The actors were best. Todd Davis impersonated Nelson Mandela as a disenfranchised prince quite well, displaying iconic, regal bearing and charm. He aged convincingly, and dragged with dignity the feet of clay given him by the author.
Marjorie Johnson conveyed the energy, intelligence, and zeal of Mandela's complicated wife, and it was her play. Sometimes a mere cheerleader to her husband's struggle, in the end Winnie makes unacceptable political demands on him (such as to disenfranchise people over 18). When history finally explodes in her face, Ms. Johnson pulled out "the shrapnel" from Winnie's shoulders gracefully and touchingly.
Dominic Marcus played Kaiser, Mandela's nephew and suitor for Winnie's affections, who sells his soul "for a glass of champagne," and justifies betrayal by arguing economics.
The director kept the actors moving or fiddling to keep busy. Ms. Johnson needed help to inject more drama into her too-frequent recitations of the poetry of dead, white, European males. But she changed costumes often, from township grays to brocade dashikis. None of them would satisfy the real Mrs. Mandela.
Randy Frazier created a nice sound design of tinkling bells, rioting crowds, and contemporary African recordings. And a magnificent, stylized floor painted with family and celestial motifs grounded the action as the set's only artistic contribution. The play needed more of its muted African spirit.
David Sheppard's lighting sometimes took us on interesting journeys by defining small areas. But there were too few instruments for the space, and all of them seemed aimed from overhead, creating inartistic shadows. The use of strobe was unskilled.
The play grabbed attention when the author let the Mandelas confront more recent issues that separated them, particularly the male-female conflict. But mainly what we got was name-calling ("You're the biggest pig at the slop table." "Whore!"), which did audibly impress the audience. These exchanges ended in Mandela's odd eulogy: "The spirit of the revolution was you."
The play is a stone's throw from greatness. The subject is strong; but the author needs more African poetry, heroism, conflict, humor, and humanity to get the epic. The task would be daunting even for Brecht.
Three characters do not an epic make. We wait expectantly for the poet of Mandela's revolution.
Copyright 1999 Marshall Yaeger