Jane Park, Contributing Photographer

Ever get that feeling? When a strange tinge of nostalgia pinches your heart, when your mind unconsciously leaps to a name, when you miss someone — what do you do? Letters to different college mailing addresses can be sent. Spontaneous FaceTimes and cold-calls that go on for way too long can be made. Pierson-to-Timothy Dwight treks can be walked. 

But in the aftermath of a political revolution, when friends, opportunities and normalcy are ruthlessly ripped away from you, what more can you say, other than “wish you were here?” 

Sanaz Toossi’s 2021 play “Wish You Were Here,” tells the story of five young women in 1978 Iran and the heartache that follows their attempts to protect their friendships across time, sea and revolution. It premiered at the Yale Repertory Theatre on Thursday, Oct. 5. 

While the play initially focuses on five women — Nazanin, Rana, Salme, Zari and Shideh — Nazanin becomes the central character as the audience witnesses Nazanin grapple with the departures of the other four women. 

The show opens with these 20-something year olds raucously and excitedly attending to their soon-to-be-wed friend, Salme. Her friends fuss over Salme’s hair and collectively disassemble her puffy wedding dress when Salme needs to pray. 

When the girls volunteer to sniff each other’s vaginal odor and spew sexual innuendos, these punchlines may seem vulgar or elementary at first glance. Yet, this opening scene is a potent reminder that these years are defined by these women’s youths, just as much as it is defined by political turmoil and unrest. 

Threats of war loom in the background, but this era also represents the girls’ coming of age. And, as they prance around the room and howl with laughter, they refuse to give up their time and youth. 

When the political turmoil does rip apart these friendships later in the play, the whimsical marriage-preparation scene is a memory that haunts Nazanin as much as it haunts the viewers.  

As most of the play unfolds in a living room-setting, the passage of time is subtly hinted at by the changes of the set. Every passing year is represented by the revolving stage, which rotates at different angles. These slight rotations shyly gesture to the changes unfolding — both big and small. In the first scene, the setting resembles a bedroom where the girls smoke in their nighties and one stretches her legs over another as she gets them waxed. Towards the latter half of the play, when Nazanin is now a mother, the floor is scattered with children’s toys and the table holds a tray of coffee and treats that Nazanin offers to visitors. 

“Wish You Were Here” depicts female friendships in all of its nudity, exposing the raw intensity, ugliness, trust, desire and love that encapsulates these meaningful relationships. The play bellows at the top of its lungs, “I WANT TO BE LOVED.” 

When Salme dies in a water-related tragedy, Nazanin and Zari are the only two friends who remain. In the silence that follows Salme’s death, Zari confesses to Nazanin that she had always felt like second-fiddle to Nazanine and Salme’s friendship. This confession is a most relatable one, as most have felt the same ugly, heart-wrenching insecurity in friendship — I thought you didn’t like me as much as you liked her.

But these complicated female friendships are unwound by the underdeveloped character arcs and their abrupt departures. 

The headstrong and prideful Shideh, who acts almost as a clucking-mother hen figure, leaves for American medical school and subsequently leaves the consciousness of both the play and audience members. We only hear about her news in passing, through bits and pieces and crumbs of conversation. 

One evening, many years later, Zari finds Nazanin and tells her that she can help Nazanin obtain a green card because she, too, is leaving for America. Nazanin looks at Zari incredulously and tells her to leave. Zari exits the stage, and she’s never mentioned again in the following scenes. 

What could their abrupt exits signify? The way war mercilessly steals friendships, opportunities and time away from us? The silence that follows exile? Whatever the answer may be, one thing is clear: no one lingers on their absences. Will these women come back? What does life look like in the absence of these women? Do the remaining women still think about nights of their youth, when everyone was there? There is only silence. 

These girls who leave Nazanin’s life, they have no ghosts. 

Though the political landscape of Iran motivates much of the plot –– Salme and Zari’s pursuit for better opportunities in America and Nazanin’s decision not to return to school –– politics is rarely mentioned in the play. While the play’s subdued mention of the Iranian Revolution might be a source of criticism for some, the play powerfully depicts the intimate violence of war. 

While war is often illustrated through images of desecrated buildings and bodies, “Wish You Were Here” embodies the lesser-seen tragedies of war through rushed goodbyes and given-up dreams.  

Without a doubt, the flowers of this play are its heartbreaking dialogue. The lives of five women and their friendships transform throughout these 13 years, but what lingers in the soul of the play and the mind of the audience are the words that these women give to each other. 

The final scene is a striking example. 

As the only one remaining in Iran, Nazanin receives a sudden call from Rana, who disappeared in the beginning of the show. Instead of asking Rana where she is and why she left, Nazanin speaks with Rana as if they’re old friends catching up. They speak of marriage, child-rearing and Rana’s new job at Pizza Hut, Nazanin asks what a “Pizza Hut” is, to which Rana explains that it’s unfortunately less extravagant than what Nazanin thinks. 

It’s only after this chat that Nazanin bursts out, “Being your friend was my whole personality. I miss being defined by who you were. In the long shadow of your existence, I found a home.” With economically precise, yet emotional lines like these, Toossi attacks and articulates the amorphous, lump-in-our-throat feelings that arise when we miss someone deeply – and the directorial vision executes this vision perfectly.

In a world where pride holds our tongues and our desire to be loved is repressed by our fear of rejection, “Wish You Were Here” demands us to give in to love. 

Before it’s too late.