Review: PLEASE, DON'T CALL ME MOFFIE at Artscape Arena
Learning to be kinder to those struggling to find their place in the world
A WhatsApp group is usually a place for levity and chit-chat, but in PLEASE, DON'T CALL ME MOFFIE, Zubayr Charles uses one to trigger something much more grave. As the title suggests, the discussion is about homophobia and also an appeal for kindness and understanding towards those who are different. When a video of a gay couple executed in an unnamed Arab country lands in the shared group of five Cape Town Coloured gay men, it fires five deeply personal responses.
The five men Charles has written are readily identifiable archetypes: the “Tragic Gay”, the “Straight Man” (not the sexual orientation but the character), the “Sassy Gay”, the “Muscle Gay”, the “Repressed Gay”. But these stereotypes are a deliberate shorthand, a quick way to let the audience in. Prompted by the video, each man tells his personal and social coming out story, and together they map the remarkably wide terrain of how those who society sees as living outside the mainstream are marginalised, demonised, or simply sidelined.
This is Charles's third play, and his growth since The Battered Housewives’ Club is palpable. He does not shy away from harsh reality, but tells the blunt truth in a warm and often very funny way, the hallmark of a playwright in touch with both his subject matter and his audience.
The entire show rests on Anzio September, who plays all five characters. He is a compelling presence, a sympathetic performer and a remarkably good-looking man. His characterisations are fully fleshed out, markedly distinct from one another, and played with complete truthfulness and consistency throughout.
The transitions between characters require costume changes, and these ran slightly long. But the costumes were an integral part of the audience recognition of the characters and, after the initial awkwardness of the first change, the changes worked to intrigue and tease the audience about what was coming. The music helped considerably with the pacing, and September’s physicalisation as he dressed also did much of the work of scene-setting. A radio suddenly tuning into “It’s Britney, bitch” while September minces into Zayn’s booty shorts tells a much more vivid story than any narration could.
The lighting design was at times overly focused, narrowing the beam to the point where detail was lost on the performer’s face and body. Generally, however, it worked well: the space was clearly delineated and the emotional register of each scene was reinforced rather than overwhelmed. The flashback sequences were particularly well served, like the pulsing red light during a beating which made the description of the attack that much more visceral.
The specific context of PLEASE, DON'T CALL ME MOFFIE is unambiguously Cape Town, Coloured and queer, and at the same time unambiguously universal. The particular nature of these men’s struggles may or may not mirror your own experience, but their search for dignity and belonging is one that anyone who has ever felt ‘other’ will certainly recognise. This is a story that you need to see.
PLEASE, DON'T CALL ME MOFFIE is at the Artscape Arena until 6 June. Tickets from R150 via Webtickets.
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