Firebird - Taqi Nazeer Interview

“You’ve got these twinkling eyes, all bright and dancey… They will love taking that from you” 

When fourteen-year-old Katie moves to town, a chink of light appears in the darkness that’s threatening to swallow Tia. Tia has been in care since she was three. She can’t stand her foster mum, and her friends keep letting her down. But when she meets AJ, a charismatic older man, he seems like the answer to all her problems. At first, he is. But AJ has done this before, and after the gifts and compliments come the threats and abuse.

Firebird is a gripping, unflinching drama about grooming and exploitation, exposing the catastrophic failures of the systems designed to protect children in the UK.

Marlie Haco’s revival combines Davies’ “remarkably potent” text (The Times) with movement and an original score to shine a light on an ongoing national scandal.

A decade on from its highly acclaimed West End transfer from Hampstead Theatre, Firebird returns to the London stage in a striking new production.

Taqi Nazeer

We sat down with actor Taqi Nazeer who plays AJ in the production.

What can you tell me about Firebird and your role as AJ?
Firebird is a play about exploitation, but beneath that it asks much deeper questions about belonging, identity and the universal human need for love and protection. It examines the devastating consequences that unfold when vulnerable young people are failed by the very caregivers and institutions entrusted with their care and protection.

Phil Davies has written an extraordinary play that refuses easy answers. What I love about Firebird is it doesn't lecture the audience on what to think or feel - which can so easily be done with a play like this. 

Instead, it asks them to look closely at how manipulation works and why escaping it can be so difficult. Whatever conclusion the audience leaves with, will definitely be their own.

AJ is a fascinating character because he doesn't see himself as a monster. He presents himself as charismatic, generous, funny and protective. He's someone who understands exactly what people need emotionally and uses that understanding to control them. That's what makes him frightening and sinister. He arrives disguised as a saviour.

Firebird tackles the harrowing reality of grooming and system failures. What was your initial reaction when you first read Phil Davies’ script, and what made you feel this was a project you absolutely needed to be a part of?
I remember finishing it and just sitting in my thoughts for a while. It isn't often a script leaves me feeling physically and emotionally unsettled, however Firebird did.

What struck me most was how sadly recognisable the relationships felt - we've either read stories, watched documentaries or had conversations about them, therefore it's relatable whether we like it or not simply because we've had that exposure.

Phil has written the characters in a way that you can visualise them immediately and reference them. He's written people, not headlines. AJ's manipulation is incremental, almost invisible at first, and that's exactly why it's so powerful. You begin to understand how his victim could become trapped without ever intending to.

As an actor, I’m always looking for stories that jolt me upright and ask difficult questions. I like difficult storytelling and complex characters. Firebird challenges audiences to examine assumptions they may already hold. For me, that is always an important conversation to be part of.

Without giving too much away, how do you approach finding the humanity—or navigating the lack thereof- in a character like AJ, who is part of such a destructive force?
I can't play someone by judging them. If I decide AJ is simply evil, then I stop being curious, and curiosity is where truthful performances begin.

For me, the challenge is understanding how AJ justifies his own behaviour. Every human being creates a story about themselves, and AJ's story is one where his outer persona believes he's successful, admired and somehow entitled. He constantly reframes his actions to preserve that self-image.

What's disturbing is that there are moments where he seems genuinely affectionate, even vulnerable. Whether that's authentic emotion or another form of manipulation is something the audience has to wrestle with. I don't want to answer that for them. I simply want to present someone who is psychologically believable, because that's ultimately more unsettling than playing an obvious trope or caricature.

Marlie Haco’s revival incorporates movement and an original score alongside the text. How does the script incorporate these physical and musical elements? How do they help heighten the emotional stakes of the story?
One of the exciting things about this production is that the movement and music don't decorate the play, they reveal what's happening underneath the words and between scenes.

Phil's script already has an incredible rhythm to it, but Marlie has found another emotional language inside the piece. There are moments where movement expresses what the characters can't articulate, and the score almost becomes another character, carrying tension, hope and dread through the story.

Marlie has approached the material with enormous sensitivity. She's not interested in spectacle or agenda. Her direction and vision serves the emotional truth of the play, and I think audiences will experience the story not just intellectually but viscerally. It's a very bold and compassionate vision.

The play deals with incredibly heavy, raw, and unflinching themes daily. As an actor, how do you protect your own mental well-being when deep in rehearsals and performances for a piece with this level of intensity?
One of the biggest lessons I've learned is that you don't have to carry the character home with you in order to honour the work.

I commit completely while I'm in the rehearsal room or on stage, but afterwards it's important that I take my own time to reconnect with myself, to talk with my family, friends and loved ones, laugh together and spend time together. Or just sit in my own day-dreamy world. I remember that these are fictional circumstances, however truthful they may feel.

We're also fortunate to have a creative team that really looks after one another. Because the material is so demanding, there's a real sense of trust and openness in the room. That support makes it possible to explore difficult emotions safely.

Southwark Playhouse Borough is known for its incredibly intimate performance spaces. How do you think that close proximity to the audience will change the energy and impact of a raw piece like Firebird compared to a larger touring venue?

The intimacy of Southwark Playhouse is incredibly exciting because there's nowhere to hide for us or for the audience.

People won't be observing events from a comfortable distance; they'll feel almost inside them. They'll see tiny shifts in behaviour, moments of silence, the things that are often lost in larger spaces. And because Firebird is built on relationships and psychological manipulation, those details matter enormously.

I think audiences will leave feeling as though they haven't simply watched the story, they've experienced it alongside the characters.

You have an extensive background in Scottish theatre (Dundee Rep, National Theatre of Scotland, Traverse) as well as screen work (Shetland, The Control Room). How does your approach to building a character change when you're preparing for the stage versus working in front of a camera?

The foundation is always the same. I'm still asking who this person is, what do they want and what's stopping them getting it.

The difference is really in scale. On camera, the lens catches every thought, so often less is more - as clichéd as that sounds. Less really means honesty and truth. In theatre, you're sustaining a character's emotional journey over 90 minutes, often longer, in front of a live audience, so your energy and delivery has to be expansive without ever becoming false.

What I love about theatre is that every performance is a conversation with that matinee or evening audience. It changes slightly with every show - that's the nature of live theatre. It's incredibly exciting. That's something you don't get in television or film.

You trained at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland (RCS). Looking back at your time there, what is the most valuable piece of advice or technique you learned that you still rely on today when tackling complex roles like AJ?

One thing that stayed with me is the importance of emotional truth over emotional display.
At drama school I recall my acting coach saying to me “Taqi, I do not want to see your emotion, I want to feel it”. I spent a lot of time learning that the audience doesn't need to see you trying to feel something, they need to believe the character is experiencing it. Those are very different things.

So rather than chasing emotion, I focus on the circumstances, the objectives and really listening to the other actor. If those things are truthful, then whatever emotion emerges belongs to the character rather than to me trying to manufacture a performance.

If you could describe the rehearsal atmosphere or the energy of this specific company in just three words, what would they be?
The play itself is heartbreaking, provocative and urgent.

The rehearsal room has very much been the opposite for me: supportive, joyful and generous.

I think that's essential. You couldn't spend every day immersed in material like this without trust and humour. There's been a huge amount of care, understanding and openness in the room.

Why is July 2026 the absolute right time for audiences to come down to Southwark Playhouse and see Firebird?

Because it'll get you out of the heat!

I think whatever month Firebird was to be programmed in is the month to see it. Sadly, this story hasn't become history and probably never will.

The issues the play explores haven't disappeared; they're still affecting victims and communities across the country and the world.

What I love about theatre is that it has a unique ability to ask questions in a way that news programmes cannot. You can read statistics or newspaper articles, however sitting in a room with
these characters for 90 minutes is a completely different experience. It reminds us of our own vulnerabilities, our own limitations and what can we do to change not only ourselves but others around us for the betterment of society

The play is described as shining a light on an "ongoing national crisis." What do you hope audiences, particularly those who might feel detached from this issue, take away from watching Firebird?

For me, one of the play's greatest achievements is showing that exploitation in whatever form it arrives in isn't about someone's culture or ethnicity. At its heart, it's about vulnerability, coercion, loneliness and power.

If audiences come expecting a play about villains and victims, I think they'll leave having seen something much more complex. They'll see how manipulation is built one conversation, one favour, one act of apparent kindness at a time.

I believe the audience will leave with greater compassion for the true victims of exploitation - the countless girls who have been failed by their caregivers and the very systems designed and apparently implemented to protect them. Their choices may seem ‘wayward’ when the truth is, it's just a cry for love, care and protection. And when all that fails and these vulnerable victims fall into the orbit of gangs then it's not these ‘wayward’ victims who have failed in life it is us who have failed the lives of the victims.

That's what makes Firebird such an important and timeless piece of theatre. It doesn't simply tell us what happened. It asks us to understand how it happened, and why it continues to happen.

Firebird runs at Southwark Playhouse Borough from 9th July until 1st August 2026. Tickets are available from https://southwarkplayhouse.co.uk/productions/firebird/