Drama Queens, a five-star arts journal focusing on female artists

The play follows a queer couple, Omeed and Afshar, navigating their relationship while living under a regime that criminalizes same-sex acts, with some offenses carrying the death penalty. Set in Iran, it opens with the two men making plans to leave for France, a land they see as a sanctuary where they can love openly. The script draws on real-life interviews with over 30 LGBTQ+ Iranians who have lived under the same rule, fought for their personal freedom, or fled the country entirely.

For the protagonists of Omeed’s Tapestries, to love is to sacrifice. There are clear heroes and villains, but before the play can slip into a didactic message about morality, it reminds you that all LGBTQ+ love here involves sacrifice. To Omeed and Afshar, a kiss means a night behind bars; a hand on a knee means the relentless strokes of a cane. To love is to sacrifice your humanity. By using the full spread of the stage to run concurrent scenes — a clandestine birthday party set alongside a sterile office, a confrontation in a shop beside a hate crime in the open — the production makes the audience feel the panopticon that never lets Omeed and Afshar out of sight. They were doomed from the moment they shared that first kiss, but still you hold your breath, believing their sacrifice might move the other characters — the judge, the police officers, the neighbors — to help them. The intensity never lets up, and the ending crushes you even if you sensed it coming.

Despite the play’s limited space and props, the director makes full use of the actors, the stage, the script, and the lighting, transporting the audience to the streets of Iran — or more precisely, to Omeed’s shop. The collaboration between director, playwright, actors, and production crew is evident throughout, and the collision of their creative forces is brilliant, entertaining, and sobering all at once.