By BRUCE DENNILL
Marabi / Directed by Arthur Molepo / John Kani Theatre, Market Theatre, Newtown, Johannesburg
Revived – the original production was staged in 1982 and there were other productions in the 1990s – as part of the celebrations of the Market Theatre’s 50th anniversary year (and the complex task of honouring all the significant artistic contributions during this last half century), the musical Marabi is a rich, moving evocation of life in 1930s Doornfontein and, poignantly, what life is still like in many South African homes. It explores – sensitively, intelligently – lives made almost unbearably difficult by institutionalised racism, as well as entrenched patriarchy and cultural traditions that didn’t serve women well then or now.
An extraordinary cast – doubling as an extraordinary choir – working in a single space (a beautiful courtyard set by Wilhelm Disbergen) to create an engrossing roller-coaster of joy, sadness, shock, generosity, cruelty, courage and loyalty. There are no weak links, but a few special mentions are merited. Sello Sebotsane as husband, father and man of the house Mabongo makes his character by turns charming and autocratic, caught between trying to do the right thing and being hemmed in by what he believes his culture is telling him to do, all while adding luxuriant bas vocals to the musical numbers. As his wife, Noma Ngoma is a feisty, fierce matriarch, protective of her brood and pushing back against the more oppressive societal norms to the greatest degree she feels she can. Their daughter, played by Gabisile Tshabalala, clearly communicates the angst felt by a young woman wanting to find her own way while grappling with the restrictions imposed by her family, whom she loves as she struggles with them. Mapula Mafole plays a younger child who is staying with the family, injecting unbridled enthusiasm and naivety into a character who comes across as wholly believable as perhaps ten years old, making the discovery that Mafole is in her mid-thirties almost unbelievably surprising. Josias Dos Moleele, as a record executive intent on making the most – for personal and commercial gain – of Mabongo’s daughter’s has hilarious echoes of Henry Higgins from My Fair Lady – and Katleho Moloi, as a smooth by superficial young musician with a way with the ladies, manages to be both likeable and abhorrent.
There is great joy in the story’s happier moments and in the multi-layered harmonies draped over Mduduzi Mtshali’s expert piano playing. There are laughs and then expressions of dismay, sometimes in the same line of dialogue, as characters all too easily recognisable as people in your circle or aspects of yourself offer enticing patter before cruelly prioritising their own agendas. There is clear communication regarding the strength and support in communities as monetarily poor as the one portrayed, alongside delicate depictions of the breakdowns and anguish the stress of living under an autocratic regime creates. There is commentary on the plight of migrant workers, on women’s rights and how they are ignored and trampled on, on the emasculation of men by political systems built on racism (and how those men act out as a result) and on the aforementioned traditions – useful at some point in creating societal structures that may have simplified community life in the past but which are now often excuses for self-serving behaviours.
This is a rich tapestry of both ideas and talent and Arthur Molepo, a cast member in the original production of the piece, uses his intimate knowledge of the story and the music to get brilliant individual and ensemble performances out of his cast. You’ll leave the theatre both celebrating the production and the richness of the culture at its heart and heartsore, wishing that those characters left hurt and broken by the events that played out on stage could have found their way to happier spaces.
Superb, engrossing entertainment.