Michael Shayan’s play is a funny, touching refugee tale onstage now at the Denver Center

Prior to the opening curtain, Michael Shayan comes down the stairs in the Denver Center’s Singleton Theatre and greets people. In flowing robes and lady glasses, he jokes and gabs with audience members before taking the stage amid one of the most striking, colorful sets imaginable.

This, we soon learn, is not Michael Shayan: He’s playing his mother Roya. Over the next 90 minutes as Roya, the playwright takes us on a journey that starts in Teheran, lands in LA and, on this night, to Denver as the real Roya joined her son on stage after the show.

As Iranian Jews, Shayan’s family joined tens of thousands like them who fled the country after the 1979 revolution. Only Roya’s husband, detained by authorities, was left behind as she lands in the Westwood section of LA (destined to become “Tehrangeles” — the largest population center of Iranians outside of Iran itself.)

In Avaaz (Farsi for “voice” or “song”), we’re greeted by Roya at a special time of year: Nowruz — a springtime holiday celebrating the New Year. To set the scene, Scenic Designer Beowulf Boritt has created a sumptuous table filled with a spread of food called “haft-sin.” There’s a lush green carpet, chandeliers, all kinds of ewers and teapots, a giant bowl of apples, lots of garlic and nuts all in front of three large mirrors.

All of it means something related to hope and renewal, and as the show goes on, Roya tells us all about it as she sips tea and water and engages the audience in song, dance and the proper pronunciation of words typical Americans will butcher completely.

It’s all good, she tells us, laughing as we failed to trill our R’s properly.

Michael Shayan in ‘Avaaz’ | Photo: Jamie Kraus Photography

The darker side

Shayan tells his family story through is mother’s eyes with compassion and authority and plenty of humor. And while it’s a challenge at first to accept a guy with a heavy beard playing a women unironically, that soon goes by the wayside as the audience appreciates the universality of Roya’s path from refugee to citizen.

After a lighthearted introductory period full of corny puns, jabs at American and Iranian culture and educational tidbits, Shayan moves onto some of the darker parts of the story. Roya’s escape from Iran, relatives left behind, an abusive husband and reckoning with a son who turns out to be gay.

It’s a major point of conflict, despite her saying she’s OK with it if he could just keep it more on the down-low (“more Anderson Cooper,” she quips).

As we watch Roya describe her journey and the Nowruz, we also learn she’s waiting for the grown Michael to show up. And while Shayan performs most of the show in her accent, he shifts to flat American as he portrays himself.

After its initial run at the Olney Theatre in Maryland, Avaaz is kicking off its national tour in Denver. It’s an eye-opening look inside a culture most Americans know little about and an immigrant’s tale that transcends the simplistic numbers and outright lies certain politicians tell us. Shayan’s well-crafted play and his delivery of it are entirely fresh — I mean, what man has ever played his mother on stage?

The fact that his mother is there to be part of it all is a bit of theatre magic that requires no special effects.

Below: Michael Shayan schmoozes with audience members prior to the start of his one-man show ‘Avaaz’