Love and the anxiety of separation are concomitant. In a country unfortunately all too aware of the precariousness of life, Louw Venter (a.k.a Corné of the comic duo with Twakkie in The Most Amazing Show) as a young father has fretted about what would happen if his children were left behind. In his one-man play, Out of Time, an everyday family picnic is transformed into a terrifying confrontation with our mortality.
While at some horseplay with his brother, Lukas Nel (Venter) falls with his back on a rock paralysing him. As in Graham Weir’s far darker piece Brief Descriptions, from now on, he can speak his thoughts directly to the audience, but no one else can hear him. Nel, dying, watches his young son. The dramatic monologue that ensues is his paean to him.
The scenario is a neat conceit for the helplessness all parents feel to protect their children against life’s vagaries. It is also a natural opportunity to reflect on his own father – taking the good and breaking with the destructive patterns. Venter draws neat caricatures of Nel’s childhood gang of friends and their daredevil antics.
Venter exploits the thematic possibilities successfully, but together with director Rob van Vuuren, they haven’t quite optimised the full dramatic potential of this riveting set-up. Given the situation, Out of Time is a surprising (and fitting) celebration of life and love, but leans perhaps too cautiously towards the comic with an occasional emotional hiatus rather than a climax.
Besides his many talents, clowning clearly comes naturally, but Venter is a superb actor and I’d love to see him one day in a straight part in a solid play. It is well worth seeing Venter immersing himself in his own serious dramatic work.
Share on Facebook
Certain unique, comedic talents, you either get or you don’t. The legendary Goon Show is a case in point. Though seldom appealing to duller souls, they would have both ordinary and exceptionally intelligent people either rolling in the aisles or shaking their heads from boredom. The Most Amazing Show (TMAS) with its two homegrown goons, Corne and Twakkie, is another such instance; though thanks to copious, gratuitous buffoonery, it’s less restricted in its appeal to the dimmer wits. Unlike the Goons, with their remarkably clever use of language and their ability to exploit the medium of radio in truly groundbreaking ways, the appeal of TMAS is not as easily explained. They also use eccentric voices and peculiar mannerisms of speech, which until you have had time to tune in, make much of the dialogue and semantic jests utterly unintelligible. The humour is often puerile, but to some extent, so are belly laughs by nature. It’s a clown act, and as such, audiences should go prepared to participate in the game. Well aware of these two performers’ abilities, their subversive use of satire – targeting Jacob Zuma and Manto Tshabalala-Msimang this time – falls short of expectation, dissolving rapidly into little more than screwball antics. One sketch almost redeems the evening; this is when Corne (Louw Venter), and especially Twakkie (Rob van Vuuren), clamber over audience members in the auditorium, hugging and kissing and expressing their love. This is the direct opposite of the comedy of many of our popular comedians, notably slapstick Leon Schuster, who flourish on the comedy of pain and humiliation. For this, we love them. For the rest, many of us wag our heads bemusedly.
Share on Facebook
