‘Kunene and the King’ Examines Apartheid from a Different Angle
Rich with human detail, "Kunene and the King" explores the terrible cost and legacy of South Africa's apartheid.
It can’t be easy to write a play that successfully cries out to the world “Look what happened here! Understand!” Many fall way too hard on the side of over-explaining, feeding the drama with fiction-busting expository and presenting their characters as either heroes or villains to make every point crystal clear.
Their hearts may be in the right place, but they so woefully underestimate their audience that they lose it. The truth is, everyone who has made it to adulthood knows that life is messy and that even the “good guys” stumble and struggle. The plays that can deliver their message amid this human ambiguity are the powerhouses in this tradition, playwright Branden Jacobs-Jenkins being a prime example.
With this said, John Kani’s Kunene and the King, lands just about on the right side of the balance. He is eager to educate on the terrible cost and legacy of South Africa’s apartheid, but his lens — two men thrown together by circumstance — is rich with human detail.
It’s also a cleverly-layered telling, surfacing a thoughtful metaphor on the change in the country’s power dynamics, and — thanks to the production’s simple artistry — offers a strong sense of cultural context. Put simply, it achieves a lot, even if it occasionally loses itself to the message.
The premise is beguiling: a Black male nurse, Lunga Kunene, arrives to care for the ailing Jack Morris, a former actor who expects the world to revolve around his thoroughly entitled self. Disgruntled that the agency hasn’t sent a biddable young woman, Morris turns into the world’s worst patient, moving between the comic and the grim as the truth of his prognosis emerges.
The men knock uneasily along until they discover a shared interest in Shakespeare. Even as this brings joy, it moves from mild diversion into comment on the many oppressions of apartheid — not just the violence, but the gutting of culture and education. The men increasingly spar over the realities — and importance of voicing — the Black experience until Morris’s illness and anger forces a reckoning.
Director Ruben Santiago-Hudson does a good job of pacing the comic with the somber, ensuring that the allusions to life with illness is neither over nor under done. And he manages the expository well, keeping it as natural as possible as it peppers the growing relationship between the men. But truth be told, there is rather of lot of it, and if it doesn’t quite break the fiction, it bends it.
And that is never to say that the goal is always realism — just a certain flow. Case in point is the beautifully envisioned Isithunywa, a woman in traditional dress who appears three times to sing. Each time she owns the space, she is a reminder of the power of the ancient civilization that may have been suppressed but has always been vibrant, alive, and sustaining. Ntebo is spectacular in the role, both as a charismatic embodiment but also for her velvety tones and striking range. She fits perfectly here, not as a character but as personification, and it works.
Indeed, Isithunywa is so powerfully presented that it raises another of the play’s few wobbles. As Morris’s symptoms become life-changing and his anger abusive, there comes a most pivotal moment: what does Kunene owe this man? What does he choose to give him?
When the choice is made, Isithunywa steps forward out of the darkness to sing. The moment is so profound in its many layers and beauty that it feels like the natural place to end this story.
When the next — and truly final — scene arrives, it’s almost anticlimactic. It is also, unfortunately, one of the less convincing as it moves between the silly and the serious with none of the earlier, more skilled cadence.
As a two-man play, much rides on chemistry between the actors, and the dynamic here is interesting. As Morris, Edward Gero plays it to type, giving his former actor all the bluster and self-importance one would expect, as well as the comedy it invites. He does an admirable job describing Morris’s growing dread and well meets the demands of this very physical role. There are, however, a few times when it’s a little hard to tell whether it is the character or Gero chewing the scenery.
As Kunene, John Kani is more performative, conscious of the messaging inherent in his character. When he reveals that he has learned Shakespeare in his own language, he basically breaks the fourth wall to deliver it. It’s frustrating that Kani’s delivery is not as clear as it needs to be.
The bottom line is that the wavelengths are somewhat mismatched. If it dampens the connection, it doesn’t kill it: there is still the sense of a powerful exchange between these men, and there is much that lingers of both after the curtain falls.
If there is another missed beat to mention, it’s the choice to prominently feature a menorah on Morris’s shelf. As his religion is never mentioned, one can’t help but wonder whether it’s offered to suggest parallels between apartheid and the crisis in the Middle East. If so, it’s a shame, as it does neither justice. Perhaps a more timely and relevant adornment would have been a toy Tesla.
Kunene and the King (★★★☆☆) runs through March 23 at The Shakespeare’s Klein Theatre, 450 7th St. NW. For tickets, call 202-547-1122 or visit www.shakespearetheatre.org.
Support Metro Weekly’s Journalism
These are challenging times for news organizations. And yet it’s crucial we stay active and provide vital resources and information to both our local readers and the world. So won’t you please take a moment and consider supporting Metro Weekly with a membership? For as little as $5 a month, you can help ensure Metro Weekly magazine and MetroWeekly.com remain free, viable resources as we provide the best, most diverse, culturally-resonant LGBTQ coverage in both the D.C. region and around the world. Memberships come with exclusive perks and discounts, your own personal digital delivery of each week’s magazine (and an archive), access to our Member's Lounge when it launches this fall, and exclusive members-only items like Metro Weekly Membership Mugs and Tote Bags! Check out all our membership levels here and please join us today!
You must be logged in to post a comment.