Reviews Archive

Sainthood: Back to school

While boys’ schools promise to instil pride and passion and integrity and tradition, along with independent thought, a light has been shone on numerous incidents within the closeted classrooms, playing fields and dormitories that reveal there is not always so much to be proud about. Undoubtedly some of these schools provide their monies worth but

Milkman: Ingenious elision

  Anna Burns has written a Man Booker Prize-winning novel that will have you stopping, and shaking your head in wonder at the writing of it. A novel that is not about anything in particular. It provides no names, no places. Well, not as commonly assumed. Pronouns have no place here. Well, not of the

Langarm: Find a new vein

  Court injects new life into D6 while theatre reminisces The wound of empty land that is District Six can finally begin healing, perhaps. Late last month the Land Claims Court ordered the government to develop a plan for the resettlement of families pushed out by the apartheid bulldozer blades. And there’s timelines. The rural

The Pilgrimage: Toward the unholy

To direct is to be the outside eye. When you are also inside the work, this working definition of directing becomes blurry. There are many director-actors who have made careers out of this conflation. In the South African theatre industry, where financial resources are often low, solo performers have made an art out of being

What Was Is No More: Site of denial

There is something to be acknowledged in the privilege that university educated students have when they enter a community theatre festival such as the Zwakala Festival at the Market Theatre. Yes, the festival is undergoing its own change in identity. Yes, it has transformed due to financial constraints and a change in mandate due to

Ibala: Ooh! Aah! Pass the tissues

Walking into the theatre, the first image you see normally provides some sense of the play you’re about to watch. This wasn’t the case with Ibala. The preset image for the show was two womxn dressed in helper’s uniforms in a corner, standing as though outside holding cardboard placards. The signs read: ‘Helpers, we are