‘Kunene and the King’
Through March 23
Shakespeare Theatre Company’s Klein Theatre
450 7th St., N.W.
Tickets start at $35
shakespearetheatrecompany.org

Yes, it’s an apartment redolent with nostalgia and gin, but beyond the clutter and disorder, there’s evidence supporting the existence of a celebrated career that hasn’t entirely ended.

Set in contemporary South Africa, famed artist/activist John Kani’s two-hander “Kunene and the King” (now making its U.S. premiere at Shakespeare Theatre Company), has a lot to say in a little over 90 minutes.

The play’s characters are vestiges of their country’s past, and in 2019, 25 years after the end of apartheid, they express reaction to change in markedly different ways. 

Jack Morris is an esteemed white Shakespearean actor (played by STC stalwart Edward Gero) who’s focus is drink and work. After being offered and accepting the title role in “King Lear,” a longtime goal, he is diagnosed with terminal liver cancer. 

Undeterred, the irritable actor quits the hospital for home (a flat in an affluent Johannesburg suburb) where he can learn Lear and imbibe undisturbed. Increasingly unwell, he’s compelled to employ Lunga Kunene, a black South African nurse (Kani) to provide live-in care. 

From the start, it’s clear this isn’t going to be an easy relationship. Jack suggests Lunga sleep outside of the apartment in the cleaners’ quarters, and casually shoots off offensive terms like “you people” and “helper” rather than nurse, a title that’s a point of pride for Lunga. 

Kani’s dramedy unfolds a little clunkily before hitting a smooth stride. And while the men possess very different temperaments, they make disparate yet well-matched adversaries and occasional friends.  

Costume designer Karen Perry has thoughtfully outfitted both men for the ride. 

Lunga first appears in teal-colored scrubs with red epaulets covered in badges signifying a long and accomplished career in care, while Jack wears a lordly, velvet dressing gown that might have been culled from an old costume shop, but conveys a shabby grandeur nonetheless.  

When Lunga spies a framed show poster featuring a dashing younger Jack as Richard II, he’s impressed. It’s here where the two men experience a bit of bonding over their mutual admiration for the Bard. Lunga’s exposure has been minimal—in the segregated education system of his youth, the Shakespeare reading list was limited to “Julius Caesar,” an historical tragedy that can be interpreted as a warning against the dangers of rebellion.  

At one point, Jack recites a famous bit from the play (“friends, Romans, countrymen”) in English, and Lunga repeats the monologue in his native Bantu language. 

After learning that Jack aims to take on Lear, Lunga tackles the tragedy. Reading “King Lear” over several weeks serves as an entry into aspects of Jack’s life. They have never been closer.

Other times, the employer and employee revert to old habits. They’re often at odds with Jack unwarrantedly threatening to fire Lunga over mostly imagined infractions and affronts. 

Director Ruben Santiago-Hudson brings out both the work’s comedy and the drama. 

As Jack, Gero is mostly buoyed along by an enduring ambition and gulps of alcohol. There is humor along with harshness and the glaring indignities of ravaging illness. Kani’s Lunga is fully aware of the gravity required by his profession, but he can’t seem to resist lapsing into jokes and easy smiles. It’s a keen and interesting portrayal of a character who’s seen a lot.

There have been disappointments. Lunga was on his way to becoming a doctor when the apartheid government put a stop to those plans; he became a nurse instead.

Just when Lunga takes a day off from work to check on his tidy little home in Soweto, a predominantly black township, Jack shows up unexpectedly. And he’s more than tipsy—yes, he’s still drinking. Ostensibly he’s come to have his nurse snap a promotional photo for “King Lear.” Despite circumstances, Jack yearns for a final triumph– he’s hellbent on playing the old king before his ghost light goes out.

The scene is partly funny, but it’s here that aspects of the lack of parity in the men’s relationship goes on full display.

STC’s production incorporates exciting scene transitions with statuesque singer Ntebo, garbed in a vivid gown and headwrap, musically conjuring the spirit of Africa. 

While Lunga is able to embrace tradition, the ancestors, and modern medicine, Jack regards deference to that kind of cultural custom as so much hokum, beneath the dignity of an educated nurse. 

Their worlds are different. While Jack’s ethnocentricity may prevent him from tangible change, there’s a lot here for the rest of us to consider. 

‘The Figs’
Through March 16
Rorschach Theatre
1020 Connecticut Ave., N.W.
$20-$50
rorschachtheatre.com

“Sometimes playwrights can get a bad rap for being difficult,” says out dramatist Doug Robinson. “In truth, all we’re saying is that we wrote something with intention, please hold space for that intention.”  

The local playwright continues, “I’ve been really fortunate in finding some amazing directors who want to work in concert with me. And now I’m lucky again.” 

Robinson’s latest work “The Figs” directed by Randy Baker, is playing at Rorschach Theatre in downtown D.C. The story surrounds “a fig-obsessed king’s bizarre contest sets off a whirlwind adventure featuring quirky farmers, a lovesick innkeeper, and a chaotic storyteller.” 

Robinson, 32, who earned his MFA in playwriting from the Yale School of Drama, was introduced to theater at River Bend Elementary in Virginia as a member of the “Hello, Dolly!” ensemble. Instantly smitten, he has been acting, directing, and writing ever since. 

An immersive experience, Rorschach’s production of “The Figs” is performed in what used to be a big and tall store and is now a big and tall performance space. “I’m confident that it’s a good play that can sustain some experimentation,” he says. 

WASHINGTON BLADE: I’ve read your play “deconstructs traditional storytelling with self-aware humor, queer characters, and unexpected twists.” How would you describe it?

ROBINSON: I’d call it a folktale comedy. The big inspiration is that I love the fairytale adventure film “The Princess Bride” and TV’s animated show “Over the Garden Wall.” I like things kind of weird and lovely. As if the Brothers Grimm were told as they’re supposed to be, but with a hopeful finish. 

A friend describes my plays as “bloody whimsy” There are real stakes in what’s going on; nothing I write will shy away from what is hard, but it also will explore what is lovely and earnest in the most difficult situations. 

BLADE: Beyond entertainment is there an aim? 

ROBINSON: For me, “The Fig” has two purposes: to remind audiences that they are imaginative beings and stories have purpose; and secondly, while I love “The Princess Bride,” there are no POC in the film, so there’s that.

This is definitely a play that’s representative. For the D.C. regional premiere there’s a Black woman playing Princess. The previous Florida production featured an Asian woman in that role.

BLADE: Are you involved in casting? 

ROBINSON: I don’t get too specific about who plays what part, but I want to ensure that when a company is doing this play, they’re asking themselves “How do we fill out this world? How is that world representative of the world we currently live in?” 

BLADE: As a playwright can you ensure that? 

ROBINSON: Yes, it’s about trust and also about contract. As a playwright I will always have some level of access to whatever production is happening based on my choice. I can choose not to be too involved or I can choose to be very involved in things and that might include casting.

Not to say that I’ll dictate, but I might ask to see the headshots of actors they’re considering. I might say that it doesn’t feel like a diverse group and I need them to honor what the play is and if they can’t do that, they’re in breach of contract. 

BLADE: Would you say you’ve built a queer play? 

ROBINSON:  Princess Sadie is in love with another woman, a bartender named Lorna. I grew up in an openly queer space. To me a lesbian romance isn’t unique; after all, that wasn’t unusual in high school, it was everywhere. For me, these are simply queer women in a play. It’s just like how they exist in life. And of course, I’m going to uplift the people and community I love. 

BLADE: What was your way into theater? 

ROBINSON: Here’s how I tell it: I’m five years old and I’m watching “Power Rangers.” I want to be a Power Ranger. And my mother tells me Power Rangers aren’t real. What are they? Actors. OK, I want to be an actor.  

BLADE: What’s something you like and something you want in theater? 

ROBINSON: I believe in ensemble and I believe in actors doubling and tripling roles. In “The Figs,” there’s upwards of 20 roles played by eight actors. It demands a nimbleness in the performers and it’s a skill I want to see more of in theater. 

I love theater that doesn’t pretend not to theater. We need to be as theatrical as possible in what we’re doing. I want it loudly imaginative and physically exhausting for the actors involved. I want that. 

“Fuenteovejuna”
Through March 2
GALA Hispanic Theatre
3333 14th St., N.W.
$27-$50
Galatheatre.org

Inventively staged and strongly acted, GALA Hispanic Theatre’s production of Lope de Vega’s classic “Fuenteovejuna,” vividly brings to life an old but timely tale of injustice and power. A lot of theatergoers will find this work (first published in Madrid in 1619) painfully relevant. 

Possibly Lope de Vega’s most produced play, this version of “Fuenteovejuna,” penned by renowned contemporary Spanish playwright Juan Mayorga, is markedly shorter than others you might have seen. While purists may not concur, it’s generally agreed that Mayorga has effectively condensed the plot and modernized the verse.

The action kicks off with cast members jovially sharing jokes that are mostly lost on those of us relying on the production’s English surtitles, but no matter, it creates a happy mood of a contented townsfolk whose lives are soon to be horribly disrupted. (From there on, all translation is clear and presents no difficulties.)

Lope de Vega based the play on a true incident. In 1476 in Southern Spain, village residents, unwilling to accept ongoing abuse, banded together and overthrew a brutish commander.  

Here, the Commander/Comendador (played menacingly by Iker Lasker) sets upon the town and specifically the mayor’s daughter Laurencia (Julia Adun in her GALA debut). In short, the all-powerful bully makes the brave young woman’s life miserable, and as he grows increasingly insistent the situation becomes perilous.

Initially she relies on the protection of her male friends. But it’s not enough. 

As Laurentia is further harassed and ultimately assaulted, she somehow becomes stronger, and emboldened. Disappointed by the town’s men, she calls on the women to rebel: “Sisters, take your places, and let’s do something that will shake the whole world.”

Like all the classics, the work’s themes are enduring. Justice, decency, and collective identity are among the pressing topics explored. 

Also, integral to the play’s story is the love between Laurencia and her fiancé who becomes a target of the Comendador’s savagery. Additionally, there are fine examples of familial love and genuine friendship. 

There’s a lot to love about out director Juan Luis Arellano’s glowing production. It moves swiftly and excitingly. He’s assembled a large cast of talented, experienced actors (including Luz Nicolás, who plays Flores, the Commander’s right-hand man) and an outstanding design team.

Arellano has thoughtfully imbued the piece with exceptional modes of storytelling. 

For instance, off to the side but still clearly seen, DJ (Aldo Ortega) provides both mediaeval and rock music. Occasionally characters step away from the other players to narrate from a standing mic beneath a dramatic spotlight. 

Scenic designer Giorgos Tsappas’s set is both a thing of beauty and unexpected functionality. Comprised of different elements that include a huge silver pendulum, a sandy floor, a curved wooden bench backed by a concrete-esque curved backdrop. All of its parts are smartly and organically integrated into the staging. 

At the top of the second act, a door rather surprisingly opens, allowing the Commander surrounded by actors costumed in dark sheep masks, passage to the stage. It’s a striking image. 

The set is compellingly lit by stalwart designer Jesús Díaz Cortés. He’s also responsible for the captivating visuals shot from overhead and projected on the imposing back wall. All the visual design work looks subtly expensive. 

“Fuenteovejuna” is Lope de Vega at his best, and GALA’s production is the perfect means of introduction or a revisit.