PEOPLE ARE LIVING THERE
DIRECTOR: André Odendaal
CAST: Anna-Mart van der Merwe, Carel Nel, Francois Jacobs, Dania Gelderblom
VENUE: Barney Simon at The Market
UNTIL: May 24
RATING: ****
Fugard’s People Are Living There is all about the play and the people. It’s stark, startling, cynical and often brutal in its dissection of these four hapless souls who are all trying to make a life. Tragically, as you watch them, it doesn’t seem as if they can make any headway.
They’re chasing happiness with a determination that’s heartbreaking, but like Shorty’s silkworms whose life cycle seems as inevitable as his own, they seem to be bumping heads against a reality that is relentless in its pursuit.
Milly is miserable about her breakup with her German lodger, a relationship that she feels robbed her of 10 years of her life, and she wants him to pay by showing the world (mostly him) she can have a good time. And for that, she seduces her two boys – Don, the recluse and Shorty, the postman – and then it’s time for blood sport, or that’s how it feels.
Fugard witnessed these types of conversations in a Braamfontein boarding house in the ’60s and describes the play as one of the few (if not only) based on real life. It’s heartfelt and extremely sore and the one who is most exposed is Milly, who refuses to let go of her childhood dreams and wishes. Van der Merwe comes alive in this role as she frantically grabs Milly by the gut and refuses to let go, yet unleashes her anguish and anger on both of her vulnerable companions.
Milly is not a pretty picture and the actress cunningly cuddles up to her gown and slippers as if they are a second skin, something that might protect her from the outside world. There are glimpses that she might slip into something far more glamorous – a ball gown perhaps, could once have been a butterfly – but she’s soon dispirited and dragged down by a defiantly determined Don. This is where they belong and he knows that.
It’s much simpler to turn on the simple-minded Shorty and this is where Van der Merwe turns up the heat as she directs all her wrath onto this young man who wants nothing more from life than just to please those who come into his space. It’s a battle, because everyone, even his young hussy of a wife, Sissy, is either hitting out or simply knocking him out of their way. He takes the hits head-on and expends his own energy in boxing sessions while Sissy goes to the movies with Billy, a cousin of hers.
While Don observes, Milly orchestrates. It’s fun yet fatal to watch because you know what’s coming. What keeps you mesmerised is Van der Merwe’s Milly who is going her own 10 rounds as she hits out and knocks out, falters and almost falls, but pulls herself up, determined to hold onto life and its seemingly endless merry-go-round.
This is The Market’s first staging of this particular Fugard play and with Odendaal pushing it at a sharp pace into today’s fast-tracked world, the relevance –now and probably forever – is glaring. If you’re not part of the pack, the running is that much harder. Milly knows and Van der Merwe’s up-and- down swings are perfectly pitched as she keeps her scratching and scavenging for any emotion – happy or sad.
Her supporting cast bask in her glow with Jacobs the most feisty as Sporty, who wears every emotion out there for everyone to see. It’s like a puppy wagging his tongue and tail, waiting for the next command or rebuke and the actor is fully simpatico. Nel almost has Don by the scruff of the neck and there are moments, but sometimes the fidgeting, the pulling close of the jacket, feel too affected rather than Don’s habitat. Milly’s harping about his skin condition should also have been visible and might just have helped to make that final leap.
Sissy is perhaps the toughest character to catch. She more talked about than was allowed to speak her own mind. She steps in at the beginning and again towards the end and Gelderblom doesn’t seem quite sure what to make with or of her. There’s still too much visible work happening.
But these are quibbles, which will smooth into a production this enthralling. And further enhanced by Cohen’s bleak set and Mannim’s illuminating lighting.
Fugard has a voice that makes you smile and then plummet into very dark places. But he’s ours, he’s telling our stories, in a language we understand and wallow in. More than anything it’s about our people and they’re still living there.