Performance Review: IRAQ, BUT FUNNY by Atra Asdou
By
Suzi Elnaggar
Published:
December 1, 2025
Sometimes, you can judge a book by its cover, and rarely, a thing is precisely what it says on the tin. This is one of those moments because Iraq, But Funny is indeed very funny. The second play in the comeback season of the nationally recognized and Tony Award-winning regional ensemble theatre, Lookingglass Theatre Company, Iraq, But Funny is a meta-theatrical romp through Iraqi history, from the fall of the Ottoman Empire to the present day. In her world premiere at Lookingglass Theatre, playwright and performer Atra Asdou, a company ensemble member, accomplishes what every theatre artist dreams of – putting on stage a deeply personal story that audiences connect with across demographics and experiences.
Iraq, But Funny is a meta, satirical, and incisive caper through the family tree of an Assyrian family, intertwining with the larger narrative of Iraq's history. This sharp comedy covers such (not) easy subjects as Mandatory Iraq and Palestine, the Iran-Iraq war, and the displacement of the Assyrian people -- and is genuinely side-splittingingly funny throughout. The initial storyteller is The English Gentleman (goes by TEG), a colonial officer from the British army stationed in Iraq at the turn of the century. TEG is brilliantly played by writer Atra Asdou, who showcases her comedic chops as the pouty, mustachioed meanie attempting to write himself into the narrative of Iraq. However, his efforts to demonstrate his colonial acumen (and perhaps get stationed somewhere more tropical! Like Papua New Guinea!) are interrupted by five generations of an Assyrian Iraqi family who refuse to let him tell Iraq’s story. Younger and older versions of the mother/daughters are played by Susaan Jamshidi and Gloria Imseih Petrelli, both excellent in their roles as matriarchs and rebels who boldly speak their minds. James Rana and Sima Pooresmaeil portray the husbands and fathers in alternating roles, also stellar. Not to be outshone by the locals, TEG puts on quite a show to entertain and educate the audience (and occasionally cajoles them into participation), while slowly losing control as the narrative travels in time through the history of Iraq.
Maintaining a booked multi-week run in Lookingglass’s 200+ seat theatre, Iraq, But Funny challenges both dominant narratives and the ones that tell them, no matter how charming or winsome they are (or think they are in TEG’s case). In the role of TEG, Asdou is the funnybone and connective tissue of the show, bringing an impotent, yet dangerous frustration to TEG’s turn strutting the boards. She utilizes her comedy skills to their full measure, incorporating audience interaction, song and dance numbers, and multiple costume changes (which occur atop TEG’s colonial fatigues and include a moment of double-gender-bending hilarity as TEG impersonates Jennifer Coolidge). TEG seems to control all aspects of the show, from the lights to the sound, a conceit that works well to demonstrate the actual power of the diminutive gent as a representative of colonial power. He reads the welcome and instructions to the audience at the top, establishing the metatheatrical stance of Iraq, But Funny from jump. However, the beating heart is the Assyrian Iraqi family, who are based on amalgamations of tales and people from Asdou’s own family history. The balance of these two aspects, the funny, educational mode of TEG and the moving, real pain of a family surviving at the edges of his monologues is what makes Iraq, But Funny stand out.
Asdou and her collaborators do not hesitate to go deep and difficult with their journey through history, exploring with humor some of Iraq’s and the Assyrian people's darkest moments. The family joins the narrative, stepping on stage from a photograph of fleeing Assyrians displaced around the turn of the century, which TEG projects on the back wall doors as he monologues; the excellent projection design in the show, done by Michael Salvatore Commendatore, is essential to making the complex century of history parseable for the audience. Iraq, But Funny purposefully centers the Iraqi Assyrian experience as the diasporic team of Asdou (writer) and Dalia Ashurina (director, who was involved with the script since an early workshop at Lookingglass) shows obvious care in their portrayal of Iraqi people. The Lookingglass playwright-led devised ensemble approach is evident, as it feels like every aspect of the production is firing on all cylinders. While the narrative focus is on one Assyrian family in Iraq, But Funny weaves in the diversity of Iraq and its neighbors, mentioning Jewish, Muslim, Arab, Persian, and other communities; Asdou and her collaborators do not shy away from historical moments of conflict among these different groups of people, but continually bring the narrative back to the colonial and interventionist policies of the West, embodied by the clownish TEG. While Iraq, But Funny includes many moments of Middle Eastern and Iraqi history that may be unfamiliar to the average American audience, it never feels bogged down or pedantic, even at its current two-hour and thirty-minute runtime with an intermission.
Beginning with the regional alliance with the British against the Ottomans, each generation of the Assyrian family is forced to uproot their lives in a constant struggle for survival. Drawing from that initial moment, Iraq, But Funny argues that history is complexly intertwined and recursive. Significant points of Levantine history are covered, including the Mandates, both Mandatory Palestine and Iraq (originally Mesopotamia). I especially applaud the choice to include Mandatory Palestine, as well as the British promise to grant it and other parts of the Levant to the Arab people in return for assistance against the Ottomans. Asdou pulls out all the stops to keep the levity going during the Palestine segment (the Jennifer Coolidge moment occurs here) while never punching down or shying away. In this moment, and others, she fulfills her philosophy that laughter “is a very vulnerable and rebellious act”, necessary for survival amid genocide and displacement. As a scholar familiar with these histories, I know how easy it would have been to focus solely on Iraq and tiptoe around the rest, while still including Faisal. However, the choice to include Palestine is what led me to realize that this show was special; Asdou, her collaborators, and Lookingglass should be commended for their artistic integrity and authenticity by not taking the easy way out in the sake of audience appeal. Iraq, But Funny does a lot in terms of historical narrative, including informing many Americans who are still unaware of the harm caused by the policies of the Mandates, which have echoed forward in Iraqi history, and by extension, also Palestine.
To successfully strike a balance between fact and story, Asdou and her collaborators jaunt through about a century of Iraq’s history, stopping at pivotal moments to ground the audience and draw connections, often using projections of historical photographs and videos, hilariously narrated by TEG. These moments include Faisal, as mentioned above, and the establishment of the Kingdom of Iraq, the rise of the Ba’ath Party, and subsequently, Saddam Hussein, including a focus on the Iraq-Iran War, as well as the 2003 Invasion of Iraq under George W. Bush. The Iraq-Iran War is given plenty of room as a zanily staged boxing match featuring the two female actors, Jamshidi and Petrelli, in paste-on mustaches and beards, fully kitted out in an on-stage ring, egged on by TEG (of course). As the Assyrian family later emigrates through the immigration lottery, Asdou cleverly brings the United States into focus as TEG jumps across the pond, reveling in gaudy Americana garbed in a bedazzled blue jumpsuit and cowboy hat. Atrou states that her impetus towards comedy is to honor those who came before her, who used humor to survive in incomprehensible tragedy, while also inviting the audience to grow comfortable with topics usually reserved for “Very Serious Plays” (Playbill; Iraq, But Funny).
The greatest demonstration of the success of Iraq, But Funny, is that I had so many different people recommend it to me before I slid into a (packed) 2:30 pm showing on a Thursday during the last week of its run. I have rarely seen a show about the SWANA region receive such universal praise. First, I had a good friend and theatre artist from the Levantine region tell me that I had to see the show. They felt it was one of the best productions they had seen this year. Then, a non-theatre industry acquaintance rushed to tell me about it; they had tagged along with a friend and had no idea what to expect (in fact, they revealed their only other theatrical experience was a recent jukebox musical). In their words, they had never realized theatre could be so funny while being so current and incisive. Finally, not a recommendation to me, but to the world, I overheard two older white patrons gushing after the show that they felt the show could be on Broadway. Iraq, But Funny possesses the ultimate power to amuse, thrill, and engage multiple audiences as a genuinely good play that people feel compelled to recommend. It has received rave reviews, and just recently, three regional Jeff Awards for Atra Asdou as Performer In A Principal Role; Michael Salvatore Commendatore for Projection Design; and recognition for Asdou as a writer for New Work - The Libby Adler Mages Award (57th Anniversary Jeff Awards For Equity Theaters Announced).
Cutting past everything outside the stage, the heart of Iraq, But Funny is the Assyrian Iraqi family story. The focus on the imperative “to live for the next generation,” as well as the struggle of each woman to conform to her parents' values comes to fruition as the final generation (corresponding to present day) breaks the cycle, realizing that it is also permissible to live for herself, as well as for those who came before and those who will come after. This generational story of sacrifice and longing, staged with aplomb by Asdou and her collaborators, is profoundly moving to me as a diasporic Egyptian, and I believe it has resonated with the SWANA and other marginalized communities. Asdou says, “I hope that [the audience] learn something, and most of all, I hope no matter their background, that they see themselves, which means they see the human in themselves and each other. That they see their stories in us. And that Assyrians see themselves. I really hope I make them proud”(Playbill; Iraq, But Funny). With Iraq, But Funny Atra Asdou and Lookingglass accomplish something rare—a culturally specific, timely show that covers difficult topics and draws in many types of audiences.
lookingglasstheatre.org/event/iraq-but-funny/
lookingglasstheatre.org/iraq-but-funny-playbill/
From the June 7, 2025 press release by Lookingglass Theatre Company:
"When you think of Iraq, you don't usually think of comedy. I started writing Iraq, But Funny four years ago because I needed a place to put my family's stories and wanted to share a side of my people audiences rarely see: their sense of humor,” said Playwright Atra Asdou. "Iraq, But Funny explores the cyclical nature of mother/daughter and familial/generational relationships and how they relate to the cyclical nature of invasions, war and world history. And who better to give voice to Assyrian women than a British guy who narrates the whole thing. I'm also in the cast of Iraq, But Funny and we hope to make you laugh, learn and feel like you're part of the family, too. Who knew colonialism could be so fun!"
Bibliography, References & Endnotes
lookingglasstheatre.org/event/iraq-but-funny/
lookingglasstheatre.org/iraq-but-funny-playbill/
From the June 7, 2025 press release by Lookingglass Theatre Company:
"When you think of Iraq, you don't usually think of comedy. I started writing Iraq, But Funny four years ago because I needed a place to put my family's stories and wanted to share a side of my people audiences rarely see: their sense of humor,” said Playwright Atra Asdou. "Iraq, But Funny explores the cyclical nature of mother/daughter and familial/generational relationships and how they relate to the cyclical nature of invasions, war and world history. And who better to give voice to Assyrian women than a British guy who narrates the whole thing. I'm also in the cast of Iraq, But Funny and we hope to make you laugh, learn and feel like you're part of the family, too. Who knew colonialism could be so fun!"
About The Author(s)
Suzi Elnaggar
Northwestern University; Freelance Dramaturg
Suzi Elnaggar is an Egyptian American performance scholar, freelance dramaturg, and theatre maker. She was a 2021 Kennedy Center Dramaturgy Intensive Fellow and works as a developmental and community-focused dramaturg. Her work has been published in Asian Theatre Journal, Arab Stages, Review: The Journal of Dramaturgy, and Theatre Times. Her interests include exploring postcolonial theatre contexts, decoloniality in performance, the intersection of trauma and performance, transnational and migrant stories, recontextualizing Greek tragedy, myths, and folklore, and exploring work that centers on Southwest Asian and North African (SWANA) experiences. Suzi’s scholarship and practice center community, collaboration, and context.
As a dramaturg, she is experienced in both production and developmental work. She is the artistic director of Backstitch Story Project, and the founder and creative director of the Digital Development Project. She has read scripts for PlayPenn, Playwright’s Center, Rattlestick’s Van Lier New Voices Fellowship, SHE-LA, and Sparkfest, among many others. Selected dramaturgy credits (Production & Developmental Workshops): Avalanche Theatre’s Next Draft series and Grape Leaves, Silk Road’s Shahadat; Backstitch Story Arts’ Off-White: The Arab House Party Play; Clamour Theatre’s Lived Experience; TACTICS Ottawa’s ANANSI V. GOD(S); Jubilee Theatre Waco’s Fairview (Texas Premiere); Wild Imaginings’ Jesus and Valium (World Premiere), The Way He Looks at You, Cardboard Castles Hung on Walls (World Premiere); Northwestern University Theatre’s The Great Sea Serpent (Workshop Premiere).
Arab Stages is devoted to broadening international awareness and understanding of the theatre and performance cultures of the Arab-Islamic world and of its diaspora.
The journal appears twice yearly in digital form by the Martin E. Segal Theatre Center of New York and is a joint project of that Center and of the Arabic Theatre Working Group of the International Federation for Theatre Research.
