Tag: Cape Town

My Daddy’s lady parts

It is Emma (Kaya Toft Loholt), the family’s younger daughter, who makes this work sing with a poignancy that hurts, it is so finely tuned. She’s a deadpan youngster, subject to the whims of grown-ups. Her passion lies in kicking the ball; she hates the colour pink and girly frocks.

How to whistle Daddy’s tune

Telling your own story with its sensitive veils of family nuance is never easy. The “I” in the tale can be tyrannical and cause more damage than healing. Bo Petersen’s portrayal of apartheid and of her father’s choices is compassionate and complex. You weep with empathy; you stave off judgement.

Sons and brothers

In ‘Stinkhout’, Frank Opperman and Wilhelm van der Walt take you flawlessly through three generations of white South African men. Hands-on emotion is hard. It’s embarrassing. Shame-worthy. They’ve been definitively schooled by defining moments of war and loss. Mental illness flows through the family’s blood. Taboo must be kept taboo.

Ode to the women who wait

This tale is about the women who have awaited their absent men for hundreds of years. It is also about men who go into the world to create lives for themselves, knowing – or maybe forgetting – about the domesticity born of innocent love, that waits for them in a rural place.

Stand by me

In ‘Bush Brothers’, premised on de Witt’s experiences in the Angolan war, reflected on by war historians as South Africa’s ‘Vietnam’ in terms of the damage it wrought and its purposelessness, you get to understand the horror of violent sudden loss, the impact of friendship and terror of the unknown.

Health bills clean and filthy

‘Nye’ is about parliamentary fights and the helplessness of being on call at a parent’s deathbed. It offers one of the deepest understandings of a death scene you may experience on a live stage, and interpretations of iconic figures such as Bevan, Churchill and Chamberlain to knock your socks off.

Lights, tunnels and a polyester pooch

My Brilliant Divorce a tale which features everything from the secret medical horrors that eating too much beetroot brings, to the mortifying business of buying a dildo for the first time. Normington sparkles with credibility and her own wonderful sense of the ridiculous and under Committie’s direction. it’s pure delight.