Chester Miggels reviews
In a Cape Town theatre landscape often dominated by predictable and conventional narratives, it takes something rare to disrupt that familiarity. The Stranger, directed by Brett Bailey and recently staged at Theatre Arts, is precisely that disruption. A ritualistic theatrical experience that pulls the audience into a sonic and spiritual landscape so carefully constructed that its awakening lingers long after the performance ends.
This staging reimagines the ancient Greek myth of Orpheus through a distinctly South African lens, using music, movement and ritual to probe questions of loss, belonging, and shared humanity.
Unlike a typical play driven by plot, The Stranger unfolds as an immersive experience: a gifted musician, played with remarkable presence by Nkosenathi Koela. His journey, from devotion and love to grief and transcendence, becomes a vessel through which Bailey interrogates the fragility of community. Bailey himself narrates sections of the story, while the performers respond through movement, music and gesture. Yet this is not a production driven by dialogue alone. The text becomes secondary to the atmosphere created through sound, rhythm and physical storytelling. The result is a layered theatrical experience that feels both accessible and astonishingly immersive.
Koela’s music is the production’s lifeblood. Ethereal, evocative and deeply rooted in ancestral sound worlds, the music carries an emotional weight that words alone could never achieve. It whispers of despair, love and hope, drawing audiences into a sonic space that is as compelling as the visual and physical performance. The music reverberates through the body, the choreography reshapes the stage into a sacred space, and the ritual objects accumulate symbolic meaning as the performance unfolds.
The staging at Theatre Arts strips back theatrical artifice in favour of ritual-like simplicity, inviting viewers into liminal spaces where silence and sound hold equal power. Bailey’s direction prioritises experiential resonance, urging audiences not merely to watch, but to inhabit the emotional terrain of the piece. There are no easy resolutions here, only the shared recognition of vulnerability and connection. The production places Orpheus, portrayed by Nkosenathi Koela, on an elevated area upstage surrounded by a variety of instruments. His role serves as the musical and spiritual centre of the performance. An altar adorned with deities is positioned center stage, while ritual objects are progressively engaged and altered as the performance unfolds.
One of the production’s most memorable moments unfolds not on the stage but among the audience. During a musical sequence, a white woman suddenly stands up and begins dancing, initially appearing like a drunken patron swept up by the energy of the performance. Her bold step into the performers’ space creates unease, even outrage. As her movements intensify, the performers respond by clapping and singing, drawing her deeper into the unfolding ritual. Only afterwards does it become clear that she is actually part of the show, representing Eurydice. The moment is intentionally disorienting. By breaching the boundary between audience and performance, it prompts reflection on vulnerability, belonging and the limits of cultural space. The scene cleverly exposes the audience’s own assumptions while reinforcing the production’s themes of interconnectedness and cultural tension.
In the growing body of South African theatre that seeks to engage with societal fractures, The Stranger stands out for its spiritual depth and artistic daring. It doesn’t offer tidy explanations or dramatic catharsis; instead, it invites reflection, empathy and a renewed appreciation for the power of performance to transfigure ritual and spiritual experience.
The Stranger is a poetic and haunting theatrical journey. One that confronts the fractures of our age with music, ritual, and myth, inviting audiences into a shared space of contemplation that is both challenging and profoundly affecting.