It’s such a good thing from so many different angles to revive the classics – and this is one of them. The two young actors first performed it a year ago as part of their grad studies at Wits, but they thought they could do more with it and that’s when they brought in Kutjo Green as director.
They were right. It’s not a great work on paper with too many gaps which cry out for context and texture and that’s where the players and the director need to step in – and up. Which is exactly what they did. It’s a tragic tale and, I suspect, still affecting many, many young children brought up by their grandmothers, who might be torn away suddenly or simply feel the loss of their parents.
It’s a tough thing as a child not to have all the given factors that would simplify your life and allow you a much easier start in life or at least a better chance at it.
But someone like Zandile needed to toughen up to deal with life’s harsh realities. And like many youngsters do, she found an imaginary friend who could be by her side when she needed her for companionship, and especially comfort. It’s a snapshot of a childhood but what lends it weight are the performances by Matsunyane (Zandile) and Dlomo (multiple roles), who step into their childhood roles with great gusto. Even when ageing, Dlomo sticks to that slightly exaggerated style which keeps the performances rooted in storytelling mode.
It’s also a way of removing the pain just that one further step away to enable the audience to reflect rather than wince and lose the impact. Some of the sketches reminded me of NoViolet Bulawayo’s award-winning book We Need New Names when she discusses things like abortion as viewed by a 10-year-old. Here they tackle menstruation and how girl children can get into a complete panic because they haven’t been given the facts.
And again it points to the importance of information and how much most of us take for granted. If you grow up in a home with both parents, siblings, and rooms filled with books, computers and televisions, information is readily available. But most of the world isn’t that fortunate and much of their day, whatever the family make-up, is spent simply on survival.
All of this might sound traumatic and those moments are witnessed, but in essence, what they capture gloriously is the innocence and joyfulness of childhood when an imaginary friend can turn your world into sunshine or what seems like silly games might inform you for the rest of your life. It’s also an ode to the selfless randmothers who have raised so many in our nation and around the world. These women give of themselves to their grandchildren, something they hadn’t bargained or planned for but accept with love as they lay a foundation for a child that will serve as a compass for the rest of their lives.
Green is clever in the way she presents the story with a strong visual eye (aided by the talents of designer Wilhelm Disbergen) and a discerning and deft touch for strong storytelling even when the text is thin. She layers it with context and texture and then allows the actors to play.