News on your favorite shows, specials & more!

BWW Reviews: (Un)Making Men in MOFFIE a Vision for Dance That Matters

By: Jan. 28, 2015
Get Access To Every Broadway Story

Unlock access to every one of the hundreds of articles published daily on BroadwayWorld by logging in with one click.




Existing user? Just click login.

Richard Gau and Bailey Snyman in MOFFIE

Billed as Bailey Snyman's dance interpretation of André Carl van der Merwe's novel, MOFFIE sets itself a demanding task in adapting and translating the themes of Van der Merwe's harrowing novel. Having first premiered when Snyman was the Standard Bank Young Artists Award Winner for Dance in 2012, the piece aims to examine the violent dehumanisation to which white South African men, and particularly homosexual men, were subjected as a part of their conscripted service to the South African Defence Force during the early 1980s. With a great deal of the complexity evident in the novel around the (un)making of men in South Africa diluted, MOFFIE lacks in performance the richness and emotional impact that the work that inspired it had.

What dilutes Van Der Merwe's approach to the subject matter is Snyman's choice to focus almost exclusively on the narrative of life in the army. The action of the novel reaches back to the protagonist's childhood in the 1960s and 1970s, his birth coinciding with the declaration of South Africa as a republic in 1961. There are some cursory nods to that part of the novel, with a father's shame at having a "moffie" for a son expressed in dialogue, but the sense that what was going on in the army at the time was a horrific extension of what was going on in South African families and schools is never quite captured. The (un)making of men and the suppression homosexuality was - and is - far more insidious than the overt tortures portrayed on stage in MOFFIE.

I say "is", because the current relevance of the dance play's themes is also referenced in MOFFIE. Voiceovers relating to the "Don't Ask Don't Tell" controversies in the United States Armed Forces recall more recent human rights violations on the same topic. But one must ask - how much more relevant would making those links to our own context be? How does the South African National Defence Force deal with homosexuals today? How progressive are their gender policies? Do they unmake men while claiming to make them in the way that the South African Defence Force did? These are questions that MOFFIE should be asking when drawing links between its historical narrative and the current situation in this country if it wishes to pursue the local relevance of the piece's themes. These stories remain untold in South Africa's contemporary theatrical landscape.

Bailey Snyman and Nicola Haskins in MOFFIE
Photo credit: Coenraad Visser

Looking at the piece itself, MOFFIE moves through several chronological episodes in the experience of life in the army, following in particular two characters that trade in the specificity of the characters in the novel for a more "everyman" approach, a technique which works well in the medium of dance theatre. Some of the sequences are gripping, including the pas de deux between Snyman himself and Richard Gau that is danced to James Blunt's "I Really Want You", an anachronistic song choice that nonetheless contributes towards creating the best moments in the dance play. The two partner one another again later, in a sequence that develops the playful eroticism of the earlier piece into mature support. These two pieces give an emotional core to MOFFIE, which resonates most strongly when it gets personal. The sequence in which the soldiers are tortured is also striking, with the tiny movements of rifles nudging bodies eliciting sheer terror. Snyman's choreography really succeeds in sequences that are less obviously flashy, those which are most invested in storytelling. He makes good use of repeated physical motifs and creates some gripping images during the dance play's duration. When he moves into more generic "army life" sequences, his work is less compelling. Likewise, ironically, the piece that feels the most contrived - in which the company dons heels to mock the South African Defence Force by portraying it through a queer lens - is one of the biggest audience pleasers. But it's an easy joke that plays too long in the context of MOFFIE as a whole, adding little to what the piece has to say overall.

Snyman and Gau are joined onstage by four other dancers, James Bradley, Stefania du Toit, Nicola Haskins and Henk Opperman. Shifting from role to role as required by the piece, the dancers are versatile and attack the choreography with passion, although there are times when the ensemble work feels under-rehearsed.

The company of MOFFIE
Photo credit: Coenraad Visser

One of the greatest successes of MOFFIE is Wilhelm Disbergen's set and lighting design. Disbergen uses army ground cover to create a suspended ceiling above the stage that defines the space beautifully, immediately establishing the unsettling mood that the play maintains almost without respite. The costume design, by Jenny Stretch, is less pleasing, feeling a little too basic in its approach. The sound plot for the show blends music with recorded speech, which is sometimes unclear; the right approach, but not technically as sharp as it should be.

MOFFIE does not fully fulfil the high expectations it sets up simply because of its edgy subject matter and incredible source material. But it does accomplish something important within the context of South African dance theatre. It presents a full-length piece that attempts to deal with complex issues. That's enough to hope that MOFFIE is a piece that earns the support of local audiences so that Snyman and his Matchbox Theatre Collective can develop their work and continue to try and make dance that matters. Because dance does matter, and its power to connect audiences to the world in a different way than we might expect is something that has the power to push us forward as we negotiate our everyday realities.

MOFFIE is presented by Brett Gage and the Matchbox Theatre Collective. Bookings for the show are through Computicket or Artscape Dial-a-Seat 021 421 7695. MOFFIE carries an age restriction of 10 years is advisable.



Reader Reviews

To post a comment, you must register and login.






Videos