Photo: Jaco Marais
In our post-apartheid state, racial tension in the Western Cape between black and coloured South Africans is an explosive issue with a long and painful history. It remains a taboo subject, which is why New York based playwright Dael Orlandersmith’s Yellowman has resonated strongly with local audiences.
Set in South Carolina in the 1970s, this coming of age romance between childhood sweethearts – buxom, dark-skinned, dirt-poor Alma and lighter-skinned, better-off ‘yellaman’ Eugene – relates their personal struggles to overcome their private demons and to nurture their love in the face of a divided, hate-filled community as prejudiced around color issues as the greater American society.
A relentless indictment of the community it depicts, riven by internalised racism, there is little sympathy for Alma’s pauperised, alcoholic and self-loathing mother or Eugene’s vindictive, emotionally violent and physically abusive father. They are presented as the inexorable consequence of their dehumanising circumstances. With disappointing predictability, shortly after Alma and Eugene consummate their love (in what would have been a better, affirming and as powerful ending) their future is blighted by melodrama, with Eugene succumbing to the inescapable fate of most black protagonist in mainstream narratives – uncontrollable violence followed by a lengthy prison term.
Mwenya Kabwe’s (Alba) is sensational; it is hard to take one’s eyes off her. David Johnson (Eugene) is laudable, though less successful with the Geechee accent which seems to restrict his emotional range. Together they play all the other characters in what are really two parallel monologues.
Orlandersmith is foremost a performance poet and a proponent of story-telling theatre. The writing is evocative, the characters vivid, the story compelling and although issue driven, she avoids the usual pedantic pitfalls.
But I confess I am not a fan of narrative theatre (an audio book does me just fine). Even during the few times Eugene and Alma do interact on stage they narrate the action and what they feel. There is much repetition and a straight two hours of parallel monologues is long for this format. Director Lara Bye had sensibly cut about 20 minutes, but the playwright attending the opening night reversed this sensible decision. Hopefully Bye will be given a freehand to exercise some judicious cuts. The audience will agree.
