John Kani and Edward Gero connect over 'King Lear' in the Shakespeare Theatre Company’s U.S. premiere of 'Kunene and the King,' which runs through March 23. Photo by Teresa Castracane Photography

• Share

PRINT

This month the Shakespeare Theatre Company brings the play Kunene and the King to D.C. for its U.S. premiere. Written by and starring South African playwright Dr. John Kani, it’s a heartfelt play in which, Kani has said, “A piece of you is on that stage.”  

Kani is best known as King T’Chaka in the film Black Panther, but he’s also an activist, writer and Tony Award-winning actor.  

Directed by Tony Award-winning director Ruben Santiago-Hudson, the play centers on two characters in post-apartheid South Africa who struggle to make sense of each other.  

Kani plays the role of Lunga Kunene, a Black retired nurse who takes a position caring for Jack Morris, played by Edward Gero, a Shakespearean actor who is dying of liver cancer.  

As a nurse, Kunene has had regular experience working with white people, and Kani imbues the role with dignified authority. Morris’ primary relationship with a Black person was with his former maid of 15 years, whose last name he never bothered to learn.   

In Gero’s skilled hands, Morris exhibits a flair as dramatic as his embroidered dressing gown, constantly distracting others from his alcoholism and ruined relationships.  

Gero brings to the often-dissembling character a vulnerability as he rages at the indignities of an illness that may prevent him from playing the role of King Lear before he dies. 

As the men poke at each other and, at times, connect, Kunene is not afraid to confront the truth. If he holds his tongue at times, it is because his own stories are too important for him to waste on a man who refuses to hear them.  

Over and over, the well-off Morris reveals how his comfortable, secure world has sheltered him from the struggles of Black South Africans.  

Having Shakespeare in common 

When both men discover a shared love of Shakespeare, however, Morris has the opportunity to appreciate Kunene for more than his nursing skills.  

In this moment of connection, the patient gets a glimpse of the cruelty of apartheid. While Morris had access to all of Shakespeare’s works, the South African government taught Black students only one Shakespearian play, Julius Caesar, which emphasized that attempts to overthrow the government will lead to death.  

Kunene cherishes the Bard’s language as translated into the Bantu language isiXhosa, which he shares with a delighted Morris. They read King Lear aloud, working on Morris’s lines while Kunene offers a sharp, funny, African perspective on the foolish king.  

There is a third character in the play: Isithunywa, a spirit who appears between acts to sing and dance at the front of the stage. South African actor Ntembo delivers a riveting performance in the role, but it’s unclear if she’s providing prophesy or commentary.  

Nonetheless, these moments of glorious punctuation between acts force the audience to consider the push-and-pull relationship between the men in a tense, contemporary South Africa that we may know little about. 

A final confrontation 

In the third act, the self-centered, lonely (and, to be fair, dying) Morris has grown so dependent on Kunene’s companionship that he surprises all of us, perhaps even himself, by making the dangerous trip to Kunene’s home in Soweto via a crowded taxi van. 

This is a place Morris has never been, a neighborhood that is not safe for Blacks, much less whites.  

Here we see Kunene’s spartan but immaculate home, which shares the same olive- and wheat-colored palette of Morris’s room, thanks to scenic designer Lawrence E. Moten III.  

In Kunene’s music-filled home, it’s clear that he cares for each record, plant and possession.  

By contrast, Morris’s larger home is packed with high-end appliances and objects that he largely ignores (except to hide his liquor bottles). It is in disarray, not because Morris is ill but because he’s never cleaned for himself.  

Although Kunene welcomes Morris with gracious hospitality, it is only a matter of time before the ailing Morris insults Kunene. Provoked in his personal space, Kunene fires Chekov’s proverbial gun, finally revealing the bitter story of the violence that destroyed his family and altered his youthful plans for the future.  

In that moment, when Kunene has at last been allowed to show himself as a wise, funny, knowledgeable and traumatized man, he asks Morris, the audience and his country, “Do you see me?”  

We do. 

Kunene and the King is performed at the Klein Theatre, located at 450 7th St. NW, Washington, D.C. With a run time of one hour and 40 minutes, the play has been extended through March 23.  

For tickets, which range from $35 to $195, visit shakespearetheatre.org or call the box office between noon and 6 p.m. daily at (202) 547-1122.