Master Harold...and the Boys

San Francisco
American Conservatory Theater
May 9 - June 3..

The Dramatic Art of Athol Fugard:
From South Africa to the World
(2000). Albert Wertheim

other Fugard books

    South Africa's great playwright Athol Fugard touches the heart, inspires with lyric beauty, and punches in the guts with soul-wrenching drama in Master Harold ...and the Boys. First performed in the United States in 1982, the play is expertly staged and performed in a new production at San Francisco's American Conservatory Theater.
    What would a drama set in the apartheid-dominated world of South Africa in 1950 seem like now? Would it be a period piece, quaintly irrelevant today?
    Not at all. Fugard's play is rooted in those times, but the enduring issues it treats--the need for self-respect and compassion for others in misfortune--transcend time and give his play a universality of undiminshed power. The drama lingers in the mind, particularly in this revival. The performances ring so true that watching the play is an act of eavesdropping on a very private experience.
   The story concerns a young, white South African boy (Master Harold, or Hally as he is called--the same nickname Fugard had in his youth) and his relationship to two black servants (the boys--Sam and Willie). As the play progresses, we learn of Hally's alcoholic father and the obvious distress the father causes the boy. For solace, Hally had turned to the two servants when he was younger, and the affection between him and Sam, in particular, is palpable.
   Fugard lets the story unfold gradually. We get to know something of Hally and his relationship to his parents. Hally has learned his studies with the help of Sam, and Hally treats Sam¹s learning with callow condescension. Sam and Willie are ballroom dancing enthusiasts, excited by a forthcoming competition. Sam describes the competition, so that Hally can write about it for a homework assignment. Steven Anthony Jones' performance as Sam gives full measure to the poetic writing that Fugard employs in this part of the play. The language and imagery soar, as we are carried aloft on sentiments of beauty tinged with humor.
    Suddenly the tone changes. Where the first hour had a genial, ambling pace, now Fugard increases its intensity. Hally learns his father is coming home from the hospital and is upset by the news. In his frustration he lashes out at Sam--a classic example of misdirected anger hurting a loved one. This leads to the climax of the play, where Hally¹s injurious and injudicious behavior towards Sam will permanently threaten their relationship.
    Perhaps it is the autobiographical nature of the story that has made it possible for Fugard to craft such a subtle work. The political aspects of the story, the facts and implications of living under apartheid, are made clear without preaching. But it is the human relationships, the obvious concern of an older man for the young boy, that are especially affecting. We care for each of the three characters. The torments they endure because of external forces makes their condition particularly poignant.
   Jones' performance as Sam could not be better. He is grand and caring and vulnerable. He moves skillfully through the complexity of the role, without calling attention to his acting. As Master Harold, Jonathan Sanders gives an extraordinary performance for someone so young. He is able to convey the confusion and anger of this unhappy boy and then make the change to a hardened exterior veneer--his armor against further unhappiness. Although Willie is a secondary role--he provides some comic relief and helps with transitions--Gregory Wallace imbues it with a gentle sweetness. He also listens carefully, so that his lack of dialogue is more than compensated by the way he reacts to what happens around him.
    Laird Willaimson has directed the play with discretion. He has trusted the script and avoided melodrama. There is no need for excessive theatrics--the impact of the climax, and the uncertainty that follows contain enough natural drama. Had he employed a heavier hand, the play would have lost its authenticity. The scenery by Ralph Funicello, Peter Maradudin's lighting, and Claudia Everett's costumes all contribute to the realism of this moving production.