Content warning: This article describes violence and mentions sexual violence.
Birds sing, and light from a window passes through a pale ghost, reflecting off glistening brown skin. Naznin lies on her bed, listening to soft rock. The spirit rises up from her fetal position, and her two roommates begin quarrelling about the music.
Victoria College Drama Society’s (VCDS) 71 explores less common forms of love: love for a language, culture, and homeland. Written and directed by fourth-year immunology and drama major Mashreka Mahmood, the play follows Dhaka University student Naznin (Fifi Chowdhury), her friends and family, and a petulant Victorian ghost (Artemis Reidmueller) as she navigates her role during the Bangladesh Liberation War of 1971 — the year that gives the play its title.
Before the war, modern-day Bangladesh— then known as “East Pakistan” — was part of Pakistan. For three decades, the more politically dominant region of West Pakistan culturally marginalized and economically exploited the region. Rising tensions between the region culminated in a nationalist uprising, during which Operation Searchlight — a brutal military campaign by the West Pakistani junta — resulted in the death and displacement of millions of Bengalis. Bangladesh ultimately declared independence in December 1971.
What stood out from the very first scene was the production’s captivating atmosphere. Despite being performed on a black box stage, the sound of birdsong, delicate lighting, the clinking of cooking utensils, and the noise of rickshaws and spirited protest — combined with a rich array of props — lent itself to an immersive, nostalgic experience.
The play follows the charismatic 21-year-old Naznin as she grapples with her identity and family responsibilities while joining a militia group at her university. When a demonstration goes awry, the invading Pakistani army abducts her. After managing to escape, she seeks refuge with a rural Bengali family before the invading army tragically murders them too. Naznin stabs the infiltrators and escapes once more. Upon returning to her house in Dhaka, she finds no one home.
The Varsity spoke with Mahmood about why this story mattered to her. “My grandfather was a freedom fighter. He doesn’t like to talk about it. Part of it is the trauma, but part of it is that he doesn’t think it’s important for us to know,” she shared. “I grew up in Bangladesh, and it’s an important time we’re taught about every year.”
71 featured emotionally intense portrayals of the war’s violence and brutality, immersing viewers in its harrowing reality. Among the most devastating moments is Naznin’s abduction, which marks her as a victim of one of the most horrific instances of mass sexual violence in recent history. This raw intensity culminates in Chowdhury and Reidmueller’s hauntingly sincere and fearful exchange during the prison scene in a devastating back and forth.
While I initially questioned the effectiveness of the unsubtle ‘colonial ghost’ character, the thoughtful handling of the role and Reidmueller’s compelling performance convinced me of the character’s importance to the story.
The show effectively portrayed the horror of sexual violence without restoring to vulgarity or compromising the grace of the performances for mere shock value. “The people that understand, understand,” said Mahmood.
Despite its grand historical setting, the play focuses on Naznin’s personal experiences of nationhood. After escaping from her abductors, she takes refuge in the home of a rural Bengali family. Her time with the family gives us a heartfelt look at the Hindu-Muslim fraternity. Here, we get a few serene moments as Mother (Tasnimah Ahmed Aria) oils Naznin’s hair on the porch.
We learn in the show that one of the great motivators for the uprising against the Pakistani state was the Bangladeshi people’s struggle for the legitimacy of their language, which had been suppressed in official capacities.
It was a powerful decision, then, to have much of the play performed in Bangla, with — at times, inconveniently placed — captions projected for the audiences to read. Interestingly, scenes performed in English were also given subtitles in Bangla.
“Finding a Bengali speaking cast was the biggest challenge… Most of the cast are on stage for the first time.” Unfortunately, this was apparent in some moments. Despite not speaking the language, I could sense the hesitancy of some actors — both linguistically and dramatically.
While the decision to incorporate so many scenes in Bangla was imaginative and somewhat bold, parts of the extended cast seemed visibly uncomfortable on stage. Sacrificing acting ability for language proficiency, or vice-versa may have been worth it — but to settle was mediocrity in both I felt, was not a good decision.
Still, some first-timers managed to pull themselves together, delivering respectable performances during key emotional scenes. Sheikh Nihal Muzib, as Baba, was bumbling and aloof when needed, yet powerfully captured the pain of a father limping through the rubble, desperately calling out for his daughter, whom he would never see again.
Editor’s Note: The article has been amended due to factual errors. It has corrected director Mashreka Mahmood’s year and majors, which were originally written as “third-year psychology and drama major.” Additionally, the actor of Baba has been changed to Sheikh Nihal Muzib, who stepped in during opening night in lieu of David Omar’s absence.
