Edinburgh Fringe Interview: Layla Warren on Long Way Home at Gilded Balloon

On the surface, Long Way Home tells the story of my journey, from being born in Tehran during the Iran-Iraq War, to fleeing to London, and eventually making my way to Los Angeles with dreams of one day working in television.

At its core, it’s really about identity and belonging. It’s about searching for home after being displaced, navigating different cultures, and trying to figure out where you fit in.

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More than anything, it’s about forging your own path, even when the world has very clear ideas about who you should be and what you can achieve.

This is a deeply personal story rooted in your own life experience – what made you decide to bring it to the stage now?

It’s actually been quite a journey. Right before COVID, my partner Chris was working on a TV show, and through that project we met a writer who became interested in my story. Together, we started developing it as a television pilot. At the time, I wasn’t really writing myself, I was taking more of a producer role.

Then COVID happened, and I ended up cold-calling Ravi Nandan at A24. To my surprise, he took the call, and after hearing the pitch, he was interested enough to set up a meeting. It was meant to be me, Chris and the writer presenting the project, but on the day of the meeting, the writer never showed up.

It was a very embarrassing experience because we had placed so much trust in someone else to help tell the story. Suddenly, Chris and I were left trying to carry the meeting on our own, completely unprepared. It was a disaster.

Looking back, though, it became a turning point. It forced me to confront the fact that I had been relying on someone else to tell a story that was ultimately mine to tell.

Afterwards, Chris encouraged me to take ownership of it and trust that my perspective was the most important part of the project. That conversation pushed me to invest in myself as a writer. I enrolled in the UCLA Extension screenwriting programme and committed to learning how to do it.

After completing the course, I met Pilar Alessandra, who is an all-round extraordinary human. She’s incredibly thoughtful, insightful and a wealth of knowledge, and is now the dramaturg on this show.

At the time, she was my writing coach, but over the years, unbeknownst to her, she became my writing mentor.

My background was in TV presenting and acting, so writing felt like a different world. I hadn’t followed a traditional path into it, and I often questioned whether I belonged in those spaces. I never went to Harvard, I didn’t even finish school, and I found myself comparing my journey to writers with more conventional credentials.

Pilar consistently pushed me and reminded me that what made my writing unique wasn’t a résumé or educational background, but my voice, my experiences and the emotional truth behind the stories I wanted to tell. Her belief in me gave me the confidence I needed to move forward.

Through writing pilots and later a spec feature film, I realised I was spending so much time creating characters and worlds inspired by pieces of my own life. Eventually, it felt more honest and cathartic to tell my story directly.

Bringing it to the stage at Edinburgh felt like the natural next step and the right moment to finally share it in my own voice.

Long Way Home explores themes of identity, belonging and survival – what do you hope audiences take away from the piece?

More than anything, I hope audiences find a connection to the story.

For those who have lived through similar experiences, I hope the show makes them feel seen, understood and a little less alone. For those who come from very different backgrounds, I hope it offers an opportunity to find common ground and gain a deeper understanding of experiences outside their own.

What I really want is for people to leave feeling something.

Whether that’s joy, sadness, empathy, anger or hope, I want the story to stay with them after they’ve left the theatre. If the show can spark an emotional response or start a conversation, then I feel like I’ve done my job.

The show spans an extraordinary journey from Tehran to London and into American entertainment – how did you approach translating such a wide-ranging story into a solo performance?

Honestly, that was probably the hardest part of the entire process. My life has taken me across different countries, cultures and chapters, and there was so much I wanted to include.

With a solo show, you quickly realise you can’t tell every story. I had to be ruthless and keep asking myself whether each moment was serving the larger narrative or whether I was holding onto it simply because it was meaningful to me. That became an important filter throughout the writing process.

It was also important to me that I didn’t present myself as the hero of my own story. I’m deeply flawed, and like everyone else, I’m still a work in progress. If I wanted the piece to feel honest, I had to be willing to share some of the moments I’m not proud of.

At a certain point, Layla the person had to step aside so that Layla the writer could take over. That meant approaching the story with as much honesty and vulnerability as possible, even when it was uncomfortable.

It meant showing not just the resilience and determination, but also the mistakes, insecurities and less flattering moments I’ve had along the way.

There’s a balance of humour and difficult subject matter in the show – how did you navigate that tone while telling such a personal story?

I think resilience has always been my superpower, but so has finding the humour in difficult situations. No matter what’s happened in my life, I’ve always tried to find some light in the darkness.

As cheesy as it might sound, I’ve felt that if I let the people who hurt me, wronged me or underestimated me make me cynical or bitter, then they hold power over me, and they win.

The best way to avoid that is to hold on to a sense of hope and optimism, and to let things roll off my back.

That mindset shaped the way I wrote the show. Whenever the story moved into darker or more vulnerable territory, I found myself wanting to balance it with humour or a lighter moment, not because I wanted to avoid the difficult parts, but because that’s how I’ve naturally navigated life.

The story deals with displacement, identity and some challenging experiences, but it also celebrates resilience, optimism and the ability to keep moving forward.

What would you say to anyone thinking of booking to see Long Way Home?

I’d say, come along for the ride.

I also have to give a huge shout-out to our director, Sepy Baghaei, who has been an absolute dream to collaborate with. She’s open, creative and has championed me every step of the way.

Theatre is such a collaborative experience. While people may be coming to hear me tell my story, I’m just as excited to meet them. Every audience brings its own energy, perspective and curiosity, and that becomes part of the performance. No two shows are ever exactly the same because of that shared connection.

That, to me, is what makes live theatre so special. I hope there are moments that make you laugh, moments that make you reflect, and maybe even moments that surprise you.