Archived Reviews of Adapt or Fly
REVIEW OF ADAPT OR DYE IN JOHANNESBURG — JULY 2011
On the Stage
Seeing a 30-year revival of Adapt or Dye at the Market Theatre on Friday night not only rekindled memories from the bad old 1980s, it was also a reminder of what a master satirist and shrewd political commentator Pieter-Dirk Uys was, and still is
– Christina Kennedy, Business Day, 2 August 2011
SEEING a 30-year revival of Adapt or Dye at the Market Theatre on Friday night not only rekindled memories from the bad old 1980s, it was also a reminder of what a master satirist and shrewd political commentator Pieter-Dirk Uys was, and still is.
I remember seeing many of his revues on video as a teenager. No doubt they were either censored or heavily age-restricted, and much of the humour probably flew way above my home-permed head, but the wagging finger of PW Botha, the ridiculous ears and bulbous nose of Piet Koornhof, the coiffed Boere- elegance of Evita Bezuidenhout and the kugelicious faux-liberalness of Nowell Fine definitely made an impression. Last week, Uys dusted off those characters and others for a one-off performance as part of Wits University’s Apartheid Archive Conference and Drama for Life programme, of which he is a patron.
It was a homecoming of sorts; Uys first performed Adapt or Dye at the Market 30 years ago.
And it was the piece that would launch his career as a one-man tour de farce, relying on the apartheid goons to write his scripts and inadvertently become, as he puts it, his bread and Botha.
As he explains in his book, Between the Devil and the Deep: A Memoir of Acting and Reacting (Zebra Press), Uys recalls: “The show was a collection of sketches reflecting the political icebergs floating in the tranquil sea of mundane news. By now the woman I had created in (my) Sunday Express column, already called Evita of Pretoria, was well known enough to open the show.
“Apart from the fun of doing drag, that kind of extreme acting, a man playing a woman, had its drawbacks. It was seen as homosexual and probably against the law. But while a man in a dress pretending to be a woman resulted in some gay friends ending up in jail on their way to a Friday night party, my excursion into the world of high heels and handbags went from tentative to successful.”
Who could have predicted that the simple concept of a man on stage surrounded by cardboard boxes containing oddments of props, costumes and make-up, transforming into various characters in front of the audience, would become a local and global sensation — and that politicians such as Koornhof would come to the show and laugh his head off?
Almost unbelievably, considering it was so rooted in 1980s National Party politics, the show is as fresh and funny and sharp and clever as ever. Friday night’s audience, including several people who weren’t even born in 1981, were in stitches throughout.
This is because the new-millennium incarnation of Adapt or Dye has — ironically , given its title, and its origin in PW’s infamous “Adapt or die!” quote — been adapted by Uys to include entertaining explanations of context and draw parallels with the current sociopolitical landscape. For instance, he recalls inserting a sketch sending up censorship on the night he knew the government chief censor would be in the audience.
The uncanny thing is, and this is what makes his satire timeless, that the more things change, the more they stay the same. The characters may have changed, but the greed, pigheadedness, lies, hypocrisy and blinkered selfishness that persist today in the corridors of power mean this vintage theatre work holds a spooky sense of deja vu.
As Uys points out (quoting Carol Burnett), comedy is tragedy plus time. His humour was astute back then, provoking laughter often tinged with discomfort because the subject matter was very close and very real. Now, it’s even clearer how ridiculous that system was and we can laugh with the relief and distance of hindsight.
But, as Uys and fellow satirists such as Mike van Graan are aware, living in a free country doesn’t mean we should stop being vigilant about our political elites, even if they don’t sport made-for-satire bak ore and a government-issue snor.
That’s why it’s comforting that Uys continues speaking truth to power, in a manner that is crisp and cuts to the funny bone. Word is that he was testing the water with Friday’s performance, and is hoping to stage a full revival of Adapt or Dye next year, reworked to reflect contemporary issues. Go for it, PDU!
• To celebrate Women’s Day, Uys can be seen as himself, Evita and others at Gold Reef City’s Lyric Theatre in Desperate First Ladies this weekend, chatting to prominent women in SA, such as the Democratic Alliance’s Lindiwe Mazibuko.