‘White Rabbit, Red Rabbit’ Flies Far And Wide
Can our ideas represent us? Can they take our place? Nassim Soleimanpour confesses in his 2010 script, White Rabbit, Red Rabbit that he had “Always wanted to write something that makes me free.” A young Iranian playwright barred from leaving his country for having not completed mandatory military service, Soleimanpour sent White Rabbit, Red Rabbit like a paper airplane out of Iran and into the world. Along its fantastic journey, this unconventional play landed in Picton, Ontario, Canada for County Stage Company’s’s production at The Andrew on October 10th, 16th, and 23rd. The concept is simple: a script lies onstage in an unopened envelope. An actor who has never seen the play before— yes, a new one every time— approaches, opens the envelope, and begins to perform the play on the spot. White Rabbit, Red Rabbit stands apart not just from other works, but from itself; no two stagings are the same.
Now, I can’t give the game away. The whole point is that the actor can’t know what is going to happen; White Rabbit, Red Rabbit is a well kept secret, and each experience is completely unique. But perhaps I can give you a few hints. Soleimanpour is our narrator: he speaks of himself, his life, his thoughts on suicide. He conducts experiments, arranges analogies, and enacts them onstage. He poses many questions, answering almost none. He jokes, he pokes, he bothers. He traces the thought process of his own creation, thinking about thought, leading by following, directing focus both this way and that. You know– simple stuff. Though Soleimanpour’s gripping contemplations are hardly conducive to synopsis, the distinct themes of power, obedience, and shared responsibility detail its finest edges.
On October 10th, 2026, Soleimanpour’s “dear actor” was Mira Skye Sorbara Korngold. As is an inherent aspect of the experiment, each approach to the content adjusts its effect. Korngold took to the stage with a bucket-load of personality, spilling over the pages and seeping through the already flimsy fourth wall. She supplied quite a bit of ad libbing— reacting to the play alongside the audience, playing into the shocking moments as if to separate herself from controversy. While this was at times very funny, it was in turns lamely apologetic. I cannot say I believe there is a “right way” to do White Rabbit, Red Rabbit: I can only analyze her effect on the play’s content. As she had no time to connect to the writings, it is her detachment that is of interest— the intrigue is in how she adapts.
White Rabbit, Red Rabbit survives by this constant alteration– through its everlasting metamorphosis, the play performs the fundamental mechanics of all living things. Korngold’s changes were extremely direct— the play’s content took a backseat to her perspective. Soleimanpour’s far-off will was at odds with the immediacy of his actors’. The outcome of this dynamic is perhaps best exemplified through the most literal of descriptions: his script in her hands. Whether Korngold’s additive approach served White Rabbit, Red Rabbit’s purpose or not, my reviewing it certainly does. Soleimanpour says all white rabbits pick on the red; the non-doers shoot down the doers. I check my aim.
The bonds and boundaries between author, actor, and audience are constantly pushed at from all angles. Korngold’s irreputable presence is her greatest contribution: she wears at said boundaries until they are thin as air. Everyone is very aware of the circumstances surrounding this performance– the actress’s disconnect makes for an unconventional degree of audience investment. The great draw of this spectacle is in surveying the actor as an aspect of the room rather than an element of the stage: they, too, are being presented with White Rabbit, Red Rabbit for the first time, and are in some ways a fellow member of the audience.
Another aspect of the production that alters the experience is the crowd. The involvement demanded by Soleimanpour grants the audience their role as the third functioning force within the play. Alongside this, each staging of this production has a different headcount, something the script makes a point to confront. We had eighty people in the room, but depending on how many of you there are or where you are sitting, the proceedings are completely altered. This play makes its audience feel implicated for their eminence, setting mind tricks to confront the human bandwidth for obedience all while maintaining a humorous and engaging production.
Audience participation is a shaky ladder– not all crowds are quite so amenable or adept at following instructions– White Rabbit, Red Rabbit thrives on this disjointed unsurety. Soleimanpour understands his spectators may be unable to follow commands perfectly; his focus revolves around the question of whether or not they will. Each action becomes an answer, and the play an active exploration of human nature, through which all participants, mindful or not, become a part of the testing body. This clears the awkwardness that would be achieved by “mistakes” or fumbles surrounding instructive material. These human imperfections become informative examples of who we really are: in this way, we become part of the act.
No one will ever see the same play I have, in that place, with those people, at that time… nevertheless, White Rabbit, Red Rabbit continues its travels. Soleimanpour’s master thought-piece pulls attention to the temporality of any theatrical endeavour. I encourage theatre companies, solo artists, producers and even groups of friends to put this on, and conduct the experiment. Play the game, follow the instructions… It may teach you something. It will, at the very least, make an impression.
White Rabbit, Red Rabbit will play next at The Andrew in Picton on October 23, 2026, performed by Paul Snepsts. For more ticket information, click here.
