A shared responsibility
FOUR SMALL GODS. Written and directed by Joanna Evans, with Iman Isaacs, Richard September, Amy Louise Wilson, Siya Sikawuti, Nandipha Tavores Calburn, Matthew King. Design by Francois Knoetze. Sound design by John Withers. Lighting design by Jon Keevy. At The Magnet Theatre until November 10. TRACEY SAUNDERS reviews AN oft-quoted saying attributed to Native American Obomsawin says, “when the last tree has been cut down, the last fish caught, the last river poisoned, only then will we realize that one cannot eat money.”
While in previous years this may have been regarded with the same derision that climate change experts were, there is a growing acknowledgement that end times are not the sole prevail of religious fundamentalists.
A recent analysis by the WWF confirmed that the number of wild animals on Earth has halved in the past 40 years. Caused by unsustainable agriculture practices, unethical hunting and rampant destruction of the environment amongst other things, this is the backdrop of Four Small Gods.
The first weekend in November saw Cape Town awake to a flood warning as heavy rain lashed the peninsula. Ironically the storm began the day after the opening of the new dystopian play set in the days after a severe flood has devastated Earth. The script was the winner of the Imbewu Script Competition in 2014 and it has all the hallmarks of a winning piece of writing. The topical subject is dealt with equal measures of wit and insight. A storm, the “kind where the whole world drowns”, has decimated the earth and left a handful of survivors. The lone survivors are a rhino, a panther, a dog and a human.
Each animal is a proxy for the various categories assigned to animals by humans – exotic, wild and domestic.
The rhino is the exotic and endangered wild beast and their plight is just one of the conservation themes that weave through the play. Repeating the mantra “where I am is where I belong” with little trace of irony, Isaacs replete with a headlamp torch as her horn is an absolute delight. Her recent appearances in Full Stops on Your Face, What Goes Up and Nat have cemented her reputation as a solid and versatile performer. Her accent which is reminiscent of that which she used as the police officer in FSOYF sets her up as the comic of the piece. Her situation is far from comical though and she imparts words of wisdom interspersed with laments about the demise of her species.
Siya Sikawuti is a lithe panther. Torn between being classified as an oversized cat and a fierce exotic predator he prowls on the stage with menace. He scowls and growls and tries in vain to be fierce. Scratch the surface though and his soft feline character is exposed.
The dog exhibits all the anthropomorphic characteristics which are regularly attributed to them by humans. Richard September rolls over, plays fetch and bounces around the stage with abandon and abundant loyalty. His physical theatre skills come to the fore as he masters each move.
Playing an animal on stage is no easy feat and can go horribly wrong. All three of the characters manage to imply the characteristics of the species they portray without resorting to hammy acting techniques or contrived movements.
There are subtle, yet definite gestures of the hands, a purposefulness of stride, an easy hanging of the limbs, an inclination of the head which imply a studied performance and are a credit to Evans’s directorial skill.
The three are joined by the sole human, Emma. At the outset of their journey she proposes that they play a game. Acknowledging that they “are all in the same boat” quite literally, they agree to the rules where there is no individual winner. She emphasises that their survival is dependent on group effort, something that is severely tested. While she laments the loss of unicorns and laughing and mud she becomes increasingly aware of how desperate their situation is. One of the most memorable monologues of the production is her attempts at establishing a hierarchy of beings.
The hilarious interchange between her and the animals sees everything from Shakespeare to dragons being placed on this imaginary hierarchy of value.
The very serious implication of who rules over what is dealt with with humour and some very amusing linguistic acrobatics. Wilson is perfect in this role. She is very human and in the same way that the animals embody the characteristics of animals rather than performing as them so to does she represent humanity with all its failings and fragility.
Young Nandipha Tavores Calburn slips on and off the stage. An angelic vision whose presence is noted by the animals, while remaining invisible to the human. She adds an element of innocence and mysterious wonder to the piece.
Evans shows scant regard for the fourth wall which is broken several times through the show, physically and verbally. The uneasy shifting of the audience during some of Emma’s monologues indicate their awareness of their complicity in the disaster. They are not merely observers, but accomplices in the unfolding tragedy. Unwitting does not mean unknowing and the responsibility for environmental degradation and species extinction is a shared one. Emma herself responds to the accusation levelled by the panther with an impassioned, “I didn’t do it. People did it. But not me. I'm just me, I'm not all people. We’re not all the same”. Her strident reply rings hollow though and even she doesn't seem to believe the words that she uses in defence of human tyranny. While she doesn't directly accuse the audience the allegations are implicit in much of what she says. Her final monologue contains some memorable lines, but they are lost in the length of it.
Evans has assembled an ace design team including Francois Knoetze. His recent exhibition, Cape Mongo, at the National Arts Festival earlier this year featured large creatures composed from waste material. Following this theme of creating art from waste he has assembled the set from items gathered at the Woodstock Waste Depot. The floating vessel on which the motley crew survive is reassembled during the course of the play as it responds to the ravages of the waves. It is simple yet striking and the cloud like structures suspended at the back of the stage seem to take on a life of their own during the performance.
The soundscape is sublime. A sense of ominous foreboding is evoked with an eclectic range of instruments. The entire production had a sense of Complicite about it. The London-based theatre company whose style Stephen Knaper referred to as visual and devised theatre with an emphasis on strong, corporeal, poetic and surrealist image supporting text was evoked often.
Evans has created a surreal landscape inhabited with imagined, yet totally believable characters with a thought provoking script.
There are enough contemporary cultural references to satisfy a teenage audience, visual material to captivate children and content with sufficient intellectual rigour for an adult audience making it perfect family fare.