After six years, Baghdad's theatre opens its doors again

"The play, To enjoy the sweetness you must taste the bitterness, produced, written, directed and acted by Iraqis, is the first evening stage show in Baghdad since the war that toppled Saddam Hussein six and a half years ago.

Although it is a comedy, the title and story have an obvious and serious resonance for people who long for better times. The 1,000 seat theatre, built during the Iran-Iraq war and which in its heyday hosted sell-out foreign productions of Shakespeare and Chekhov, is, once again, full.

As nervous ushers handed out white plastic garden chairs to customers who had paid 10,000 dinars (£5.50) for seats only to be left standing, the significance of the night-time performance was not lost amid the hubbub.

"We used to go to the theatre and cinemas all the time before the war," says Elaf Mohammed, a 29-year-old civil engineer accompanied by her husband Usama and three-year-old daughter. "It is so good that we can do so again."

Until little more than a year ago, going to a restaurant, one of the few evening diversions available in Baghdad, would have been considered dangerous. Downtown neighbourhoods such as Karrada and Mansur would have been empty by 6pm. Now they are bustling.

"Life must go on," Elaf says, in a sentiment shared by Usama, whose face bears the scars of debris that struck him when a massive truck bomb killed dozens and wounded hundreds at Baghdad's foreign ministry just seven weeks ago.

"People used to be scared to go out at night," he says. "I feel happy this has changed. Baghdad is a big city and we need to enjoy culture."

While the Baghdad cinemas that once showed international and Arabic films remain closed, bar a few matinée screenings, it is a sign of progress, perhaps, that families have the option of going to the theatre in the evening.

The play's actors, most of them stars of local television shows, include Majid Yassin, a veteran performer who fled Iraq after the 2003 US-led invasion ushered in bombings, kidnappings and sectarian murder that eviscerated society, but who has since returned.

"The hearts of Iraqis are full of hurt, you can see their pain from the outside. People have been used to crying," he says.

"My colleagues and I perform so that we can make them laugh again."

The play opened during Eid al-Fitr, the Muslim holiday that follows the holy month of Ramadan, and was the idea of producer Essam al-Abassi who, when not devising productions, sells mobile phones in the Iraqi capital.

Centred on two friends who quarrel when one falls in love with the other's sister, the plot contains an element of science fiction when a spaceship uplifts the men to Neptune, forcing them to put aside their differences.

The play is passionately patriotic and although it does not explicitly refer to the sectarian divide between Shia and Sunni, Abassi concedes that the gulf between Iraq's two dominant communities did inspire him.

"I am trying to send a message to the people that in the end there are no differences," he says."