Letters of Suresh review: Rajiv Joseph’s play spotlights a forgotten art form in post-Covid era

Joseph was a finalist for the 2010 Pulitzer Prize for Drama for his play Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo, which tells the story of a tiger that wanders the streets of present-day Baghdad to find the meaning of life. Letters of Suresh is a companion play to Animals Out of Papers, a quirky comedy about an origami artist, who comes to the realisation that life and love cannot be neatly folded into different compartments.

It begins with the first letter from Melody Park, a Japanese-Korean teacher based in Seattle, who introduces herself as the grand-niece of Father Hashimoto (H). She writes to Suresh Thakur, a young man who lives in New York City to inform him about the passing of her grand-uncle at 93, in his seminary in Nagasaki, Japan. She speaks of a box of letters from Thakur to Father Hashimoto that she wishes to send back.

Letters and spirit

Nearly everything we know about the characters is through these letters. We learn that Suresh is a genius with a rare talent for origami. We hear of Park’s partly estranged family, and Father Hashimoto’s accounts of the atomic bomb in Nagasaki. 

There are some missed connections and some unlikely ones. Father Hashimoto first met Thakur while he was at an origami convention in Nagasaki. Overcome with emotion, he felt compelled to write to the 18-year-old boy. He received Suresh’s address from the organisation, which explains the use of letters over email or phone calls. There’s also another connection, between origami and letters, both render pieces of paper more meaningful.

Letters of Suresh has no dialogue between actors, save for one FaceTime conversation. It also spans over a decade with responses to some of the letters coming years later. A lot goes on in the lives of the addressees but their narratives are centred on the themes of love, loss, and spirituality.

Keeping it bare

Feroz Abbas Khan, who has worked with letters before, in his production of Tumhari Amrita with actors Shabana Azmi and Farooq Sheikh, isn’t unfamiliar with the concept. He approaches it with ease and a sense of bareness that cuts through the sets, design, and dialogue. The text, he maintains, is the star here.

This contrasts with Abbas Khan’s last few productions Mughal-E-Azam and The Great Indian Musical, with large casts, choreographed dance sequences, and larger-than-life sets and costumes. He wants you to take notice of these bare choices while you continue to focus on the words.

The cast features Palomi Ghosh as Melody Park, Harssh Singh as Father Hashimoto, Radhika Sawhney as Amelia, and debutant Vir Hirani as Suresh. It’s a fitting one with a mix of experienced and newly-minted actors. They take turns on stage narrating these letters directly to the audience without a piece of paper. They are real, one-sided conversations and a tight script ensures you seldom lose context.

Making a connection

Ghosh’s portrayal of Melody Park is empathetic and captivating. Her rigour and on-stage training shine through like a guiding light anchoring the play. Despite her peripheral connection to the central exchange between Suresh and Father H, it is Park’s commentary that helps the audience immerse in this otherwise unusual tale. The depth, the humour, and the honesty of this layered character are on full display to experience and understand. In Park’s letters, most of the few laughs in the play are delivered.

As the story progresses, we are introduced to a young Suresh at 18, writing/ performing in a language one would easily associate with a Gen Z boy. He is casual, easily triggered, and lacks self-awareness. Suresh’s early letters are set in a rhythm that belongs in a rap track. Hirani owns the role, looks the part, and delivers his lines easily. You are almost relieved an older actor wasn’t made to mouth these parts. 

Suresh’s story and Father Hashimoto’s come to light through the former’s letters. Father H is spiritual and insists on praying for Suresh’s recently deceased mother. Suresh, on the other hand, rejects the concept of heaven and hell, terming himself a Hindu and an atheist at once.

Amelia (Radhika Sawhney), one of Suresh’s many older love interests, appears twice, once on a FaceTime conversation, and then with a letter of her own. A real chat between two people is a much-needed break in structure although the scene between Hirani and Sawhney fails to strike an emotional chord.

Staying with the narrative

Abbas Khan stays clear of trickery and sticks to the storytelling format without attempting to recreate the surroundings or the scenes. The stage design is simplistic, too, with two benches and a writing table. The latter is seldom used to write the many letters that the play is made up of. The light design is inconsistent and fails to elevate a play that relies on monologues. The sound, despite its sync with the emotional arc of the telling, is ineffective and overused at best.

Joseph’s play hangs in the delicate balance between cultures, themes, and timelines. As it unravels, it narrows down on the human experience of its diverse characters. The progression of the narrative is gentle, and one may struggle to point at the climax. This truly is the beauty of a text that is confident, layered, and deeply emotional.

Team NMACC’s production often comes off as a flat depiction of a path-breaking original work, and its impact is highly dependent on the actors. Harssh Singh’s portrayal of Father H’s struggles with faith and love is drawn out in a beautiful scene towards the end of the play. It remains the most memorable performance in Letters of Suresh.

The progression of age and time is barely convincing and one struggles to situate the timelines in the real world. In a scene where Suresh makes a startling revelation, the light design aims for sinister but comes off as flashy and reminiscent of a 90s discotheque.

The pacing is inconsistent and the play struggles to find its feet well into the second half. Hirani is endearing as an 18-year-old Suresh but struggles with the nuances of the character at 28.

Letters of Suresh intrigues you with its fascinating characters, draws you in with an able cast, but leaves you wanting more. Quite like the characters in the play, you are left yearning for a connection.