspires the audience.
A year later, it appears that nothing has changed. However, upon closer inspection, it becomes clear that much has shifted beneath the surface. As Zari prepares for her wedding, the mood among the women has grown quieter, and more restrained.
The laughter that once filled the room is now muted, and there is an unspoken tension. The absence of Rana is obvious and creates a void that none of them can quite bring themselves to address.
Over the next decade, the audience witnesses not only the milestone moments in the lives of the women but also the quieter, everyday moments that unfold against the backdrop of revolutionary Iran.
What makes this production truly stand out is this focus on the mundane moments — the ones that could happen anywhere, at any time. In such moments the audience witnesses the enduring beauty of the women’s relationships.
Despite the societal shifts taking place outside of their four walls, the women’s bond remains at the heart of the story — tested but never broken.
Aside from the occasional biting humour aimed at Iraq’s Saddam Hussein and the distant sounds of protest and air raid sirens, the narrative feels almost timeless, capturing the universality of female friendship and the resilience it demands.
Tomás Palmer’s set design contributes to the emotional depth of the story. The simple living room arrangement, set on a square stage, creates an intimate atmosphere that draws the audience into the women’s worlds. The understated set serves as a barrier between the women’s personal lives and the turmoil of the war raging outside.
Pouya Ehsaei’s sound design directs the narratives through the years seamlessly. Through the evocative layering of radio broadcasts, air raid sirens and iconic Iranian pop music, Ehsaei effectively captures the shifting moods of history. This is beautifully complemented by Matt Haskins’s dynamic lighting design, which goes between bridal brightness and complete darkness, mirroring what is happening out on the streets.
As time passes, the women’s contrasting perspectives on life in Iran grow increasingly pronounced. Their differing views provide a vivid window into the emotional and psychological landscape of migration and identity.
Rana, in particular, articulates a deeply resonant experience for many second-generation immigrants. Her attempts to shield her unborn daughter from the legacy of Iran, a homeland she both loves and fears, strike a universal chord. In a heartbreaking moment, as Rana wrestles with the desire to protect her child from the very roots that define her, the audience is moved to tears.
The emotional depth with which Rana conveys her struggle resonates deeply with anyone familiar with the nuanced realities of exile. The play captures the painful truth that the legacy of one’s homeland can be both a refuge and a burden, particularly for those torn between two worlds.
In contrast, Nazanin never once contemplates leaving Iran, asking herself time and time again, “Why do I not want to leave?”
Even when her dreams of becoming an engineer are shattered after universities are forced to close she still finds herself unable to imagine a life outside of her homeland.
As the play progresses, the audience watches Nazanin reluctantly follow a path she once sought to avoid — marriage and motherhood. While there is joy in these milestones, there is also an undercurrent of sadness, as she laments never having experienced love at its fullest.
In a final heart-wrenching monologue, Nazanin realises that she has, in fact, known true love — not the romantic kind she once yearned for, but the enduring love shared with the women in her life. It is an awakening that feels both tragic and redemptive, as she comes to understand that her true connection has surrounded her all along.
Rana’s closing words encapsulate the play’s central truth: “When I think about where I am from, I think about you.”
The lines, simple yet profound, reinforce the notion that home is not just a place, but the people who define it. In their laughter and their grief, these women have created a home for one another amid the chaos of revolution and war.
It is a truth that transcends borders, speaking to the universal need for connection, love, and belonging.
Wish You Were Here is on at Gate Theatre Theatro Technis, London, until 23 November.
For tickets and information head to: https://www.gatetheatre.co.uk/wish-you-were-here-uk-premiere/
The Gate was founded in 1979 with the mission to bring people together from across the world to engage with theatre, performance art and ideas
Lydia Doye is a freelance writer with a particular interest in arts and culture from the Middle East and North Africa
Follow her on X: @LDoye_Journo
