webmaster

Archived Reviews

of

Elections & Erections

<  previous   next  >

REVIEWS OF ELECTIONS & ERECTIONS  IN THE USA  —  APRIL AND MAY 2008

It's out of this world

– Carolyn Clay, The Boston Phoenix, 8 April 2008

"A patriot is someone who protects his country from its government," remarks Pieter-Dirk Uys, briefly returning to the stage after taking his curtain call in the glittering, gray-coiffed guise of his female Afrikaner alter ego, Mrs. Evita Bezuidenhout, the self-proclaimed "most famous white woman in South Africa." If so, the South African satirist is a patriot both resident and visiting, finding time in his latest one-man show, Elections & Erections: A Chronicle of Fear and Fun (at Zero Arrow Theatre through May 4), to take the piss out of both the ANC and the GOP. The American Repertory Theatre inaugurated its Zero Arrow playing space in 2005 with Uys’s first Cambridge appearance, in Foreign AIDS. Now the puckish performer, for decades a thorn in the side of the apartheid government, is back, again proving he can stick it to Thabo Mbeki, whose irresponsiveness to the AIDS pandemic particularly infuriates him, with as merry a passion as he did P.W. Botha. Indeed, Uys credits officialdom past and present as his scriptwriters: "I don’t pay taxes, I pay royalties."

Uys’s new show, he has said, takes its title from two things that were illegal when the now-63-year-old gay white man was growing up in South Africa: democracy and sex. A fan of both, Uys nonetheless makes it clear that it was erotic rather than political passion that turned him into a democrat, recounting the harrowing, sometimes humbling youthful sexual encounters, many across racial lines, that initially filled the young man with the Calvinist upbringing with terror of jail and Hell. Uys admits that as a white man with some connections, he was at less risk than many of his partners. "But if you ask about the fun I have had with illegal new friends in the dark," he says, "I can tell you about fear." It is an uncharacteristically fierce and straightforward moment in a show that often masks its dead-seriousness in drag-queen silliness.

Although her image looms over the Zero Arrow stage and she gets the last spot on the bill, Mrs. Bezuidenhout is not Elections & Erections’ most memorable persona. As Pat Paulsen and Al Franken have done in the US, Uys’s alter ego, however non-existent, is running for the South African presidency in 2009. (And since Mbeki is prevented from a third term and his likely successor, Jacob Zuma, is awaiting trial for corruption, she may have a chance.) The various references to Bezuidenhout’s candidacy include the assertion that good friend Hillary Clinton got the idea from her. But for all her Dame Edna Everage glamor, Tannie Evita is eclipsed by Uys’s turns as, among others, Desmond Tutu and Nelson Mandela (in which impersonations he is broad yet uncanny), Winnie Mandela, Mother Teresa (manning the phone lines in heaven), Bill Clinton (whose smirk he perfectly emulates), and "Jewish-African princess" Mrs. Nowell Fine, who, despite her advanced years and the rigors of her toilette, has found the time and heart to adopt a "black AIDS orphan baby" — for the handling of whom she keeps a pair of rubber gloves on her make-up table, along with the lip liner and mascara.

Not all of Uys’s material translates, though his love of the homeland whose hand he bites comes through loud and clear. So does his anger, among the chief targets of which are AIDS-ignorant Minister of Health Manto Tshabalala-Msimang, whose liver transplant Uys chalks up to drink, and Zimbabwean first lady Grace Mugabe, whose selfishness takes the form of a land-grab variation on "Old McDonald Had a Farm." A master clown, the self-effacing Uys manages to be lovable even when his material is scathing. In his own guise (balding, a bit thick, in black tunic, pants, and eyeliner), the performer urges us to approach the upcoming election in a state of arousal rather apathy. Elections & Erections, too, is worth getting it up for.

top

__________________________

Making theater of the politics of the absurd

– Louise Kennedy, The Boston Globe, 10 April 2008

CAMBRIDGE — When it comes to democracy, the South African satirist Pieter-Dirk Uys is quick to point out, his native country is still only 14 years old."We're just a teenager!" exclaims Uys from the stage of the Zero Arrow Club. "Our voice hasn't broken yet."

Uys himself is 63, so he grew up in a very different South Africa, suffocated - but not silenced - by apartheid. A white man who grew up speaking both English and Afrikaans, he has been crafting sharp-tongued shows about politics and sex (in both languages) for decades. Now, in his country's new adolescence, he's still doing it. But adolescence can be a tricky time - for satirists as well as for the rest of us.

Uys's current show, "Elections and Erections: A Chronicle of Fear and Fun," contains some brilliantly funny moments, some sharp observations of both South African and US politics, and, of course, appearances by some of the performer's most familiar alter egos - notably the outrageously oblivious Evita Bezuidenhout, "the most famous white woman in South Africa," and an equally exaggerated drag version of Archbishop Desmond Tutu. But now that the universally condemned evil of apartheid has given way to the messier and more complex flaws and virtues of an evolving democracy, it's clearly harder for Uys to find a single stunning focus for his barbs.

Sometimes that doesn't much matter. Evita is still a hoot, in her out-Daming Dame Edna sort of way; Uys's portrayal of Mother Teresa, answering phones in heaven, is silly and amusing, and his Hillary Clinton isn't half bad, either. But, as that list might indicate, the show itself doesn't naturally cohere into an organic whole.

Partly that's because much of Uys's best stuff is distinctly South African, and here he's apparently trying to tailor it for an American audience. The effort is understandable, but it doesn't always work. Some of the South African political references are unfamiliar here, and the need to explain them slows down the pace of the storytelling. On the other end of the spectrum, Uys's jokes about US politics sometimes have the slightly stale, almost-on-target quality you'd expect from material that's had to travel back and forth across the Atlantic a couple of times.

Uys's skills as a performer and mimic are remarkable. His sense of timing, his ability to transform himself with the wave of a hand and a fake eyelash or two, and his virtuosic range of accents and tones are always fascinating to watch. His political points, too, are hard to argue with; he's particularly passionate on the subject of AIDS and the appalling response of Thabo Mbeki's government to this crisis, and his ability to pinpoint absurdity makes his critique here especially strong.

Sometimes the best satire is a simple statement of the facts: that South Africa's health minister recommends eating beets to boost immunity instead of taking anti-retroviral drugs, for example, or that presidential candidate Jacob Zuma has said he had unprotected sex with someone who's HIV-positive, but he's not worried because he took a shower afterward. Such idiocy requires little elaboration beyond Uys's expressively raised brow.

When he's not touring, Uys runs a cabaret in a converted train station in the implausibly named South African town of Darling - "Evita se Perron," it's called, in a pun on the Afrikaans word for train station, and it sounds like a treat. The American Repertory Theatre has sensibly provided a similar setting for this show in its Zero Arrow Theatre, once again configured as a nightclub (complete with cash bar) and dubbed the Zero Arrow Club.

Word is that the show is as flexible as the setting, and that Uys, like any sharp comedian, has been polishing and revising it every night to suit the audience. That's a good sign - and it may mean that "Elections and Erections," like the young nation that inspired it, is finding a way to grow up.

top

__________________________

Uys’ blend of politics, drag not always right mix

– Jenna Scherer, The Boston Herald, 8 April 2008

"Elections and Erections," now at the American Repertory Theater’s Zero Arrow Theater, confirmed what I had long feared: I don’t know much about South African politics.

Satirist Pieter-Dirk Uys’ one-man show would be best viewed by a South Africanaudience. But that just means Uys is going to do his darndest, in the U.S. premiere of his show, to make sure we get educated.

"Elections and Erections" is a sometimes hilarious, sometimes lame, often arresting bit of political theater. An impressionist/drag queen extraordinaire, Uys is a living legend in his home country. From the ’70s until apartheid’s end in 1994, Uys and his drag alter ego, Evita Bezuidenhout, have been shining an unflattering floodlight on a wicked regime. Even after Nelson Mandela and the African National Congress took the reins, Uys has continued to criticize. Which leads to "Elections and Erections’ " central moral quandary: to talk politics or just do drag?

Uys starts in familiar territory, dishing out flaccid jokes about and impressions of American politicians. This gives way to probing takes on everyone from corrupt ANC president Jacob Zuma to seemingly untouchable Desmond Tutu.

At times, "Elections and Erections" perfectly laces entertainment and substance; other times, it feels like a one-man guilt trip. In the first half, frightening facts and statistics about health and political crises in South Africa make the show feel like a lecture.

Though the famous Evita does make an appearance, Uys is at his satirical best as a privileged South African Jewish woman who adopts a black orphan out of guilt.

One of the finest moments comes when Uys speaks about how his awakening to his homosexuality also led to his liberation from the racist Afrikaner dogma he grew up with.

Don’t come to "Elections and Erections" expecting political correctness. Uys comes from a country that can’t afford to tiptoe around issues. His show comes from a place of outrage on behalf of his country, and a will to see it change.

top

__________________________

Elections and Erections: A Chronicle of Fear and Fun

– Nancy Grossman, broadwayworld.com, 9 April 2009

The People's Republic of Cambridge rolls out the welcome mat for Pieter-Dirk Uys and his new show Elections and Erections: A Chronicle of Fear and Fun at the A.R.T.'s Zero Arrow Club. Yet even in this liberal, academic bastion the laughs are bracketed by lulls of discomfort as the artist and his alter egos attack the most well known politicians and policies of his native South Africa, neighboring Zimbabwe, and the lame duck administration of President George W. Bush.

Putting aside political correctness, Uys uses his rapier wit to skewer the leaders of the African National Congress who underscore the "mock" in the democracy that replaced the system of Apartheid in 1994, and to illustrate some frightening similarities between our two countries vis-á-vis freedom of speech. He is passionate about his comedy and his politics, employing the former as a "weapon of mass distraction" in the fight against fear. Uys maintains "to laugh at fear can only make that fear less fearful," and he has been bringing his message to the theatre world for four decades.

Uys opens and closes the show in drag and portrays about ten characters (primarily women), changing costumes and applying makeup onstage. His colorful smocks and headdresses invoke the likes of Winnie Mandela, Grace Mugabe, and Desmond Tutu, and even Mother Teresa makes an appearance as a heavenly telephone receptionist. However, his real star turn is as the outlandish, fictional Evita Bezuidenhout, the "most famous white woman in South Africa," who is vying to become the country's first female president. She carries on both sides of a conversation with a ventriloquist's dummy representing the current leader, President Thabo Mbeki (who will not acknowledge publicly that HIV leads to AIDS), which is both chilling and amusing, and takes at least partial credit for the candidacy of Hillary Clinton.

Much of Uys's program is ripped from the pages of current events, including comments about disgraced New York Governor Eliot Spitzer and the recently deceased Charlton Heston. Interspersed with the political sketches, the actor shares some poignant personal anecdotes about life as a gay man during Apartheid. It is these stories that humanize the situation and make the fear and nationalized racism of those years palpable. When he recounts the details of his own life, it is even more affecting than listening to the tales of his other voices.

While it is clear from laughter and polite applause that the audience appreciates what Uys is giving from the stage, it is unclear why they also seem to be discomfited by some of his material. The title Elections and Erections refers to the two things that were illegal when Uys was a young man growing up in Cape Town. He does not shy away from raw language in discussing both the political and the sexual, but it is my sense that the lack of political correctness is much more difficult to hear than any of the prurient accounts. Also, the collective degree of knowledge about the events in South Africa may be sorely lacking so that ignorance of what goes on there puts limits on how funny the references are to an American audience. While the production is in town, the A.R.T. is sponsoring a number of special events with Pieter-Dirk Uys to enhance the theatregoing experience (see the website for a complete listing).

As long as there are governments and politicians, there will be a wealth of material for comedians and satirists to ply their craft. What sets the Elections and Erections cabaret apart from the run-of-the-mill is the combined wit, intelligence, and experience of the plucky Uys. His monologues are crisp, his costumes are vibrant, and he isn't afraid to take a poke at anybody, no matter how powerful, revered, or reviled. Moreover, he's rather likeable himself and makes a connection with the audience. The show may be about Uys's journey and evolution as a white South African, but it reveals plenty about the United States in the midst of our own political turmoil.

top

__________________________

Uys's 'Erections' Pokes Fun at Politics

Playwright Pieter-Dirk Uys deploys weapons of mass destruction

– Mark A. Vanmiddlesworth, The Harvard Crimson, 17 April 2008

There is a famous saying, attributed alternately to Oscar Wilde and George Bernard Shaw, that goes: "If you’re going to tell people the truth, you’d better make them laugh; otherwise they’ll kill you." For South African playwright Pieter-Dirk Uys, this statement is hauntingly literal. His most recent one-man production, "Elections and Erections," currently being performed at the Zero Arrow Theatre, showcases the wry satire and verbal wit that has defined his career. The performance’s unique format, drawing upon drag and cabaret influences, provides a vehicle for the strong political dissent for which many South Africans have been killed.

Uys began writing plays criticizing Apartheid while attending college in Cape Town in the 1960s. As a gay man living under a government that criminalized homosexuality, estranged from the white community and legally prohibited from associating with other ethnic groups, Uys struggled to find a place within the rigid social politics of South Africa.

During this time, Uys found the medium that would define his career: one-man comedies. "Elections and Erections" continues Uys’ tradition of performing as a variety of male and female characters. On stage, he is able to explore the full spectrum of skin colors, genders, and social statuses that make up South African society. Speaking from a wide range of ideological viewpoints gives Uys a multifaceted perspective on South African politics. This hard-hitting political commentary, delivered through plenty of lipstick and glitter, has made his shows a mainstay of South African political activism, from the Apartheid era through the recent troubles with President Thabo Mbeki and the African National Congress (ANC).

Uys’ unique approach has broadened his audience to include even those he mocks. He is popular within the ANC and is frequently invited to perform at their events. However, Uys refuses to be a simple court jester: during a Winnie Mandela impersonation at an ANC event, Uys performed a skit about "necklacing," a violent execution tactic endorsed by Winnie Mandela during Apartheid. Mandela, sitting in the front row surrounded by bodyguards, simply laughed. "You’ve got guts," one of the bodyguards said after the show. Uys responded in characteristic form: "Can I keep the guts?"

"Elections & Erections" is similarly irreverent, lampooning everyone from Archbishop Desmond Tutu to Nigerian president Robert Mugabe. "I want to offend everyone in the audience at least once," says Uys. The comedic excess of his show is disarming, resisting categorization and thereby dispelling the viewer’s potential biases against outspoken activism. Uys mocks public figures across the ideological spectrum, forcing the audience to abandon political allegiances and approach the show from a common standpoint of startled acceptance.

Uys has deftly adapted his act to suit American audiences. In addition to providing the requisite background information on South African politics, he examines American political issues such as church pedophilia and the Democratic primary. He draws startling parallels between American and South African politics, describing the operation of the ANC as "First World corruption."

Though tempered by comedy, Uys paints a bleak, totalizing picture of the corruption, incompetence, and bigotry that permeates national and international politics. This cynicism can easily collapse into pessimistic apathy and hopelessness, but Uys stresses the importance of optimism. He lightens his political satire with stories of ordinary citizens taking an active role in improving their country’s situation. "The people must lead," says Uys, "and the government will follow."

This faith in the actions of individual citizens has been a driving factor in Uys’ work. In the mid-90s, when the severity of the AIDS epidemic became apparent, Uys began visiting schools in South Africa to educate young people about contraceptive use. His performances are entirely free and were a crucial service to schools that lacked funding for such programs.

Uys seeks support from international audiences with performances such as "Elections & Erections" and "International AIDS," which premiered as the inaugural performance at the Zero Arrow Theater. These shows help fund Uys’ AIDS work in Africa. Perhaps more importantly, however, Uys’ comedic performances bring South African politics to the attention of the international community. "The only weapon I have is the weapon of humor. It’s a great weapon of mass destruction. And a politician does not like being laughed at," says Uys. "It’s a great way to bring them down."

top

__________________________

Polls and poles: Uys aims pointy satire

– Katie Greer, The Berkeley Beacon, 17 April 2008

If you took Jon Stewart, put him in the body of Charles Nelson Reilly and added the voice of the Emcee from the musical Cabaret, you'd get something close to South African comedian, activist and occasional drag queen Pieter-Dirk Uys.

Uys has brought with him his repertoire of personalities-ranging from the current South African president Thabo Mbeki to prospective presidential candidate Hillary Clinton. Using all of these personalities, Uys has created his one-man show Elections & Erections, a satirical memoir of both the political turmoil throughout South Africa's history and his personal struggles with apartheid's legacy.

In the American Repertory Theater's newsletter, Uys attributes the theme of his show to two of South Africa's policies during apartheid.

"Elections & Erections refers to the two things that were illegal during my life as a young South African growing up in apartheid Cape Town," the release said.

But Uys is reaching past the skeletons in South Africa's political closet to grasp what he sees as the current wrongs in his country; chiefly among them, the president's continued refusal to recognize the AIDS epidemic in South Africa.

One moment criticizing President Mbeki's all-too quiet diplomacy and then admitting that South Africa is still a baby democracy, Uys captures the delicate balance between recognizing progress and expecting change.

In his opening sketch, in which he is costumed as a Hillary Clinton look-alike, Uys exclaims, "It's all about change!" Using Clinton's campaign strategy as a springboard, Uys launches into the beginning of a show that constantly switches between political stand up and impeccable mimicry.

He takes special care to reference current events in the United States, drawing in the audience with snide comments about Hillary Clinton's "pantsuits in those primary colors" and the fact that the Senator "always seems to know everybody" at her campaign events.

After Senator Clinton (and, for a brief interval, her husband) disappears from the stage, Uys begins a makeshift history lesson-meets-cultural-seminar on South Africa, explaining that while many rights have been extended to its citizens, there are limits.

"In theory we've got freedom of speech, in practice terms and conditions apply. Uys said, "there's lots of freedom but very little speech."

Among his scattered news trivia, however, are the very strong parallels Uys makes between his homeland and the United States. At one point he mentions the strong similarity between the Guantanamo Bay detention camp and Robben Island, a prison for political activists and troublemakers during apartheid. And when referring to the upcoming presidential election in South Africa, he notes that Thabo Mbeki's succession is unclear; "unlike George Bush, he doesn't have a John McCain to do it for him."

Uys perfectly captures the personalities of each character in his entourage, with accents and costumes that transform him from a middle-aged white man into a variety of races and sexes.

But one of the most honest parts of Uys' performance is a story from his own life, of how an erection led him to be a Democrat and see beyond apartheid. After having a relationship with a black South African boy in his youth, Uys understood the very real fear and danger surrounding the majority of his country's policies.

Most of his humor is easily digestible; it is farce without too much of a message and that is the glue that holds Uys' whole performance together. He begins to lose focus, however, when he expands on his feelings on the crisis in Zimbabwe.

In a sketch too chilling to be humorous, Uys sits on the darkened stage as Grace Mugabe, slowly adorning himself with glittering diamond jewelry while singing a very adult version of "Old MacDonald Had A Farm" about colonization.

In his version, Old MacDonald is Grace Mugabe and the farm in question has become the farms taken from citizens of Zimbabwe to line the pockets of its president and his wife.

Uys is best at his most ridiculous moments, the more serious he becomes the more he distracts from the purpose of his play. The work begins to feel like a didactic political rally rather than a piece of performance art.

Playing two characters of his own creation, Noelle Fine — a self-described Jewish-Afrikaan Princess — and the world-renowned Evita Bezuidenhout, (the most famous woman in South Africa, according to herself), Uys truly shines.

Bewigged, bedazzled and high-heeled, especially as Evita, Uys has found his niche in comedy. Evita is a glamorous delight, a fast-talking relic from the apartheid era who Uys has adapted brilliantly and used to her fullest.

Evita and her tongue-in-cheek opinions may be entirely politically incorrect but she remains a comical representation of South Africa's displaced white minority. Like many of her real-life counterparts, Evita is struggling to adapt to the new South Africa -at one point saying, "Isn't democracy a remarkable experience?"

Uys is a wonderful South African import and a talented impersonator. He has a refreshing ability to be both hopeful and hilarious at the same time. Throughout all of his comedy, Uys ultimately believes in a future for his country and for ours, in a time "where both elections and erections will be so ordinary and accepted that there would be no need for a show." In the meantime, his work is an excellent substitute.

top

__________________________

Provocative Cabaret: Apartheid & Today's Politics

– Mark Favermann, berkshirefinearts.com, 13 April 2008

Democracy and sex can be very messy. This is the premise of South African Afrikaner satirist Peter-Dirk Uys. He states, "After having had an apartheid government that killed people, we now have in South Africa a democratic government that just lets them die." He is referring to AIDS and the refusal of South Africa's current president Thabo Mbeki and his regime to tell the truth about the disease. AIDS claims the lives of six hundred South Africans each day. Thabo Mbeki is introduced as a ventriloquist's dummy. Up to the moment political and cultural references are sprinkled throughout the performance.

Early on, the playwright/actor talks about his own youthful biracial homosexual experiences in the 1960's adding a touch of personal understanding and sad reflection. As a Afrikaner college student, he came from the ruling prejudiced class. His sexual forays presented him with the dilemmas of Apartheid in a very taboo way on many levels. This was Pieter-Dirk Uys' own door to understanding.

Clearly Elections & Erections is not a simple cabaret show. In fact the layers of meaning, social and political history and cultural friction are far beyond the general entertainment lite of a cabaret. This is serious stuff filtered through the satirist's eye, ear and personality. There is a very thin line between anger and humor stated here.

Autobiographically, Uys (Pronounced "Ace") states that humor has been his weapon of "mass distraction." He has used humor to confront the fear of Apartheid. He sees politicians as monkeys climbing up poles. Accordingly, the higher they climb the pole of ambition, the more their asses can be seen. So, he felt that when those in charge of Apartheid laws painted themselves into a corner, or climbed up the pole, the laugh was on them. He holds this to be true of the contemporary politicians who have followed them as well.

Mr. Uys sees the politicians as the best comedy writers that can be imagined. He sees their hypocrisy as the lubricant of political intercourse. I wish that I had thought up and said that. Some South African politicians were laughed out of power. Since the government writes his material, he feels that today he doesn't pay taxes, but pays royalties. He is far from prejudiced. All governments provide grist for his humor mill. He spares no one or no place in his provocative performance both in drag and as himself. He suffers fools not lightly but well and often makes us either wince or chuckle while extolling their often tragically human flaws and foibles.

Uys, Evita and his other characters (there are at least seven) have something to say about Bill and Hillary, Barack, George W, Robert Mugabe, 90 year old Nelson Mandela and Winnie ( the mother of the nation) Mandela, the state of the world and ourselves. Evita is a little like Dame Edna (the Australian Drag Queen) on a regime of high octane hormones with a cutting edge political swagger. They seem like long lost Commonwealth cousins to me. But, Evita appears to be much, much more. She often awkwardly says what she does not mean and conversely means what she does not correctly express. There is a certain amount of wistful sadness, even a bit of depression and a personal and perhaps cultural regret in the political diva's characterization. Yet she makes us all smile and sometimes even laugh.

The actor also portrays an elderly "colored" woman who was considered too "black" in the old regime and not black enough in the new regime. Metaphorically she sells antiques and junk to make a living. The debris of civilization keeps her and her family going. Provocatively, she is a Muslim. We cringe a bit from her tales. Mother Teresa is performed as a fill-in telephone exchange operator in Heaven. Humorously, she is replacing Marilyn Monroe who is out on strike with other angels. Truth and beauty are presented in this skit in if not profound ways at least in profane ways. Bishop Desmond Tutu appears in all of his giggling glory. Highly ecumenical, there is another character included in the show who is a middle aged, middle class non-reconstructed a bit prejudiced Jewish South African matron. Clearly, Uys is an equal opportunity satirist.

Other portrayals (like Winnie Mandela at an African National Congress meeting), personal stories and asides create a theatrical occasion of thoughtful involvement for the audience. The majority of the best of the A.R.T. productions always seem to try to push the theatrical and entertainment envelope. The audience experience is not always comfortable, the production is not always clearly discernable, but it is always an experience worthwhile in creatively encountering. Pieter-Dirk Uys is a clever, creative, talented performer who fits into the A.R.T. genre very well. Elections & Erections is a show that makes one laugh and also squirm. What better way to be entertained and intellectually stimulated?

If not a tour de force, this production is a forceful tour of a slice of our recent political and cultural history. Elections & Erections is a performance piece that should not be missed.

top

__________________________

Pieter-Dirk Uys at Zero Arrow Theatre

– Michael Femia, bunkosquad.com, 17 April 2008

I got a chance last night to go see Elections and Erections, a one-man show by Pieter Dirk Uys (as part of the American Repertory's blogger outreach program). I hadn't known a lot about him before I went; the best way I can describe him is as a South African, more political version of Eddie Izzard. In that you have to be pretty smart to keep up with him, he frequently calls back to jokes from earlier in the show, and he does much of his performance in a dress.

Calling what Uys does a "one-man show" isn't exactly accurate, either, since half of his act is performed in costume and in various characters. He even does a puppet show. Some of his characters are inventions (like his Evita Bezuidenhout, a flat-out mockery of Afrikaner upper-middle-class morality), and some are real (Mother Theresa, Bishop Tutu, and Winnie Mandela all show up during the program). All contribute to his relentless skewering of South African society and its awkward transition from its despicable past into its uncertain future.

It certainly would have helped to know more about South African politics than I did, but Uys does a remarkable job breaking it down for ignorant Americans. (Like the piece of work that is the country's Minister of Health, who thinks AIDS can best be fought with a garlic and beetroot diet.)

Uys does a really nice job balancing the funny with the intensely personal. He tells one gripping story of an apartheid-era fling that, if discovered, would have ended with him in big trouble and the other guy probably killed. It's kind of jarring after the funny bits, but it really does illuminate some of the fear and insanity of the time.

The show will be playing at the American Repertory's Zero Arrow Theatre in Harvard Square until May 5th; many of the shows will also involve guest speakers and political discussions about South Africa's past and future. The whole schedule is on the ART's website, and is definitely worth checking out.

top

__________________________

Elections and Erections: A One-Queen Play at the A.R.T.

– Kee Hinckley, marrowbones.com, 16 April 2008

"Don't ask me about racism. As a white racist it didn't affect me. But if you ask me about fear, I can tell you about that."

                                              – Pieter-Dirk Uys, in "Elections and Erections"

That line ends a serious interlude in the show, one of several that provide counterpoint to the satire and humor he so deftly uses to highlight the flaws of South African society, both before and after apartheid. He has just told us how he came to be a democrat, and he has told us of sharing the garden-shed home of a yard-boy at a rich South African home. Of the fear of being discovered. The fear of being black with white, white with black. A fear so powerful that it overwhelms the fear of being man with man. Even now, when I relate the story to my friends, that final line sends a shiver down my spine.

Pieter-Dirk Uys' alter-ego is Evita Bezuidenhout, a household name in South Africa, famous for over thirty years of satire against the apartheid government. But she hasn't stopped there. "Elections and Erections" makes it clear that Uys' true enemy is that which makes people afraid. Whether it's corruption in the apartheid government or in the ANC; politicians denying the existence of AIDS; friendships with dictators based on a common race; ignorance; false pretenses; or just the everyday fears of trying to survive in a country stuck in a downward spiral. Uys wants to expose the things that make us afraid, shine the bright light of humor on them, and bring hope and laughter to the people he loves: the people of South Africa.

If Evita Bezuidenhout has a counter-part in the U.S., it might be Stephen Colbert, with his pseudo-conservative satire. But Evita is much more biting and relevant, and Uys has many more roles to don beyond Evita. He plays the ANC politicians contemplating whether the next president will get the position before, or after, he is thrown in jail for corruption. He lampoons (gently, but none-the-less) Archbishop Desmond Tutu. He describes the trials of a Jewish African Princess, her relatives self-exiled to Canada, trying desperately to be the liberal she knows she ought to be. He takes on Winnie Mandela, including relating the time he played her character (complete with rubber tire jewelry) with the real Winnie in the audience. He talks to the asian storekeeper whose husband used to be too black for jobs, but now is turned down because he is too white. He does a chilling rendition of Grace Mugabe as an evil child-like woman, losing her mind to AIDS. And he doesn't save all his barbs for Africa; his characterization of Mother Theresa, filling in for Marilyn Monroe as God's secretary, is priceless. The angels are on strike, suicide bombers keep showing up in pieces looking for their virgins, and the son of the managing director is refusing to return to Earth. He even does a great Hillary (and Bill!) impersonation.

What makes Uys' work really stand out, particularly as compared to American satirists like Colbert, is its compassion; even his enemies are human. The apartheid-era security chief he lampoons still had a sense of humor. Winnie Mandela may have "necklaced" informants, but she now tours AIDS facilities and pushes AIDS education. This, in a country where the government Health Minister promotes a cure of beet juice, and claims that HIV drugs are poisonous. His barbs are as pointed as they are funny, but he sees the humanity in everyone. In his heart, his true goal is to make his people happy and unafraid. You can see it in his eyes as he relates the story of a little black boy who wanders into his theatre as he is building the stage. From a simple "do you like to sing" and a few shaky songs, you see Uys' pride as he relates how that same child made it all the way to top awards at Trinity College. Uys' South Africa has nothing to do with race, and everything to do with the pride of being a good human being.

South Africa has not been on the forefront of American minds for some time. As Uys says, if Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela hadn't had an easy-to-pronounce first name, Americans may not have been aware of the country's plight at all. In "Elections and Erections," Uys entertains, and more importantly, educates. Throughout the show, he relays tidbits of history and culture which later become the punch lines of his comedy, ensuring the audience understands the satirical context of his work. Yet the pace never suffers. The flow of comedy and pathos, serious and profane, never falters. This is not a show you want to miss. I only wish we could import Pieter-Dirk Uys to provide a similar look at ourselves.

top

__________________________

Pieter-Dirk Uys: South Africa Up-ended, Humor Included  

– Jim Sullivan, jimsullivanink.com, 4 May 2008

Really, folks, this stuff writes itself. It doesn't, of course. It's Uys's mind who takes the horror a apartheid and the subsequent social upheaval after its 1994 dismantling and puts it in a framework that allows us to shake our heads in disgust and smile through it. The show is called "Elections and Erections: A Chronicle of Fear and Fun," and that pretty much sums it up.

It's more to do with politics than sex, but somehow, they seem to mix. Uys talks about when he was a young gay man at a nude beach and, well, one thing led to another ... except one of the other things was that the other kid was black and an even worse kind of hell could explode if that were discovered.

Uys dabbles in US politics at the beginning with a Hillary Clinton bit and at the end, with a tiny jab, at George W. Bush — because doing comedy in "monosyllables is too hard" and "he is your problem, not mine." Uys deals most of the time with the contradictionns and hypocrisy of South Africa. It helps to know some of the people he's discussing - both Winnie and Nelson Mandella, P.W. Botha, Evita Bezuidenhout, but you'll get there even if you don't have recall of the players or the scenarios. (Winnie Mandella was noted for the flaming "tire necklace" put around "criminals.")

He notes how every famous politician — criminal or not — wanted his picture taken with Nelson Mandella — to achieve goodness by flinting association. He rails at how when apartheid crumbled, its leaders didn't have the same decency as Hitler and most of his Nazi cohorts did in committing suicide. The ANC, the governing body that took over, Uys views with a critical eye. "Hypocrisy is the vaseline of political intercourse," he notes.

Uys has a brilliant look at the afterlife, with various notables hanging around the pearly gates, impatiently waiting to get in. The politicians are stunned to find out they "don't have God on their side." And there's Moses! What's he doing outside? Oh,no, it's Charlton Heston. The Muslim suicide bombers? Sure, they're inside waiting for their 17 virgins - except they're inside in "tiny little pieces." Uys's ultimate message: Enjoy the life you have - or try to - and don't bank on "something that might not be there."

There's much more. Uys goes through a bunch of costume and personality changes, and creates characters that are not entirely loathesome. You understand why some of them do what they do. But Uys wants us to take a critical look at South Africa — its' history, its present state — and implicitly apply it to our own country.

top

__________________________

Elections & Erections

– Martin Denton, nytheatre.com, 5 May 2008

The writer/performer of Elections & Erections is South African actor/activist Pieter-Dirk Uys (that last name is pronounced "Ace"). He was last in NYC (also at La MaMa) back in 2004, which is where I discovered him. He's a huge star in South Africa but not so well known here in America; his is a mammoth talent, and he has a heart to match. He genuinely cares about the subjects he talks about: principally, the devastation that AIDS is wreaking on his homeland and on the rest of Africa, and the myriad social/political/economic tribulations of South Africa and, too, of America and the world. Uys is a humanist performer who uses satire to teach us what we either should know but don't, or do know but forgot.

The content of the show is often devastatingly and/or outrageously funny. He portrays a variety of characters in the course of the evening, including some real people he actually knows (Bishop Desmond Tutu, whom he reveres even as he gently pokes fun at him; both Nelson and Winnie Mandela) and made-up characters who have become iconic, including his most famous creation, Evita Bezuidenhout, an outspoken white South African woman who was once the poster girl for Apartheid but is now throwing herself wholeheartedly into the cause of Reconciliation. (She's also running for President of South Africa in 2009; Uys tells us that just because she's not real doesn't mean she doesn't exist.)

He also talks about himself, as an artist whose work often threatens to bite the hand of a government that, at least in the days of Mandela's rule, feted if not fed him; and about what it meant to be a gay white man attracted to black men in South Africa in the 1960s, when both gay sex and interracial sex were illegal. His tale of a furtive one-night stand with a gardener in his shed is remarkably affecting.

But important as what Uys has to say always is, for me it is his consummate skill as a theatre artist that proves most impressive about Elections & Erections (I felt this way about his last show, Foreign Aids, as well). Uys is a drag artist who dons and removes his drag in front of us, stripping away the artifice very publicly to remind us of the core truths underneath each performance. It's mesmerizing to watch him transform himself from a decidedly unglamorous middle-aged man in black shirt and pants to a dazzlingly glamorous middle-aged woman, merely with the addition of some makeup, a wig, shoes, and a few accessories. It's not just that he looks different — he really seems to become someone else. Even a very broad caricature of Mother Theresa in heaven is realized as a fully fleshed-out (albeit deceased) woman who is nothing like anybody else she shares the stage with in this one-man show.

The paradox of this ordinary-looking man switching into a host of extraordinary larger-than-life characters parallels the effect of Uys's show on an audience, which is to make us laugh uproariously one moment and then come up short in the very next moment as we grasp the enormous ease with which humans can be corrupted, can be unjust.

For its artistry and its significance — not to mention the worthy cause benefiting from the proceeds of this particular engagement — Elections & Erections deserves your attention. I only wish Uys were keeping it here in New York for a longer time.

<  previous   next  >

top