KINNES. Written by Chase Rhys. Directed by Hennie van Greunen. With Lee-Ann van Rooi, Dustin Beck, Lindsey Abrahams and Shannon Williams and Dean John Smith. Artscape.
KAT MANNE reviews
Debut
Last year, a young a writer and performance artist named Chase Rhys (pictured below) won the Adam and Rosalie Small award for debut writers and his submission, Kinnes has come to fruition at The Artscape Theatre.
The play tells the stories of five characters living on the Cape Flats. For those from the community, seeing the personas of our aunts and mothers, our friends and brothers represented on stage was a blessing. A mother, Mary, cussing at the neighbours gossiping about her son being a gangster is played by Lee-Ann van Rooi. The gangster in question, Anwaar, (Dustin Beck) takes an interest in film and starts shooting his muggings with his gang, the Butcher Boys. The flamboyant Rolanda played by Shannon Williams expresses an interest in becoming a ‘Cape Kardashian’ and Nicole, a demure matriculant (Lindsey Abrahams) tutors Derrick (Dean Smith), a young poet who has fallen in love with her.
Where Are The Fathers?
As their tales unravel, there is a light-hearted atmosphere maintained by the humour and relatable situations of each character. Mary expressing her woes with the distinct wit and resolve of a Cape Flats auntie, Anwaar exclaiming about his passion for film, Rolanda strutting and taking over the stage in a night gown and a commanding presence, Derrick seducing Nicole with corny poetry and Nicole’s mother describing her daughter’s conversations with her stuffed bunny rabbit as demonic. At the same time, there are many elements anchoring the dark subject matter, entering the dialogue with a nonchalance that is both disturbing and close to home. The entire cast shares the same line, stating that they know what it’s like to live without a father. The casual conversation picks up with less than a beat for us to recover but as the play progresses, these pauses increase in length, forcing us to imagine the frustration, confusion and anger of each character stuck in an impossible situation. In this, they find synchronicity. The issue is bigger than all of them but it involves all of them and none of the characters know how to deal with it – at least, not until Nicole decides to help young women in the community. Balancing these elements can be precarious but it reminds us of the humour often used on the Flats to alleviate the pain and frustration of losing loved ones and struggling to work, eat and live.
Turmoil
The back of the stage is adorned with images of kids from the Flats. Our attention is only brought to it when Derrick reflects on the state of the Flats and looks forlornly at the images of the children lost to gang violence. With his stillness and despair, we are brought back to our own reality. He repeated a line throughout the play with a consistency that brought some laughter until the context was given after a drive-by hit, making the words linger as it did throughout the first two acts. It is a simple yet effective technique that Rhys timed exceptionally well. Derrick’s mistake becomes his obsession. This focus on a past event is something that occurs quite often in the community and it tears families apart. His loss foreshadows a denouement that he may not recover from and we are shown how one parent heals herself by uplifting others where the other seems stuck and becomes fixated on vengeance.
“I was trying to protect her from the sun.”
The pace of the play picks up gradually with shorter monologues and frequent interruptions by the other characters. It almost brings a sense of panic to the audience. We know that something bad is going to happen and even though, initially, some of these characters are struggling with everyday issues, it is tainted with dread. This is a chillingly accurate portrayal of the effects of PTSD on the daily life of a victim. The audience is on the edge of their seats anticipating an incident that may or may not happen, but the difference is that with PTSD it encompasses you with a certainty that is immovable. We begin to see the effects showing in Derrick after the incident and yet, his memory of the day is augured from the beginning, almost as if his sorrow and regret defies time itself, overshadowing his sweetest memories and erasing anything that defined him before that day.
“Pasop vir die hond!”
It is a painful moment when the hit is narrated to us. It is Nicole, the young mother who tells us what happened; mirroring the parents we’ve seen on the news or spoken to in person. The difference is that we are offered a look into the repercussions for the perpetrator, Anwaar, who was a using a gun for the first time. His friends abandon him and the Butcher Boys disbands. Mary finds him in a heap of sobbing regret. Her coy façade drops for the first time as she weeps with him. We’re left with an emptiness nobody knows how to fill until Rolanda is centre stage once again. She is waiting for none other than Nicole who assists young pregnant women with their first visit to the clinic. The humour returns, life starts up again until the father calls her for the first time since the pregnancy and she takes a long moment before showing loyalty to her new friend – who was a bit stervy in high school but after the whole thing with her child, turned out to be quite nice.
The strength of a woman
It is important to note that the female characters are crucial to the healing and transformation in this play. The absent fathers are idolised, receiving lengthy descriptions of memories of them dancing to records or fighting off bad guys but the women are only measured by their odd and humorous attributes. Nicole is a stellar student and a pleasant person but is criticised for being stuck up. She is only relieved of this stigma when she accepted a romantic proposal and became a saint in her hood by helping other young women. Not only does Anwaar engage in reckless activity, he does not offer reparations, it is his mother who helps him escape and supplicates Nicole on his behalf. Derrick struggles to get a job but Nicole – who just birthed a child, not to mention that she seems to have a debilitating anxiety disorder – starts her first job and rejects anything Derrick has made from selling drugs. Nicole scatters her daughter’s ashes alone, struggles with suicide alone and starts working in the community on her own. Although, I believe that Rhys wants us to see a perspective from each character and sympathise with all of them and it becomes clear that a system of power is still in place, destroying people living on the Flats, it is also becomes apparent who is picking up the pieces, who is doing the emotional labour and social labour dealing with the
Toxic masculinity
What about Anwaar? Why are we sympathising with him at all? There’s no excuse for murder but the Anwaars and the Uncle Mickeys of this world need to be investigated. Although we are not told much about the old gangster who hires Derrick and subsequently leads him to danger, we can tell that the younger members are charmed and impressed by him. Charmed by the man who ordered a death by panga. The manner with which toxic and abusive people are revered and respected is something we can control. We can change our perspective and a different perspective can change everything. Anwaar’s story shows us that gangsters are not gods, sometimes they are merely men making mistakes and appeasing their guilt by rejecting morality because they truly believe that is the only option for them.
I was truly astounded by this play. It was equally hilarious and jarring. The topic is something that has been addressed decades ago and yet it is still relevant. Rhys brings us a detailed portrayal of the repercussions of gang violence that, a narrative that is both refreshing and moving, inspiring hope for the future and somehow, leaving us feeling lighter as we exited the theatre.
What: Kinnes
Where and when: Artscape from 10 to 19 April 2018
Book: Computicket
WS
