By BRUCE DENNILL
Bitter Winter / Directed by Lesedi Job / Studio, Pieter Toerien’s Montecasino Theatre, Fourways
Given the theme of this play – the cruelty a competitive industry (in this case, theatre specifically and entertainment in general) obsessed with the next big thing inflicts on its most loyal ageing servants – there is a desperate pathos in the script being the latest offering from Paul Slabolepszy. With a back catalogue featuring nearly 40 plays, most of them popular, award-winning and performed all over the workd and some of them enduring cultural touchstones in South Africa, Slabolepszy is also a co-founder of the Space Theatre (with John Kani, Yvonne Bryceland and Athol Fugard) and the Market Theatre (with Mannie Manim and Barney Simon). It’s impossible to argue against his importance to South African theatre specifically and theatre in general. With all of that in mind, Bitter Winter should, in any just context, arrive with suitable fanfare, settling into a large venue for a long run.
With that not being the case (for many of the same reasons, no doubt, that Andre Odendaal’s character Jean-Louis Lourens is initially not given the respect he deserves in the play), there are a great many reasons to be grateful for this piece debuting, despite the challenges – common to almost all new original work, it must be said – in bringing it to the stage.
Frankie Van Straten’s set gives the compact Studio Theatre stage depth and levels far beyond what the available space suggests is possible, with the visual effect of a large Johannesburg cityscape extending back into the distance particularly effective. Oliver Hauser’s lighting colours in all the gaps and gives the piece a poetically shifting mood as time passes for the characters.
All the action takes place in one room – a spartan waiting room for auditions or callbacks, with the bare minimum of catering and a few old office chairs. First to arrive is Lourens, a septuagenarian theatre actor who seems to be a shoe-in for a role in an upcoming film. His appearance and behaviour confirms his current station in life – desperate for work and validation and equally desperate not to show how far from the height of his success he has fallen. He is later joined by Prosper Mangane (Oarabile Ditsele), a confident young movie star who is sure of his talent and value and is used to having staff and colleagues pander to his needs. The latter is initially happy to stay cocooned beneath his headphones and behind his phone as both actors wait for the film’s director to pitch up to discuss his requirements. Linking the two leads with what is going on behind the scenes is Felicia Willemse (Chantal Stanfield), an assistant charged with the tough job of balancing reputations, egos and timetables and apparently not entirely emotionally up for it.
Slabolepszy’s development of his narrative is beautifully paced and considered as Jean-Louis and Prosper feel each other out, trip over stereotypes (age-, race-, language- and experience-related), share disillusionments and triumphs and begin to understand the ongoing arcs that have shaped each of their characters. The writing cleverly and profoundly reveals how the men’s experiences overlap when it comes to struggles – poverty, disrespect and more – though at different times in their lives and for different reasons. It shows the power of collaboration and being willing to learn and it shows the extraordinary power of art to cross boundaries and connect people. And it does all of this without the slightest bit of cheesiness, which is a testament to Slabolepszy’s observational skills and expertise in translating the realities of human interactions for the page and stage – and to director Lesedi Job’s careful curating of the action and the complex emotion behind it.
Odendaal is superb as Lourens, a man trying to preserve his battered dignity but on the edge of failing to do once and for all. He is bluster and doubt, frailty and authority, shabbiness and gravitas. Ditsele does brilliantly to keep pace with his experienced colleague (actor mirrors character), balancing the understandable cockiness of a very successful young man with the ingrained values borne of being brought up with next to nothing and understanding the importance of respecting senior members of communities as one of the outcomes. And Stanfield manages, with relatively little stage time, to convincingly showcase the mix of outcomes-based pressure and stress and empathy that makes even an average day in a creative industry so emotionally taxing.
This is a special piece of work that will speak loudly and directly to anyone in or affiliated with the theatre, film or television industries, and just as significantly to anyone who is uncertain of their place in the space in which they make a living or in which their passion is most invested. If you aren’t the person reflected on stage, you will know someone who is – or more than one.
A portion of the proceeds of ticket sales for this show will go to the Theatre Benevolent Fund, which does essential work supporting artists who need financial aid to survive. This is reason enough to buy a ticket (or five), but you will be moved and nourished by the story and the way it is crafted, so go for that reason too.