This article first appeared in THE SUNDAY INDEPENDENT

28th September 2008

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During times of political uncertainty or potentially momentous (and potentially unsettling) change, we rarely look to our artists for comment. This seems a pity, as it reflects the unexalted stature of the arts in our country, and indeed worldwide – but in at least one way it is appropriate. Ars longa est, as they say: “art is long”. Yet a week in politics is a lifetime. Indeed, most works of art – on stage, between book covers, in galleries – that do engage directly with ephemeral political events have a comparatively short life span. What art can do, however, is address those human dilemmas and emotions that outlast all our most important current affairs.

Such a work of art is Coupé, a piece of theatre set in an instantly recognisable South African reality but tackling what might, hesitantly, be called “universal” concerns. After being enthusiastically received when it was first performed some two years ago, Coupé has been reprised and re-worked by director Sue Pam-Grant and her cast, and will run at the Market Theatre until the 26th of October.

The coupé in question is 3B, a cabin on a train travelling through the night across the country. Its occupants are Dwayne Buckman (Gerard Bester), a nervous but well-meaning English-speaking South African; Francois le Grange (Brian Webber), a garrulous and corpulent Afrikaner; and Felicité Strasbourg (Sylvaine Strike), a beautiful Frenchwoman who speaks neither English nor Afrikaans.

They are thrown together for a cramped, occasionally drunken, frequently awkward and constantly entertaining journey during the course of which – despite the language barrier and the stifling atmosphere – the three passengers develop a curiously poignant emotional connection.

Each of them is unhappy, but hides this with halting success. Dwayne, stumbling and withdrawn, has recourse to the trite advice and aphorisms printed on disposable packets of sugar or tomato sauce; Francois veers from alcoholic gaiety to dronkverdriet; while Felicité, perfectly-kempt, polite and pert in company, actually feels utterly isolated by her alien surroundings.

Other characters appear and disappear: the fey maitre d’ of the dining car with his outlandish protea boutonnière, the grumpy but servile waiter (similarly clad) and the chain-smoking cook. Nevertheless, the overwhelming feeling of the piece is one of cosmic loneliness, which the three protagonists resist heroically by engaging – at times reluctantly, at times desperately – with their travelling companions.

The train pushing through the night in the vast landscapes of the Karoo offers an existential metaphor (removed temporarily from the distractions of everyday life, these characters have to confront the fundamental problems of unhappiness and of the irreducible distance between human beings), but ultimately it is the experience of staring into a simultaneously comic and totemic springbok head mounted on the carriage-wall that forces each of them to contemplate their separate and separated identities.

If this all sounds a little serious, the tone of the production is anything but heavy – on the contrary, for most of the show the emphasis is on the quirky traits of each character, combined with superb physical comedy to make for an extremely funny production.

Strike (who developed the original concept behind Coupé while commuting on the Paris Metro), Bester and Le Grange are all consummate physical performers as well as “character” actors. These skills are displayed on a small, circular split stage that is used to great effect as it is rotated by the shunter-cum-conductor (Toni Morkel), revealing by turns the shared sleeping compartment, the dining car and the corridors outside these spaces.

The stage not only revolves but constantly rocks from side to side, or seems to rock, while the cast beat out the familiar rhythms of a train moving over its tracks with their hands, shoes, cutlery and other objects.

Although the performance space is confined, careful attention has been paid to ensuring that audience members feel “on board”. In addition to Chen Nakar’s inventive set, entry into the Barney Simon Theatre at the Market is via a circuitous route that leads past the paraphernalia of a train station, while Des Lindberg’s soundscape and Declan Randall’s lighting effectively evoke the sense data of a train journey.

Coupé is both a light-hearted and a substantial piece of theatre. News headlines notwithstanding, it’s a rewarding show.