Belvoir St Theatre is thrilled to present A Mirror, a smart new hit play about art versus power, premiering on 21 February and starring Eden Falk, Faisal Hamza, Yalin Ozucelik and Rose Riley.
Written by Sam Holcroft and directed by Margaret Thanos, this sharp comedy skewers theatre, politics, war, egotism and bureaucracy. It was first presented at the Almeida Theatre in London in 2023 and transferred to Trafalgar Theatre in 2024.
The Scoop sat down with Faisal Hamza, who plays Adem, a mechanic who’s written a play. In a riveting extended interview, Faisal reflects on finding purpose through theatre and navigating the tension between safety and artistic integrity. Read the full interview below.
Can you tell us a little about A Mirror for readers who might not be familiar with the play, and how your character fits into the story?
A Mirror is a play within a play! The audience is invited to the wedding of Leyla and Joel, which is in fact a front for an illegal theatrical production. In the world of the play, there exists a Ministry of Culture, which must approve a play via licence before it is staged.
Unfortunately, the play our group of dissidents want to stage is a little too controversial and revealing for the Ministry. So, they use a wedding as a front to bring an audience together to stage their play.
Basically, they’re looking for any way around the law to gather a large group of people without raising suspicion. The play is exciting in that the audience is a character alongside us – within this society, they are citizens engaging with a radical underground theatre movement.
In terms of the play within the play, I play Adem. He’s a young veteran turned mechanic who is summoned to the ministry after submitting his first playscript. However, what he’s written lands him in far hotter circumstances than he could’ve imagined.
That explains it so well! It sounds like it’s going to be a unique experience. You’ve written two full-length original plays of your own, and you’re now portraying a young playwright navigating power, censorship and compromise. How much of Adem feels familiar to you as a writer, not just as an actor?
Back when I wrote those plays, I worked at a cinema whilst studying engineering full-time. I wasn’t the most stimulated or inspired by my studies.
At the cinema we had floor shifts, where you were responsible for cleaning and ushering. On a late-night shift, you’d stay back at the podium with a manager in the office until midnight, or just after, and usher out the last sessions before closing up. As you can imagine, those shifts could get pretty existential pretty quickly.
But things were different when I was writing. I had something that inspired me. It occupied all my thoughts; it stole all my attention. It stimulated me, gave me an opportunity to express, create, daydream, fantasise, explore, and filled me with a sense of purpose and relief.
I’d tear out bits of receipt paper and jot down ideas in between cleans and during long spells at the podium. It was a very specific, very purposeful, very engrossing feeling. Whilst exploring Adem’s world, I’ve returned to that feeling a lot.
Writing is so much fun, but yes, it does tend to steal all your attention! Does stepping into Adem’s shoes make you more empathetic to the compromises artists sometimes make, or more stubborn about protecting your own voice?
We’re forced into compromise all the time. People, in every field I think, constantly find themselves at a crossroad between morals, beliefs and livelihood. I’ve got nothing but empathy for how the systems we live in force us to contort in ways we find uncomfortable, just to make a living.
Holding ourselves to an impossibly pure standard is not the healthiest, or most sustainable way, to grow strength as a community. Of course, I believe there are things you should stand for no matter what, and I think life is easier when we can rally and stand around those things together, both as a community of artists, and beyond in our neighbourhoods, unions, community groups, etc.
It’s an interesting question in terms of artists working today given Israel’s ongoing genocide against Palestinians and its illegal occupation of their land. We have seen constantly how the livelihood of artists has been threatened for taking a pretty basic moral stance against this. The cases are endless.
I’ve got nothing but support and solidarity for all those artists, and I hope we can organise more effectively as a community to stand alongside each other. In this piece, a favourite subplot of mine is seeing how Adem’s dreams come alive as a team forms around him. It really does make the dreamwork!
Adem, like many of us, takes an opportunity that offers what he absolutely needs: space to learn, mentorship, and the chance to one day stage his work for an audience. Familiarly, it threatens his artistic intentions. I think I have a lot to learn from what unfolds after.
Do you see Adem as naïve, hopeful, strategic… or all three at once?
He’s all by necessity! He’s so new to this process, very well intentioned, and a little naïve as to the processes of the Ministry. When he meets the Director of the Ministry, he is completely sincere and honest. I think that’s very strategic – to demonstrate you are someone who represents no harm.
I think he absolutely has hopes of staging his play and sharing it with his community. When he’s offered the opportunity to learn and develop his craft, he accepts it enthusiastically. This outlet is a lifeline for him, and in there is a tremendous amount of hope.
What do you hope audiences leave thinking about after seeing A Mirror? Do you think this play will land differently for younger artists or early-career creatives?
I hope they’re inspired not just to think but to talk about it with their friends, family, and other punters! I think it’ll land differently for everyone.
I hope it inspires conversations about the systems in place for developing and programming art that we currently have. Are leaders who act in good faith capable of reforming systems that don’t prioritise meaningful artistic expression? Or do they inevitably become what the system empowers them to be?
How does theatre become political? How politically should it then behave? How do politics and story structure overlap? And therefore, how does education become political? And more, and more. I’ve got my thoughts and questions and am excited to chat about them with audiences.
In your NIDA bio, you mention (on behalf of your mum!) that you’re technically on “approved leave” from your Engineering degree, which I love. I’m curious about how you made the transition from the engineering path to the ‘approved’ performer path — it sounds like it might have been a bumpy ride.
Haha yes – I have actually since graduated with my Bachelor of Science! Mum was stoked. All throughout my degree I was involved with the University Dramatic Society (UDS), the drama club on campus. I thought studying Engineering would put performing on pause, but as soon as I learned about the club, I joined.
There I was involved in an original student production every semester across a variety of roles on and off stage. When I say original, I mean it at every level. We did everything – writing, producing, directing, lighting, marketing, costume, props, performing, crewing, and more. This was an invaluable experience. I made many lifelong friends, worked alongside incredible creatives and it deepened my passion for the arts.
Through my degree I auditioned for NIDA a bunch of times and kept getting knocked back. I guess those two things helped me realise how badly I wanted to do this as a career. It was something I could fail at yet never lose my desire, and I always needed to do it.
Eventually I bothered NIDA enough times that they figured it’d be easier to let me in, and it provided a great scaffolding for me to learn more about craft and industry.
What advice would you give to young people wanting to pursue a creative life, whether that’s filmmaking, acting, or playwriting?
Maaaannnnn, I dunno. I get too stressed about specifics to give useful general advice so I’m going to say what I would tell myself at the start of NIDA: when you compare yourself with others in a quest to be the best, it will obstruct your ability to be dextrous and share the story.
Connect with what actually matters to you, and it’s okay if that’s a bit muddy or unclear, or there are reasons you think are negative and embarrassing. That’s right now. Be honest with yourself and decide what doesn’t matter. Give yourself time to explore it freely and connect with people, history, and your surroundings.
Nerves are not a bad sign, and you are not the only person in the world to have felt them. Bravery is what you do when you feel them, so be brave. Be comfortable with discomfort and let love lead. I’m gonna say it again: let love lead.
Also join the union and keep up to date with the news. And read history and drink water. And call Mum on the weekends, it’ll make you both really happy.
I love that! And finally, are there any roles, stories or shows on your bucket list?
Where do I start?? Last year I was super inspired by shows like Daytime Deewane, Cruise, Jacky, Sistren, and Ruins. They were all distinctly theatrical experiences across different forms styles that explored topics I found stimulating, humanising and extremely resonant.
I’d love to do something in the spirit of those shows, especially exploring work that engages with Palestinian justice, contemporary Australian issues (especially the mining industry!), and modern Muslim identity and issues.
In terms of screen, oh man. If I could one day pull off something like Taste of Cherry or be in something like The Dupes or Cleo from 5 to 7 or Network, I’d be really happy with myself. But even that list feels way too narrow. There’s so much you don’t know or forget to mention, right? The coolest thing may be something you don’t expect or ever saw coming. So, I’m really excited for whatever Allah (swt) brings. Hopefully, I can be part of some pretty cool shit.
Faisal Hamza appears in A Mirror, running 21 February to 22 March at the Upstairs Theatre, Belvoir St Theatre, Surry Hills NSW 2010.
Tickets: https://my.belvoir.com.au/overview/14646
Website: https://belvoir.com.au/productions/a-mirror/
Socials: https://www.instagram.com/belvoirst/
Photo credits: Brett Boardman
