It is a most unenviable assignment to write a negative notice for the latest play by our greatest playwright. More the pity, since none of Fugard’s last five plays has had as much care and love lavished upon them as in this production by director Ross Devenish. The attention to detail is extraordinary. Designer Saul Radomsky’s set is an aesthetically accomplished work of art in its own right, transporting us to the very heart of the Karoo. Fugard should be pleased.
Unfortunately, no amount of direction except the right to cut at will, can rescue a play that although inoffensive in its errors, is overwritten, repetitive, sentimental and prosaic.
Coming Home concludes the sad life of Nieu Bethesda’s prodigal daughter, Veronica Jonkers (played by a lacklustre Bronwyn van Graan), started in Valley Song, Fugard’s first play after democracy. Much of act one is an unnecessary and contrived retelling of that story. The play picks up thereafter, thanks to Devenish accomplishing the difficult task of extracting a largely convincing performance from Devan Walbrugh in a substantial part for an 11-year-old actor, and to David Isaacs as the chuckleheaded Alfred Witbooi, who does a highly commendable job swimming against a tide of dull nostalgia for an imagined past.
Fugard proceeds to tick off the issues of the day, giving each distant and thinly informed treatment: Veronica has AIDS; her husband was killed in a xenophobic brawl; her child, a budding wordsmith, must assume the head of the household.
The most poignant result of Athol Fugard’s Coming Home is that it reveals just how far from home its author now is. At one point, he seems to criticise his own dotage, asking, what is the value of a whole lot of useless memories? He has not given us a satisfactory answer here, except to suggest that hopefully a grandson will write a better play.
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Apologies to Broadway songstress Christine Pedi, currently performing Great Dames, as I am devoting a sizeable portion of this blog entry to comments about the NewSpace Theatre.
After opening with great promise and a considerable amount of goodwill from the theatre community of Cape Town and beyond, who were expecting an independent theatre focusing on dramatic plays in continuation of the venerable tradition of the People’s Space, what we appear to have ended up with is another tribute show and comedy revue venue. And the line-up ahead looks as unpromising. We have enough of these style venues.
The NewSpace is a theatre with a great history, but apparently now in search of an identity. We’re glad the lights are on, even if it is thanks to some mediocre programming choices. Add to this technical incompetence, and the whole project is in serious danger of failing. After the opening production of Assassins, I have yet to see a production here without mishaps. Pedi’s show is a technical no-brainer, but backstage couldn’t even get a stand and a microphone to work. After interval we sat in darkness because she hadn’t been cued properly. The following night, upstairs in the other theatre, all the sound cues were missed leaving the cast to improvise. Etcetera.
Pedi is a natural Broadway belter, an innate comic and a versatile actor. Her repertoire includes refined vocal mimicry of female legends and amusing parodies by Forbidden Broadway lyricist Gerard Alessandrini. Her best impersonations are of Bette Davis, Judy Dench, Ethel Merman and Liza Minnelli. There is slightly too much rambling editorial between the songs; the name-dropping doesn’t have much cachet with local audiences
It’s an accomplished show, but better suited to a relaxed venue such as On Broadway where Pedi would be better served, far more at home and where the audience for this genre already exists.
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