Review: Mongiwekhaya's I SEE YOU / NGIYAKUBONA / EK SIEN JOU / NDIYAKUBONA Negotiates Essential South African Territory

In his introduction to the published text of John Kani's NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH, South African novelist, poet and playwright Zakes Mda wrote that the play 'exposes the shortcomings of reconciliation as espoused by our political leaders, who focused on reconciliation between white and blacks, and forgot that there is a dire need for reconciliation among the blacks themselves.' Although reconciliation was perhaps too easily achieved in the dénouement of NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH, Mda's observation highlighted the complexities of attaining reconciliation in post-apartheid South Africa, the conscious denial of which has played a crucial role in precipitating many of the events we see playing out in South Africa today. This particular facet of the reconciliatory process has since been the subject of many other plays, with Kani himself returning rather less successfully to the theme in his 2014 play MISSING, which completed a run at the Artscape Theatre just last week. Mongiwekhaya's I SEE YOU / NGIYAKUBONA / EK SIEN JOU / NDIYAKUBONA joins the ranks of these works, placing the issue of reconciliation within and between black communities within the wider context of South Africa's fractured rainbow nation - an image that was perhaps more idealistic than true.

In I SEE YOU / NGIYAKUBONA / EK SIEN JOU / NDIYAKUBONA, Ben meets Skinn on a night out in Johannesburg. On their way home, they are stopped two by police officers, Buthelezi and Masinga. Buthelezi feels invisible, unseen by a wife who has taken out a restraining order against him, by those who might promote him in the police force, by a generation of young black adults who show no obvious gratitude for the sacrifices he made as a freedom fighter. Unable to beat the corrupt system of which he is a part and to which he contributes, he lashes out at his wife, hoping that she will see him before the restraining order takes hold, and at Ben, who represents everything that embitters Buthelezi about born-free millennials whose knowledge of or respect for their cultural heritage lacks depth.

Mongiwekhaya's gift for writing dialogue is clear, with the banter between Ben and Skinn as well as that between Buthelezi and Masinga working well to get through the expository scenes. There are moments too when his use of imagery speaks as clearly as his words, for example when Buthelezi puts on Vaseline at the start of the play. His ability to establish and develop motifs also serves the play well, as in the foreshadowing of a deconstructed pantsula dance at a nightclub in the early scenes of the play. (Luyana Sidiya's work as the production's movement director amplifies the idea, using severe and syncopated movements associated with pantsula in both sequences.) He also does not shy away from the difficult conflicts into which his narrative places his characters. The best scenes of the play are those that delve into the relationship between Ben, Buthelezi and Masinga, filled with abuse and torture that are difficult to watch and impossible to escape in the intimate thrust stage that has been constructed in The Fugard's Studio Theatre.

The choice of spatial arrangement reflects a triumph on the part of director Noma Dumezweni and design team Soutra Gilmour and Richard Howell. The set, spattered like grey and black tar, along with a lighting plot that augments its volume and depth as well as delivering the goods when it comes to mood, are fantastic in their own right. Combined with the omnipresent faces of the audience members that return one's gaze whichever way you look, the visual world of the play comes together in an unbeatable fashion. The audience becomes complicit in what is taking place on stage. We share in the hidden torture to which Buthelezi subjects Ben. We experience what we cannot see, in the reactions of faces that can.

Indeed, Dumezweni's work in staging the text throughout is first-rate, manipulating concrete spaces like a car-seat, once they are established, into less literal permutations. When the play suffers momentary lapses in tautness and clarity, as it does from time to time despite its considerable strengths, Dumezweni is there to drive forward the production and support the actors in choices that pull the loose threads together.

For although it is clear what Mongiwekhaya wants to express in his play, sometimes the script of I SEE YOU / NGIYAKUBONA / EK SIEN JOU / NDIYAKUBONA is convoluted. The introduction of a Skinn's ex-boyfriend, for instance, is all but superfluous, a caricature that indicates a particular attitude couched in whiteness. A plot hole arises due to the ubiquitous presence of mobile phones, used throughout the play but left unaddressed when Ben is unable to explain to Shinn where the police have taken him and could so easily share his location point or call someone else for help - but attempts neither. And as he approaches the climax of the play, which hinges on a highly conceptual exchange of dialogue between Ben and Buthelezi, Mongiwekhaya struggles to balance the agency assumed in that moment by the two individuals. As is the wont, it seems, when it comes to plays that deal with social fracture and reconciliation, this makes the resolution feel just that much easier than it should.

The company of actors in I SEE YOU / NGIYAKUBONA / EK SIEN JOU / NDIYAKUBONA function as a tight ensemble, with a standout performance from Desmond Dube as Buthelezi. Those who have forgotten that there is more to Dube than his light-hearted frolicking in Leon Schuster movies and SUBURBAN BLISS will be surprised at his resourcefulness here. His is an excellent, multi-layered performance. He is excellently supported by Sibusiso Mamba , by turns tolerant of and frustrated by his sidekick's volatility. As their superior, Lunga Radebe oozes the kind of sleaze that manages to stay above board.

Ben is played gently by Bayo Gbadamosi, who makes both the character's naiveté and coming of age through this story compelling. As Skinn, Jordan Baker manages to assimilate South African rhythms most convincingly into a sympathetic performance. In two smaller roles, Kim Sanssoucie delivers clearly delineated work as the effusive DJ Mavovo and worn down Dr Pravesh. Austin Hardiman is unable to elevate James from the cypher that he is, also struggling to adopt a consistent South African dialect.

I SEE YOU / NGIYAKUBONA / EK SIEN JOU / NDIYAKUBONA is an important step forward in dramatising the ideas that Mda highlighted upon the publication of NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH fourteen years ago. By the time Buthelezi spits out his truth to Ben - 'You know white people think we're the same? We both look black. But only one of us is black.' - the audience has known for a while that the territory we are in is dangerous, dealing with one of the many multifarious ideas that are essential to negotiate if there is any hope for reconciliation in this country.

I SEE YOU runs at the Fugard's Studio Theatre until 28 May 2016, on Tuesdays through Saturdays at 20:00 with Saturday matinees at 16:00. Tickets, ranging from R120 to R170, can be booked through Computicket online, by phone on 0861 915 8000, or at any Shoprite Checkers outlet. Bookings can also be made at the Fugard Theatre's box office on 021 461 4554.

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