“An unyielding reckoning with the crimes of colonialism”
As the show begins with benign birdsong, the houselights are still up. Audience members are seated on chairs along three sides of the stage at Brighton Dome, while the rest of us sit at a more comfortable distance in the auditorium. For what feels like several minutes, we, the two camps of audience members, are left wondering what is about to happen while the only thing we have to observe is each other and a desolate, sandy landscape.
This is a moment of brief respite before an unyielding reckoning with the history of the United States of America, written and directed by Tue Biering, kicks off. With incredible physical stamina, singing voices that could move mountains, and bucketloads of playful energy, seven South African actors transport us to a time where “people lived by the law of the gun”. Through a genre that can only be described as Brechtian Western, the cast asks us, via a live camera feed, to imagine (if we can) “a time where white lives didn’t matter”. The six Black actors in the company then proceed by powdering themselves white and putting on blond wigs – a brilliantly grotesque subversion of the infamous “blackface”.
We start off in a Europe plagued by poverty and follow those brave enough to venture on the perilous journey across the Atlantic, where the few survivors are finally greeted with a “Welcome to America” and an extra poof of white powder on their faces. Using a sprinkle of familiar Americanisms – a game of American football accompanied by a cheery cheerleader and commentator, an auctioneer mumbling numbers in a thick American accent, and of course the ever-present brand of The Coca-Cola Company – the show tackles everything from the slaughter of Native Americans to slavery, brothels, and religious oppression with a brilliant mixture of humour and brutality. Toxic masculinity hangs in the air as the show resonates far beyond forgotten times and touches down much closer to home. A monologue from the one white actor on suicidal ideation brings incel culture to mind, and a Native American chief put behind tall fences echoes images from current refugee detention centres in the UK and beyond.
I can’t think of a more apt cast to confront colonialism than a South African company. It’s hard to single out any one performer, as this is through and through a company effort. Suffice to say that each of the seven actors – Mandla Gaduka, Kaygee Letsholonyana, Lillian Malulyck, Bongani Bennedict, Masango Siyambonga, Alfred Mdubeki, Joe Young, and Thulani Zwane – are forces of nature who stun us with their impressive range.
“Dark Noon” is the reckoning of all reckonings with the violence and crimes of white colonialism; it leaves no stone unturned, and we are not sitting comfortably. However, this show is not about blame. Through moments of audience participation, it allows us, regardless of skin colour, to identify with the oppressed. The result feels like a much-needed collective exorcism of a history that hurts us all.
The show covers a lot and is, at times, a bit sprawling. Occasionally, the noise becomes so overwhelming that it’s hard to keep up, and I miss some bits in the second half that I was really keen to understand more fully. Perhaps it’s the sort of show one simply has to see more than once. Perhaps we’re not meant to grasp the brutality of colonialism in 1 hour and 40 minutes. Regardless, this is the bravest show I have ever seen, and I can’t think of a more poignant piece to programme in these dark times.
This show ran at Brighton Fringe.