Kunene and the King

1.24.2020

Sometimes it's a good idea to go to a show and know nothing about it.  I did know this play was written by a South African actor to commemorate the 25th anniversary of the end of Apartheid.  I didn't know his brother had died of liver cancer on Dec. 19, 2019 until I read the program while waiting in the front row for the show to start.  I would be looking up all night, which would be good for my teacher's neck.  The Ambassadors Theatre is part of the Royal Shakespeare Company, and David Suchet, my favorite Poirot, has written a piece in the program.

It's opening night, and there's a buzz in the house.  The stage manager tells me they've double-booked my seat and takes my ticket.  Next to me is a drama critic and his two daughters.  She returns with my ticket and I get to stay.  A simple set of a living room with books, easy chairs, and a carpet.

Kunene is a nurse assigned to care for a famous actor with stage 4 liver cancer.  This actor has been given the role of King Lear, his lifelong dream, and he is trying to stay alive so he can be in the play.  As you might expect, he recites some of the famous speeches as he's rehearsing.  You might also fear, as I did, that Shakespeare's lines would be sprinkled throughout the play to make the point for the playwright, or to provide linguistic humor.  That only happened one time, for the script made use of famous plays but did not depend upon them.

I could write a full review, but I want you to see this play when it comes to the U.S.  And, it will.  Dr John Kani, who wrote and starred in it, has crafted a piece for the class of people who love Shakespeare and will come see a play about race relations.  I hope other people, more likely to need an education that includes multiple perspectives on power and oppression, will see it as well.  Kani's incredible "actor's" voice is capable of singing and speaking in his native Xhosa language as well as belting out Mark Antony's funeral speech in English.  The two actors cover a lot of territory, and the end is surprising and uplifting.  I hope they bring it to San Francisco or Berkeley.