Chester Missing’s bald take on 30 years of DemoCrazy
● Last Wednesday night in the gilded Lyric theatre, slap bang in the heart of the casino pit of Gold Reef City — arguably the birthplace of all of Mzansi’s crackpot dreams and tainted frontier machinations — a packed audience worked through all the collective trauma of the last 30 years and beyond.
They laughed, hooted, heckled and probably shed some tears as they witnessed what was ostensibly a comedic tour de force roasting South Africa and our 30 years of “DemoCrazy“, but was actually a mass catharsis.
Directed by Kagiso Lediga the Comedy Central take on South Africa, fired up by Nando’s, brought practically every hard-hitting comic to the yard and gave them enough rope to hang the entire country.
From the many manga mangas sullying our faith in truth to the Marelize of “My Fok” fame, from Zulu nkabis to Liewe Heksie, everyone was equal before the deft comedic talents of Loyiso Gola, Skhumba, Mpho Popps, Celeste Ntuli, Joey Rasdien, John Vlismas, Rob van Vuuren, David Kau, Siv Ngesi, and many more.
At the centre of it all like a demented band leader or the twisted id of our benighted country — a white, bald, hysterical puppet gave voice to a crazed stream of invective and one liners. Chester Missing ladies and gentlemen.
I meet his animating force, Conrad Koch, for breakfast the morning after the show, which was recorded for broadcast on Comfedy Central on the night of the elections. He is in Billy G’s where breakfast for the Gold Reef City Hotel patrons is served.
It is what you would expect, baked beans, scrambled eggs and bacon territory. The coffee is straight from a scoff tin down at the mine shaft — hard core caffeination to sustain the punters at the slot machines.
When I walked in at 7.30am a solitary gambler in last night’s sequins was still at the slot machines. Conrad travels with Chester in his hand luggage, keeping him close. The other puppets (there are indeed others) — Putin ( who looks a bit like Prince Charles), a mosquito, an ostrich — could go missing but not the OG Chester.
As soon as he animates him — or as Chester says he puts his white hand up his “xxxx” ( we are a family newspaper) and gives him voice — an eerie situation unfolds: Chester really does appear to be a separate entity that has somehow been attached to Conrad.
They are like endlessly fascinating conjoined twins sharing an arm — but still two beings. And one of them has access to every politician in the country. The DemoCrazy show cuts to a screen where Chester does what he does best — vox pops with politicians while they are out campaigning. Everyone engages with Chester — Cyril laughs at his puns, Julius riffs with him, Steenhuisen makes a break for it and puts a surprising amount of distance between them really quickly, as does Jacob Zuma, but his MK strongmen end up massaging Chester’s neck.
“Chester exists, it’s crazy I remember once this Cosatu march had taken over all of Rosebank, holding the line you know, and all the international press was there, the BBC and so on, and Irving Jim was like — ‘hold on — Chester come here!’
“We have obviously spoken to politicians about why [they react as they do]. One EFF member said: ‘It’s weird, because obviously he doesn’t exist, but we’ve put so much life into him that he exists ... people in the struggle had a sense of humour ... humour is part of survival’
“And so, talking to Chester ... allows another gregarious version of themselves. It’s South African survival skills and allows them to deal with social politics without looking like they’re not taking it seriously. It’s a licence. ‘We can be silly now and you’re not going to judge me for being silly with Chester’.”
Conrad tells me that taxi drivers will stop in the street and shout out the window “Chester, Chester — Gqeberha”, which has become a shorthand term for his fans on social media.
“It’s joyful, South Africans love joy so much for obvious reasons, if you can connect with them — you just have to be politically aware enough to get your bullshit out the way.”
He is an astute scholar of human nature. From his days at the College of Magic, which helped him overcome the school bullies, to the UCT student comedy writers’ rooms with Kagiso Lediga, David Kau and Loyiso Gola, and his master’s degree in anthropology, everything has been in service of cultivating understanding.
“So my art is anthropology because it’s all about post-colonialism. Who am I as a white South African? What is the political dynamic, the middle-class world that we’ve got going here. The ANC and the fact that we have the most unequal society on earth that is in some degrees multiracial — who is benefiting now from the inequality, still white people — reflecting on that but still nailing struggle heroes, actual people who were on Robben island .
“I go roast these guys — who am I? You know, and it works so well because it reflects on yourself because you’ve spoken to yourself. “
By which he means he has really done the work over the years.
“Two shows ago it was on race, with ‘nice racists’, and Chester asks me if I’m racist at the start of the show because he can’t talk about race unless he knows, and then the rest of the show we’re going ‘but like, you kind of are racist’. And the audience needs those examples because racism is a bit like sexism — layers, you know. We have been doing sexism for millennia — you don’t just flick a switch and it’s gone.
“So that is one aspect of my work — the strong satire where you need a thick skin, but I have also leaned in to the safe and fun. There is still a bite. But [in] my next show — which is opening in Grahamstown for the 50th anniversary of the National Arts Festival — Despicable HeHe, there are mosquitos that only drink vegan blood, schoolteachers who do dad jokes, my ostrich who I build up on stage. It’s a very fun, normal show, as opposed to the hard-hitting satire, which is what South Africans want and what I need for my mental health.
“To be honest, the hard-hitting stuff you can do at election time, but for the rest of the time this country has too much really hectic stuff to say for comedy where people are coming to have a good time to be the solution.”
Which is also why he loves TikTok.
“So we have a much more diverse, more spread out political spectrum than there was before. I just think it’s not all that interesting. I think a lot of South Africans just want fun, which is why TikTok is always such a joy.
“I love TikTok, it’s iconic. It’s exponentially a better app than Twitter. It’s joyful. It’s playful. People say their real opinions, it’s kids dancing. It’s grannies telling you this is how you cope with stress. It’s everything and you can reach the whole world. So I had a video about Tupperware that went viral .
“If your house is burning down, which would your mother save first — you or the Tupperware? And people said the Tupperware — hilarious. The video had millions of views — it went viral in Malaysia, Kuala Lumpur. It’s just has so much reach and joy in this playful, politically complex environment. When I go out into the streets everyone speaks to Chester.
“So it’s something that is visually really arresting, it is very diverse for the rest of the world — who are these people? They are so complex, everyone is there — this lady looks like she’s Malaysian, he clearly looks black, but could be from anywhere. So I think that there’s an immense need for a coming together. I think that joy, personal life balance, is something that’s really exportable and fun.”