Boesman and Lena

B-

In a review of the 2000 film based on Athol Fugard’s (Blood Knot, “Master Harold” …and the Boys) searing drama, the Variety critic expressed the thought that the work managed the difficult feat of recalling both “Waiting for Godot” and “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” There is at least a grain of truth in this observation. In this Signature Theatre production, the set’s barren landscape with one dead tree certainly could be shared by Beckett’s play and both works are about a pair condemned to endless wandering. Like Albee’s couple, Fugard’s is a codependent pair prone to provoking each other. Boesman and Lena are coloureds, i.e. of mixed race, whose life in apartheid South Africa is a living hell. The policy of forced removals has turned them into domestic refugees with no prospects for a settled life. Watching a day in their life is almost unbearably painful. We meet them on a mud flat after their most recent shantytown has been demolished by the government. Exhausted after a long day of walking with most of their worldly goods on her head, Lena voices her unhappiness and begs for some wine, to Boesman’s deaf ear. We learn that he has mostly come to ignore her when he is not taking out his frustration with life by beating on her. They have been together for several years and had one child who lived for six months and several stillbirths. As they set up their lean-to, Lena sees someone approaching and, against Boesman’s wishes, invites him to join them. Their guest turns out to be a frail, elderly Xhosa tribesman, whose language they do not understand. Nevertheless, out of her fierce desire for companionship, Lena welcomes him as someone to listen to her. Boesman is not happy about it. Will Lena’s accumulation of grievances against Boesman lead her to finally leave him? The main strength of this production is the acting. Zainab Jah (Venus, Eclipsed) is superb as Lena and Thomas Silcott (Coming Home) is haunting as the old man. Sahr Ngaujah (Fela!, Mlima’s Tale) is a bit problematic; his Boesman is so relentlessly unpleasant that there is no inkling of why Lena would ever have been drawn to him. I don’t know whether the problem is in the script or in the performance. Susan Hilferty’s (Wicked, Into the Woods) costumes and bleak set are evocative. I have qualms about a few decisions by director Yaël Farber (London: Salomé, The Crucible). Having the pair wander through the audience before the play actually begins was not particularly effective and merely slowed things down. The decision to eliminate the intermission may have been determined more by fear of audience attrition than by artistic considerations. Two hours without a break was a challenge for my powers of concentration. It would have been helpful to have a few program notes about the prevailing racial stratification under apartheid as well as a short glossary of frequently used Afrikaans words. In today’s era of abused refugees, the play is all too timely. It is also one of the most depressing plays I have ever seen. Running time: two hours; no intermission.

"Master Harold" ...and the Boys **** A

A superb revival of Athol Fugard’s 1992 masterpiece, directed by the playwright, is the latest offering at Signature Theatre. In this semi-autobiographical work, Fugard portrays a critical moment in the longtime relationship between Hally (Noah Robbins), a 17-year old Afrikaaner, and two black employees of his family’s business, the wise Sam (Leon Addison Brown) who has tried to be a mentor to Hally and the impulsive Willie (Sahr Ngaujah). Hally’s father, badly injured in WW II, is an alcoholic. His mother has been forced to be the family breadwinner, first by operating a boarding house, since then by running a tea room. The lonely, seething, embittered Hally has turned to Sam and Willie since early childhood for companionship. When a telephone call from his mother bodes ill for Hally’s future, he lashes out at the only people he feels any control over. There are lighter moments of Sam and Willie preparing for a dance contest and of Hally recollecting happier times, but the play builds inexorably to its lacerating climax. Every aspect of this production is top-notch. All three actors fully inhabit their roles, the realistic set by Christopher H. Barreca is excellent, Susan Hilferty’s costumes are fine and Fugard’s direction is, as one would expect, assured. I could quibble that the play’s metaphors are occasionally a bit heavy-handed, but it is indisputably a modern classic. I highly recommend seeing it. Running time: 1 hour, 20 minutes; no intermission.

The Painted Rocks at Revolver Creek ***

Even though he has already written over a score of plays about life in South Africa during and after apartheid, Athol Fugard still has things to say on the subject. His new play at Signature Theatre is loosely based on the career of outside artist Nukain Mabuza, a black farm laborer who painted colorful designs on the boulders located on the farm owned by the Afrikaaner family who employed him. They encouraged him and bought him paint to spend his Sundays turning the rocks into stone “flowers.” In Fugard’s fictionalized version of his life, the aged Nukain (Leon Addison Brown) arrives with his 11-year old assistant Bokkie (Caleb McLaughlin) to tackle the last unpainted boulder, a gigantic one he calls “The Big One.” He feels artistically blocked and unable to paint the rock until Bokkie’s suggestion that he paint eyes on it. Doing so releases a flood of creative energy and, instead of a flower, he turns the rock into an abstract record of his life. When the boss’s wife Elmarie (Bianca Amato) arrives bearing leftovers, she dislikes his painting and tells him to paint over it the following weekend and replace it with another floral design. Bokkie is horrified and sasses her. She is enraged at his cheekiness and tells Nukain to use his belt on him. The irony is that Nukain is so poor he doesn’t even own a belt. 

22 years later, the adult Bokkie, now known by his given name Jonathan (Sahr Ngaujah) returns to Revolver Creek where he is greeted by a hostile Elmarie brandishing a pistol. She does not recognize him and is on edge because of the recent murder and torture of her neighbors by blacks. Most of the act consists of long alternating speeches by the two, each passionately defending a point of view. Fugard plays fair in presenting their perspectives and mostly avoids didacticism. The play ends on a cautiously optimistic note.

The production is exemplary. The cast could not be better. Christopher H. Barreca’s evocative set draws you in immediately. Susan Hilferty’s costumes are appropriate. The playwright’s direction is uncluttered. It’s not a major Fugard play, but still a welcome addition to his canon. Running time: 1 hour 45 minutes including intermission. 

NOTE: I suggest staying in your seat at intermission because the set change is extremely interesting. I also suggest avoiding the first two rows (unless you have a foot fetish) because you’ll be staring at the performers’ feet.

Blood Knot ***

(Please click on the title to see the full review.)
As the opening play in its magnificent new three-theater complex at W. 42nd Street and 10th Avenue, Signature Theatre has mounted a revival of Athol Fugard's 1961 two-character play, directed by the playwright himself. In this production, now in previews, two fine actors, Scott Shepherd (Gatz) and Colman Domingo (Scottsboro Boys), take over the roles originated by Fugard and Zakes Mokae. Two half-brothers -- Morris, light enough to pass for white, and Zachariah, quite dark -- live in a squalid hut in a colored area of Port Elisabeth, South Africa. Zachariah works as a gatekeeper whose job it is to keep out black children while Morris, who has returned after many years away, keeps house and attentively looks after his brother. Morris has dreams of saving enough money to start a small two-man farm. Zach craves female companionship. Morris talks him into starting a pen pal correspondence with an 18-year old girl who lives far away. Things get complicated when she turns out to be white and writes that she is coming to town on holiday. The decision to spend their hard-earned savings on a gentleman's suit for Morris to pretend to be his brother and meet the girl in his place leads to unintended consequences. Long-suppressed feelings arise and bring out the toxic side of the brothers' relationship. This is the play that made Fugard's career: in it, both his strengths and weakness are already evident. The first act drags on a bit, while the second act has a surfeit of drama. For me, the play's requirement for the characters to serve both as vivid individuals as well as symbols in a parable of apartheid leads to some awkwardness. I have to confess that I have long admired Fugard more than I have enjoyed most of his plays. Christopher H. Barreca's set, Susan Hilferty's costumes, Rick Sordelet's fight direction, and Barbara Rubin's dialect coaching are all excellent.