STAGE REVIEW : South Africa’s ‘Sarafina!’: Agitprop to a Pulsing Beat

Nothing has spiked the pulse of world theater over the past 15 years more than the South African township performance style. “Sarafina!,” which made its Southern California debut Thursday at the Doolittle, is the latest, most extravagant example.

The line began for us in the mid-’70s, when John Kani and Winston Ntshona brought over “The Island” and “Sizwe Banzi Is Dead,” and it continued through “Woza Albert!,” “Asinamali!” and “Bopha.” The works are characterized by simplicity of presence (nobody in the townships has serious money, and nobody knows when he’s going to have to drop everything and run for his life), as well as emotional clarity and ebullience, testimonial address, explosive physical tension, and an amazing capacity to get straight to the heart of things.

“Sarafina!” brings agitprop to the dance, and nobody wants to sit down. In his program notes, director-choreographer-lyricist Mbongeni Ngema tells us how in the mid-’80s he first wanted to write something that would turn the rhythms and sounds of Mbaqanga (South African township music) out into the world. Then, partly as a result of a sit-down with Winnie Mandela, he decided to write about the township children as well, many of whom have had friends and relatives killed in the racial struggles that took a particularly bloody turn during and after the Soweto uprising of 1976.

In “Sarafina!,” he’s two-for-two. For decades we’d heard in Hugh Masekela’s music the brassy choral shouts and piercing guitar licks of Mbaqanga (he’s added some songs to “Sarafina!,” including the hit “Bring Back Nelson Mandela”). More recently, Ladysmith Black Mambazo popularized the alluvial harmonic richness of Zulu a cappella music.

The music is ripe for Morris Isaacson High School’s class of 1976, which has suffered the year firsthand and wants to put on a play to tell about it (a black armed guard has carved up the student body with an automatic rifle, and the school chokes in the aftermath of the violence like a smoldering war zone). Sarafina, the brightest of the group, commandeers the role of Nelson Mandela in the drama whose end has yet to be played out--freedom.

Some of the images in “Sarafina!” are all too familiar, particularly those of youngsters as pallbearers (which we see in our own inner cities as well). But most are specific to this group of kids--no one has ever sung “The Lord’s Prayer” with more undulant sly wit, for example, and everything is an occasion for high-kicking dance. Ngema and his cast of 23 show us how the irrepressible high-spiritedness of youth becomes converted into the passions of militancy. Surprisingly, “Sarafina!” doesn’t darken with rage; it lightens and soars with self-discovery.

All these kids have horror stories--is the character Silence’s hyena laugh an echo of the night when his father was savaged by police dogs? But none of them are bitter, or racked with self-pity, or peering grimly into the murky rubble of Armageddon. As the stage erupts with fiercely exuberant Zulu song and dance, it’s clear that their connection with a resplendent past is more than a match for their uncertain future, which seems to beckon their eager faces.

There are a lot of ways to enjoy “Sarafina!” As sheer entertainment, it’s a blast. The ensemble is vibrantly skilled and shaped not only by the demands of Ngema’s choreography but also by the shared references of growing up in a place where a specific kind of music and dance is laced into the atmosphere.

But there’s a powerful inner vibration as well. There’s no wimpy self-congratulation in the way these kids sing. They’ve lived on the edge for so long that the mere act of drawing breath is a joy, and we feel it, beyond youth’s blind faith in vindication.

“Sarafina!” doesn’t face South Africa’s current problems of internecine tribal warfare or the catastrophic result of a generation turned away from schooling--one could argue that these issues didn’t seem paramount in 1976. But like virtually all of the country’s first-rate literature and drama, it solves a dilemma that befuddles most artists of the industrialized West by showing how we can be deeply political and deeply human at the same time. You can see those opposites in the face of Leleti Khumalo, who plays Sarafina. In repose, it’s inscrutably grave. When animated, it lights up like a marquee. That’s the image we carry home in this rousing tribute to the efficacy of hope.

“Sarafina!,” UCLA James A. Doolittle Theater, 1615 N. Vine St., Hollywood. (213) 365-3500, (714) 740-1000. Tuesdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Saturday-Sunday matinees, 2 p.m.; 7 p.m. on Sundays July 21 and 28, Aug. 4 and 11, Sept. 1; Thursday 2 p.m. matinees on Aug 1 and 22, Sept. 5, 12, 19, 26. Ends Sept. 29. Tickets: $29-$40. Running time: 2 hours, 30 minutes.

‘Sarafina!’

Pat Mlaba: Colgate

Lindiwe Dlamini: Teaspoon

Dumisani Dlamini: Crocodile

Congo Hadebe: Silence

Nhlanhla Ngema: Stimela Sasezola

Baby Cele: Mistress It’s a Pity

Mhlathi Khuzwayo: S’Ginci, Police Lieutenant

Leleti Khumalo: Sarafina

Thandekile Nhlanhla: Thandekile

Thandi Zulu: Thandi

Thamsanqa Hlatywayo: Bhoboza

Siboniso Khumalo: Siboniso

Ntomb’khona Dlamini: Magundane

Kipizane Skweyiya: Kipizane

Linda Mchunu: China

Thandani Mavimbela: Thandani, Priest

Mubi Mofokeng: Police Sergeant

Lindiwe Hlengwa: Lindiwe

Nandi Ndlovu: Nandi

Tim Hunter: Jeff

Lebo M.: Timba

Valerie Jerusha Rochon: Valerie

Harrison White: Dumi

A musical conceived, written and directed by Mbongeni Ngema, additional songs by Hugh Masekela. Set and costumes Sarah Roberts. Lighting Mannie Manim. Musical arrangements Ngema and Masekela.