"A delicate and moving introduction to Holocaust themes for children."

"Hana's Suitcase balances entertainment and education wrapped in an engrossing theatrical package."

"A charming, thought-provoking play for young audiences...A strong testament to the forces that bring people together: imagination, curiosity and hope."

"The staging of Hana's Suitcase is magnificent...A production...willing to trust its younger viewers with visual, thematic and temporal complexity: the story involves frequent and alluring crossovers and interactions between the characters of the modern and WWII time frames."

"Emil Sher's dramatization is remarkably successful...The Japanese kids Maiko and Akira...initially see the plight of the European Jews as a kind of video game. Only gradually do they come to recognize the horror and sheer helplessness of it. They and their teacher dominate the first half; Hana, her brother, George, and their parents are silent presences. In the second act, they come to vocal life. Hana and George's incredulity at the remorseless restrictions as the Nazis crack down...is echoed by Maiko and Akira, shocked for them and recoiling with them. Their words become interchangeable, and the ripples spread out among the Canadian children, watching from the auditorium... The re-enactment takes us all the way to Hana's consignment to the gas chambers. It's all handled with great tact, but no soft-pedalling."

"As any history teacher will tell you, one of the challenges of making the past interesting for kids is distance. Who cares about things that happened so far away or so long ago? Hana's Suitcase is a story, and now a play, that closes that distance...Playwright Emil Sher bridges the immense distance between Japan and Europe, between the years 2000 and the Holocaust, with a script that is driven by the thoughts, feelings, fears and hopes of its young characters...Hana's Suitcase works as a play because it builds connections with its audience members. We are allowed and encouraged to laugh at Akira's egocentrism while only moments later we ask ourselves, what would it be like to watch your parents walk out the front door and never return?"