Musical legends Taliep Petersen and David Kramer worked together for two decades from 1986 to 2006, writing songs and creating musicals that have been performed to critical acclaim across the globe from Kuala Lumpur to London and New York. In memory of the late Petersen and to honour their friendship and the musical legacy of their extraordinary creative synergy, David and Renaye Kramer put together a Broadway style show of song and dance to showcase the songs from their many hit musicals. After an unprecedented success in the summer season, The Kramer Petersen Songbook now returns to the Baxter.
Except for two songs the first half is drawn from the musicals District Six (1987) and Kat and the Kings (1995). These are songs of loves and dreams. The closing number Dancing on My Own from Crooners (1992) gathers together a moving tribute to Taliep Petersen. The second half picks up the pace with vibrant ensemble numbers, the catchy beats of Ghoema (2005) and penetrating social commentary from Poison (1992).
A superb cast includes Kramer stalwarts Loukmaan Adams, Alistair Izobell and Mono Dullisear. The inimitable Terry Fortune anchors the show and even pulls off a hilarious turn in drag. Camillo Lombard leads a five-piece band with banjo, guitars, keyboard, drums and Donvino Prins’s mean saxophone. As one expects of a Kramer show, the production values are internationally high. Saul Radomsky’s set is a superlative marriage of style and function.
Petersen and Kramer’s songs are a joyous expression and reclamation of Cape culture, and they have become a part of the cultural fabric of the country. Their songbook is a gift to the nation.
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Photo: R Coudyzer
None of the South African productions of foreign musicals that have run in Cape Town have come even close to trumping producer Hazel Feldman’s superlative 2005 staging of the sexed-up Broadway revival version of Chicago. Its return two years later for a short season is most welcome. The musical itself hasn’t dated at all. The wicked ways of this world never do.
Good news is that all the leads are even better this time around, starting with Amra Faye Wright who went on to perform the role of Velma Kelly in the West End and on Broadway. Her co-stars Samantha Peo (Roxie Hart) and Ilse Klink (Matron Mama Morton) are now far from being overshadowed. The only lead change – Craig Urbani replaces Drummond Marais as the shyster lawyer Billy Flynn – is an improvement too.
And under the baton of the dependable Bryan Schimmel the 14-piece onstage orchestra delivers as well as ever.
The only backsliding is in the dancing. There are fewer dancers this time and more than half of them are new – a problem that probably arose from a short rerun season. A number of the present company are in poor form and don’t cope with Bob Fosse’s inhuman choreography. Yet, this doesn’t ultimately spoil what is a great evening at the theatre.
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Photo: Andrew Brown
Nicholas Ellenbogen’s cult comedy series Raiders is practically an institution at the National Arts Festival Fringe where it always sells out. Fast-paced and fun, it is a perfect festival piece. It’s easy to stage – requiring a couple of versatile actors and a handful of props, and its harmless use of audience participation makes it quintessentially theatrical. Now, for the first time in its 18-year history, Raiders takes to the formal theatre, and does so effortlessly.
Ellenbogen is joined on stage by his son Luke, and the two of them carry the show with the occasional input from members of the audience. The patrons are accessorised with costumes and props during an initial informal icebreaker “casting” that starts the show. On the night under review, these would-be actors were so paralysed by laughter they could hardly stand let alone speak.
Despite appearing improvised, the play is carefully scripted. The series is called Raiders because it uses the exotic and episodic grammar of the Spielberg Indiana Jones adventure movies. There are goodies and baddies, precious relics and some historical truth. The current instalment is Rasputin’s Rectangle, a fantasy loosely based on the Bolshevik overthrow of the Romanov dynasty, which has all the ingredients: the haemophiliac son, wild conspiracies, the mad monk Rasputin, disguised princesses and so forth. All these somehow find their way to the South African platteland where an old Jewish smous touring with his wagon that doubles as a sort of raree show – uncovers the tale. The result is foolproof entertainment.
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