Latest news with #AntonLuitingh

Daily Maverick

Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat — Here's what it means to be wonderstruck

It might be centred on its titular golden boy, but now playing in Joburg is an iteration of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat that's a triumph of theatrical teamwork. Pushing beyond the perceived limits of the musical, it respectfully illuminates the material in brand-new ways. The rumours are true: Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat is the show of the year. From the golden voice of the dreamboat playing Joseph to the gold lamé short-shorts worn by the ensemble in one of the show's many visually striking scenes, the latest South African production of this 50-year-old musical is a trove of precious moments. It has it all: grit, wit, pizzazz and punch. Plus tremendous behind-the-scenes chutzpah and superlative on-stage talent. There's an X-factor, too: real innovation, that extra-special something making sure that, by the time you skip into the foyer at interval, pulse elevated, adrenaline coursing, you know that all bets are off, that theatre still possesses the capacity to surprise and astonish. By the end of it all, you'll be racking your brain to figure out how they packed so much into a show that is over in the blink of an eye. Perhaps it's the gorgeousness of everyone and everything on stage; or maybe the sizzling arrangements of songs you're familiar with but which get a blast of mould-breaking energy. Perhaps it's the choreography that makes you want to hit the dance floor and the performances which, across the board, bring the house down again and again. Or maybe it's simply the beyond-all-expectation conceptualisation that's transformed something so familiar into a whole new beast, something that's fresh, funky and full of heart. Whichever of the show's visceral thrills it is that grabs you, it's a real soul-stirrer, too, a masterfully rendered translation of a very human story about an enlightened young man who ultimately possesses the wisdom – and the power – to forgive those who've wronged him. In the context of global events, particularly the conflagration in the region where this musical's events play out, there could hardly be a more apt allegorical lesson for humanity. Bold reinvention Barely a scene unfolds that does not in some way signal bold reinvention or cause a kind of recalibration. Directors Anton Luitingh and Duane Alexander (who know the musical inside out, having both performed in it) have created a show full of surprises, one that throws open the doors of imagination and from start to finish is an exhilarating reminder that there is nothing on Earth like live theatre. That of course sounds like hyperbole, but this entire show is hyperbolic, a seminal study in reaching deep and giving your all. It's what can happen when the whole team is on board. Each performer is so thoroughly, wholeheartedly invested. Whether it's Joseph's rascally brothers hamming it up with their hilarious fake mourning skills after they sell their too-handsome, too-clever, too-proud brother into slavery, or Potifer's wife (played by a foxy Yethu Kibi, outfitted in a beguiling leopard-print bodysuit) pulling a seduction number on still-innocent, still-learning Joseph. Dreamy Dylan Janse van Rensburg is a phenomenal Joseph: he sings like a dream, dances like a star and wears his role and his toned-down many-coloured coat and matching shorts with such dignity, then transforms just as comfortably into his velvet and then his golden threads as the costumes visually express his ascent up the food chain of power and influence. It is a beautiful performance in which the character's inherent goodness, wisdom and generous spirit manifest with such absolute clarity. From an altogether different school of charm is crowd-pleaser Christopher Jaftha, who (with and without his insane washboard abs) brings a trio of hilarious characters to life. His turn as Potifer is an absolute scream, a kind of jazzed-up Scrooge caricature, complete with velvet smoking jacket and a lust-filled wife filtered through the lens of Hollywood's Golden Age. Later, when he almost unrecognisably transforms into smoking-hot Pharaoh, he is either an Elvis impersonator channelling an Egyptian pharaoh, or an Egyptian king who dreams of being a Vegas rock star. Either way, he's sensational, his character so marvellously in love with himself he can barely open his mouth to get the words out, as if we're seeing an entirely reinvented King of Rock self-parody. It's a gorgeous play on uninhibited self-awareness, wonderfully finessed, wildly funny and shamelessly indulgent. And, in wonderful contrast to Jaftha's egomaniacal rock star, there's the effortless ease of Lelo Ramasimong, who plays the Narrator so enchantingly it's as though your favourite relative is telling you a life-affirming bedtime story. Life-affirming, too, is the score, given a sparkling reboot by musical supervisor Charl-Johan Lingenfelder, who has in the process of ferrying the music into a new era added a heart-thumping edge to the energetic numbers while retaining the poetry and lyricism of the more intimate songs. The result is transcendent; you leave the theatre feeling as though every cell in your body has been given a mood upgrade. Much of that full-system rewiring is thanks to the scorching choreography (Duane Alexander again, together with Jared Schaedler), which is in constant dialogue with the story and the music – so whether the cast is pulsing in glorious unison on the tips of their toes, or slinking comedically across the stage like eroticised servants who double as lounge lamps, the movements and dance steps constantly add narrative thrift and potency. There's much glitz and glam and razzle-dazzle, but there's plenty that's raw, gritty and offbeat that comes shining through, too. And there's an intimacy, an electric spark that's only truly possible in live performance, a feeling that the actors on stage are looking you directly in the eye, making a genuine connection. And there's that lump in your throat you get from knowing that these talented individuals – stars, each and every one of them – are performing just for you, that they've poured their hearts and souls and every fibre in their being into creating this wondrous experience just for you. You will feel the result of that commitment: the heat coming off the stage, the palpable rush of excitement and energy, the joyful intoxication. It is 2025's 'everything show', the one they'll be talking about long after those happy ear worms you take home with you have finally quietened down. DM