It is always exciting to encounter multilingual theatre in London, particularly in a city with such a complex mix of languages, histories and communities. Unofficial Roxelana, performed in Turkish with English surtitles, is an example of the kind of work that can bring a specific cultural history into a shared theatrical space without having to translate away its original language.
Written by Turkish playwright Özen Yula, the play tells the story of Hürrem Sultan, one of the most powerful women of the Ottoman Empire. Her journey from concubinage into the centre of the Ottoman court becomes a way of exploring power, gender, political ambition and the ways in which women’s histories are remembered and retold. Rather than presenting Hürrem’s story as a straightforward historical account, Yula uses theatrical storytelling to move between characters, periods and perspectives.
The production is carried almost entirely by two performers, Petek Kirboga and Dilek Yorulmaz, who have a particularly strong stage chemistry. Kirboga brings a playful physicality to the production, moving between characters with considerable ease. Her shifts in voice, body and rhythm allow her to become different figures within the story, including the Sultan’s daughter, while also making the transitions between storytelling and characterisation visible. There is something particularly enjoyable about watching her construct a character almost in front of us.
Yorulmaz, playing Hürrem, works with a more contained physical presence. There is a grace and stillness to her performance that creates an interesting contrast with Kirboga’s more expansive physical storytelling. Together, the performers repeatedly move between being characters, narrators and storytellers. At certain points they address us directly; at others they disappear into the world of the story. The production also plays with the idea of a play within a play, leaving us to question how much of what we have witnessed is history, theatrical reconstruction or a character’s retelling of events.
This layering is supported by a number of traditional theatrical devices. Shadow theatre and masks are central to the visual language of the production. A large screen becomes a surface for shadow work, while hanging metal frames create further opportunities for silhouettes and shifting images. The masks are particularly striking, with ornate designs, flowers and bright details that give the different figures a heightened theatrical quality. There are also small but effective details, such as dolls dressed in versions of the performers’ costumes, which extend the production’s interest in representation and storytelling.
The visual design creates a world that feels deliberately theatrical rather than attempting to recreate the Ottoman court realistically. That decision works well with the play’s shifting relationship to history. We are not simply watching a historical reconstruction; we are watching two performers continually reconstructing history in front of us.
The Ottoman music, unfortunately, was less successful for me. While it may provide a strong cultural and historical connection for audiences familiar with the musical tradition, I found that it sometimes worked against the production’s more magical storytelling language. Rather than allowing the transitions between periods and characters to emerge organically through the performers, the music could make those shifts feel externally marked. At times I felt the score was telling me that the production had entered a new moment before the theatrical action itself had established that transition.
The same question of rhythm comes through in the dialogue. There is a great deal of material in the play, and Yula’s writing is clearly interested in giving us the historical and political context surrounding Hürrem. The production does well when it allows this information to become theatrical, particularly through movement, direct address, masks and role switching. I found myself wanting more of these moments and more space around them. There are sections where the dialogue becomes quite dense, and the story could benefit from additional pauses and moments in which the performers’ bodies, the visual language and the audience’s imagination are allowed to carry some of the information.
This becomes particularly important because the production is performed in Turkish with English surtitles. As someone who does not speak Turkish, I found the surtitles essential to following the narrative, but their rhythm occasionally made the experience more difficult. There were moments when the subtitles did not quite match the pace of the spoken dialogue, and moments where the text appeared ahead of what was being performed. In a production so interested in pauses, shifts and theatrical timing, it would be useful for the surtitles to follow that same rhythm. If a performer pauses, the subtitle should ideally give the audience that same space rather than introducing the next piece of information prematurely. It might also help to differentiate between speakers more clearly when the performers move rapidly between characters.
Despite this, there is considerable craft in the production. Gökhan Kocaoglu’s direction manages a demanding two-hander that has to accommodate substantial dialogue, physical transformation, shadow theatre, masks, music and direct audience address. The production has a clear sense of its theatrical vocabulary, and the performers remain at its centre throughout.
What stayed with me most was the pleasure of seeing Hürrem’s story being told through the language and theatrical traditions of the culture from which the story emerges. Unofficial Roxelana does not treat history as something fixed on a page. It asks what happens when history is performed, reconstructed and passed between bodies. For a London audience, and particularly within such a multilingual city, there is real value in creating more spaces where stories can arrive in their original languages and invite audiences into them through theatre.
Reviewer: Gaurav Singh Nijjer
Reviewed: 19th September 2026
North West End UK Rating: