By BRUCE DENNILL
The Ugly Noo Noo / Directed by Janet Buckland / Mannie Manim Theatre, Market Theatre, Newtown, Johannesburg
There has to be something in a piece – particularly a one-man show – for it to make a similar impact to its debut run when returning to the stage fully 36 years later. Its star, Andrew Buckland, is enough of a something to begin with, being arguably South Africa’s most influential exponent of physical theatre and theatrical clowning. But there is also, in the script, enough edginess and contemporary relevance to make the story accessible to the whole generation of audiences who are seeing the play for the first time in this revival run.
Placing an insect at the centre of the concept you build a project around is a curious notion, but it does allow for a great deal of character interpretation, especially when a human actor gets a chance to pretend to be a creature with extra limbs and eyes and ears in its knees, and has the talent and training to make transforming between species look like the most natural thing in the world.
The Parktown Prawn – the ‘ugly noonoo’ in question – is not nearly as prevalent a threat to South Africans’ social sanity as it used to be (do we need to thank the hadedas for that?), but Buckland’s short preamble as the lights come up does put those fortunates who’ve never found one of the very creepy crawlies in their shoes in the picture as far as why they’re worth writing a whole play about.
The show’s first act introduces the surrealist, Alice In Wonderland-esque perspective that informs the whole story – insects talk and seek to connect with humans on subject matter that could influence the fate of the planet. Buckland completely commits to the outlandishness that such a concept requires, and the consummate ease – the comfort – with which he occupies the empty stage and metamorphoses between different humans and Parktown Prawns makes watching him at work immensely satisfying. The second act introduces more characters and more themes, including some satire that still connects (or now connects, in the case of a few clearly updated references) with politics and philosophies that are as damaging now as they were in the Eighties.
The two halves feel a little like different, linked stories rather than one straight-through narrative, and the social commentary is fairly gentle (unlike a nasty, sweary chicken that makes an appearance in Act Two), but keeping the piece more in the middle of the mainstream and less political will help ensure its future longevity and the possibility of putting it on whatever the regime at the time is up to.
See it to see Buckland in his native habitat and to understand why he is so respected for his work as a performer, creator and educator.