CHOMI. Directed by Motlatji Ditodi, with Thabang Sidloyi, Sipho Mahlatshana, Anele Situlweni, Yanga Mkonto, Robert Haxton and Mandisi Sindo. At the Artscape Arena, Wednesday at 7.30pm and Friday at 6pm and 8.15pm. STEYN DU TOIT reviews.
A trio of gaudy, orange-coloured suits are fitted at the start of Pfarelo Nemakonde’s Chomi.
Sipping wine, posing for flamboyant selfies and fretting over whether or not their bubble butts will still be visible through the outfits, we learn that the suits will be worn by “bridesmaids” at a gay wedding vow renewal ceremony three months from now. Crawling between their legs with a measuring tape is the bridegroom-to-be, whose slick metropolitan apartment’s window can be seen overlooking Johannesburg’s skyline.
Directed by Motlatji Ditodi and developed through Artscape’s New Writing Programme, the production follows this group of friends activities over the coming weeks.
Played out in a style similar to an R-rated television soap opera, we are introduced to their lives, relationships and heartbreaks while they make their way through the City of Gold as modern, black homosexual twenty-somethings.
A camp, entertaining play about friendship and being true to oneself despite what society thinks of your lifestyle, theatregoers leave the show understanding the motivations of these men as if they are people we've known personally for years.
At the centre of the marital excitement is Percy (Sidloyi) who, after living with his soul mate, Mandla (Sindo), for four years, is looking forward to celebrating the joy they've found in each other. Also in a happy relationship, albeit one fast at risk of being unconsciously self-sabotaged thanks to his innate insecurities and fears of not being deserving enough of being loved by chef Adam (Haxton), is visual artist Rudzani (Situlweni).
Then there’s psychologist Sicelo (Mkonto), a loving man who, despite all his professional insight into the human condition, still can't figure out why he continues to love his unfaithful, fabulist boyfriend.
The only member of the foursome resolved not to get tangled up in the emotional complications associated with being in a relationship is accountant Thabang (Mahlatshana).
Apart from wearing some of the play’s most outrageous outfits – including denim hotpants, fishnet tank tops, purple suede shoes and kinky lab coats – he’s also largely responsible for Chomi carrying an age restriction of 18.
Alongside frequent, no holds barred depictions of his sexual escapades, a powerful scene early on sees Thabang engaging with the audience directly via a monologue of what turns him on sexually. Forthright and defiant, he looks us straight in the eye and dares us to judge him for the kind of talk otherwise lauded around a braai or at the pub by his heterosexual counterparts.
Whether fellow audience members were inadvertently revealing their own prejudice, or simply expressing shock at hearing such an often-taboo aspect of our society so unsparingly addressed I don't know, but this scene during opening night elicited quite a few grunts, groans and gasps from the auditorium.
Seen against Alfred Rietmann's urban set design, the rest of the plot sees the friends' relationship run the full gamut. Performed with vivacity by all six of its committed cast members, this includes going clubbing together, throwing shade (gossiping) about their respective boyfriends and sharing intimate details of their various adventures
But when tragedy suddenly strikes halfway through the show, there is no doubt in our minds that these four ‘chommies’ will be there for each other again by the end of it.
While the production, despite its often serious themes and subject matter, ultimately struggles to transcend the boundaries of a telenovela, coupled with the fact that the script and presentation could be more subtle – Chomi is an important play because it provides us with a glimpse into a world rarely seen locally (or anywhere) on stage. Its depiction of its gay, black characters’ lives is frank, unapologetic and necessary viewing.
Translating it into Zulu, Xhosa or even presenting it in vernacular form could only help widen its audience appeal and take its emphatic message, of it being okay to be (openly) gay and happy, to where it will ultimately be heard loudest.
Provocative, sassy, heartfelt and utterly fabulous, enjoying a glass of wine and a bit of kiki (gay slang loosely defined as gossiping or chit-chat) with this foursome at one of only three performances this week is bound to be a colourful affair.
l Tickets: R90, 0861 915 8000, www.computicket.com