Kunene and the King, Klein Theatre, Shakespeare Theatre Company, Washington, DC

Below: Edward Gero and John Kani in Kunene and the King at the Shakespeare Theatre Company. Photo credit: Teresa Castracane Photography.

Conflict is essential to drama. Opposites clashing, particularly if both are strong, is a more interesting basis for drama than two clashing with an extreme imbalance of power: a tennis match between the number 1 seed and number 4 is likely to be more dynamic, more intriguing, more exciting than one between the #1 ranked player and #212. Most sports matches result in a win for one and loss for the other; a few allow ties. A well-fought match with a close score is always more fascinating than a blow-out.  In Kunene and the King, playwright/actor John Kani gives us two fascinating characters, a couple even odder than the title pair in The Odd Couple. They are total opposites brought together by circumstances in South Africa in 2019 (when the play was initially produced by the Royal Shakespeare Company), just 25 years since Nelson Mandela was elected president in the country’s first multi-racial election, which marked the beginning of the end of the apartheid era. The history and conflicts of that era are deeply imbedded in these two characters: that South African past is part of their DNA. In this country, we often seem to be unaware of or have suppressed our own history of racial issues (and many leaders today would like us to just skip over them), so that for us, coming to a true understanding of the much more ingrained and current history of racial issues in South Africa is a real stretch. We may never be able to fully understand South Africa, despite helpful timelines included in the program, along with a fascinating essay by Kani. White non-South African audiences may never be able to fully understand the effects of the pervasive, government-approved discrimination and persecution. But this theatre piece gives us insight that allows us to begin to fathom that history.

John Kani in Kunene and the King. Photo credit: Teresa Castracane Photography.

Jack Morris is an alcoholic White actor of considerable stature who is truly living a “best of times, worst of times” moment. He has checked himself out of the hospital (where he was being treated for stage 4 liver cancer) against doctors’ wishes just as he has been offered a golden professional opportunity, playing Shakespeare’s King Lear, one of the most challenging roles in dramatic literature. He lives well in the affluent Johannesburg suburb of Kilarney. Although his home is tasteful and upscale, it is also a cluttered mess since the maid is no longer working.

Lunga Kunene (the program notes that Lunga translates from Xhosa, one of the major languages of South Africa, as Kindness and Kunene as Truth) is a just-past-middle-age Black male nurse who comes to Morris’s home to provide in-home care on a 24-hour basis. (An Internet search indicates that Kani is 82 years old, but I believed he was at least 20 years younger. I should have known better: after all, 50 years ago, he shared the 1975 Tony as Best Actor in a Play for both Sizwe Banzi is Dead and The Island with Winston Ntshona, plays the two actors developed in partnership with the White South African playwright Athol Fugard.) Kunene is the antithesis of the kind of character Morris was expecting as a caregiver sent by an agency (a young, White, buxom female).

There is immediate conflict in Scene 1: Morris does not want Kunene in his house. When Morris finally understands that this is a necessary step, he offers Kunene the maid’s room detached from the house as quarters for his lodging. He also expects Kunene to pick up after him, but Kunene is firm, he insists on staying in the house and he is there as a professional nurse, not as household help. Morris laments the end of apartheid (25 years earlier) and remarks at one point that he was surprised that the first multi-racial elections did not result in a status in which Whites would still control things. Each has his own idiosyncracies that bother the other. Theatrical Morris calls other people “darling,” which he thinks s endearing; Kunene notes that nurses with his background are called “Sister,” no matter their gender, for historical reasons.

In scene 2, three weeks later, Kunene can make Morris take his medicine, but is unable to keep him from continuing to drink (he seems to have hidden bottles everywhere). When Morris is humiliated by side effects from his disease and/or treatment, he demeans Kunene by tossing his soiled clothes at the nurse.

Scene 3 takes place four weeks later. Kunene is in his home in the Soweto neighborhood of Orlando, quite modest (especially compared to Morris’s) but nicely appointed and well-kept. He is surprised by a driver who delivers an uninvited, inebriated and/or highly medicated Morris to his front door. It has not been easy for Morris to get from his neighborhood to Kunene’s. He was unexpectedly aided by some kindly Black South Africans on a bus who prevent his mistreatment. Morris is touched, and startled, by the kindness of the Blacks. Kunene explains this phenomenon. And, given the circumstances of the apartheid regimes from 1948 till 1994, any outsider might also question how these previously-oppressed Blacks could feel kindness toward their White former oppressors.

John Kani and Edward Gero in one of the lighter moments in Kunene and the King. Photo credit: Teresa Castracane Photography

This synopsis fails to convey that, despite the seriousness of the subject matter, there is a great deal of humor in the contrasts between Morris and Kunene in their “odd couple” moments. A highlight is when the two actors recite the famous “Friends, Romans, countrymen” speech from Julius Caesar. Morris presents it in English, Kunene in Xhosa. (Kani’s essay in the program shares that his first encounter with Shakespeare was reading the play in a Xhosa translation.) Kunene proclaims the Xhosa version as more passionate than the English.

In the lobby after the play’s opening night performance, another theatre-goer (unknown to me) asked me what I thought about the play. I told her that I thought it was very moving and she asked why. My off-the-cuff answer was “because of its humanity,” and I think I’ll stick with that. Kani the playwright gives us well-developed characters who engage in significant conflict that causes each to understand more about the other. It also provides us with the opportunity, and a reason, to consider the differences between us in ways we may not have previously considered.

As caregiver Kunene, Kani the actor conveys the essences of humanity, dedication, and dignity with apparent effortlessness. He has a worthy stage partner in Edward Gero, one of the giants of DC theatre, most recently (I think) seen in Shakespeare Theatre Company’s epic The Lehman Trilogy. Gero’s Jack Morris is mercurial, ranging from the heights of embodying King Lear as he rehearses for that performance to the depths of pain and suffering from his cancer and/or its treatment. We see a spark in his performance of the King Lear and Julius Caesar excerpts, a glimpse of the once-great performer, but there is sympathy and pain for his deterioration before our eyes, especially as we know that he may not live long enough to perform as Lear. Kani and Gero each appear to be at the apex of their powers as performers. Seeing these two “go at it” on the stage is to experience a spine-tingling moment when lightning has been caught in a bottle.

South African entertainer Ntebo also appears as Isithunywa, which the program tells us means “guiding spirit.” She does not interact with the other performers, but provides song and movement before the first scene and between additional scenes to “embody the heart and soul of Africa through music.” Her appearances reinforced that this is a South African story, to be understood in a specific cultural context.

Ruben Santiago-Hudson, who directed Arena Stage’s production of The Other Americans earlier this season, oversees the proceedings, ensuring that we get even-handed versions of the two characters. Of course, we are supposed to empathize with Kunene, but, under Santiago-Hudson’s direction, Edward is not wholly reprehensible: particularly as he becomes more vulnerable, he earns some sympathy.

The two highly-detailed sets designed by Lawrence E Moten III as the homes of the two help us define the characters and the differences between their lives and circumstances. Karen Perry’s costume designs also aid us in defining the characters. Lighting designer Rui Rita and sound designer DJ Potts contribute expert work.

I hope that Kunene and the King has a life beyond this production (and the original Royal Shakespeare Theatre Company in 2019 that later transferred to Cape Town, South Africa), in college, community, and regional theatre. In a time when many oppose learning about not-so-pleasant periods of our past, the play is especially timely. The DC run certainly deserves a large audience for the STC production of this important play. The run was originally scheduled to end on March 16, but it has already been extended through March 23.

Edward Gero in Kunene and the King. Photo credit: Teresa Castracane Photographyl.