By Ludwig Spies
If you’ve ever wished that you were crazy enough to bungee jump or take hard drugs, but felt that either might end in tragedy you’ll be happy to hear that someone has finally created an alternative. The POPArt Theatre & Performing Art Centre is currently staging a production of We Didn’t Come To Hell For The Croissants, a deeply thrilling and subversive piece that will make you laugh, gasp and tear up. Performed by Jemma Kahn and Roberto Pombo, and directed by Lindiwe Matshikiza, Croissants uses the traditional Japanese art of kamishibai to tell a series of seven stories loosely inspired by the seven deadly sins. The stories are illustrated on a set of large paper cards that slot into a wooden frame. As Kahn narrates the stories, and Pombo provides sound effects, she removes the cards one-by-one to reveal the next scene of the story.
Kahn hates boring theatre. Thus, the stories are written and illustrated by different authors, and told as different genres in highly divergent styles. The first tale lulls like a bedtime story. This is followed, amongst others, by a scintillating musical number, a ‘dialogue’ in the form of a letter exchange, and a hilarious parody of a motivational speaker’s speech. The characters range from a deranged love-sick German youth, to a vengefully sadistic housewife to a glamorous Upper East Side housecat who inherits her owner’s fortune. Kahn so brilliantly brings the characters to life that one can barely decide whether to watch her or the edgy illustrations.
Satirical commentary is woven into all the stories, and the postmodern irony is thick like lemon meringue. But instead of leaving the audience depressed and disillusioned, these tales of vulnerable, deeply flawed and authentic people reveal the most delicate of sentiments. There are scenes of terrific violence that possess a counter-intuitive beauty. There are scenes of explicit and ridiculous sexual encounters that amuse (and arouse…) without deteriorating into mockery. Some of the stories do contain a cautionary message, but they do not preach.
Far from feeling old-fashioned, the low-tech, intimate production reminds of the Weimar cabaret of Berlin c. 1935. Kahn proudly describes the piece as queer theatre, and agrees that in many ways it is a revitalisation or a rediscovery of the vibrance that existed before that awful man with the small moustache came along.
Croissants is labelled as a sequel to Kahn’s first kamishibai piece, The Epicene Butcher (And Other Stories For Consenting Adults) – another play with a ridiculously long and unintelligible, but highly satisfying name. Fortunately, your understanding of Croissants will not be hampered if you didn’t see the prequel. The greatest barrier to your understanding will be your own inhibitions, and your own pretense that you don’t do weird things when nobody is watching. Kahn and Co. were brave enough to create this production. You should be brave enough to go see it and freakin’ enjoy it.
2. Croissants
