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SOUTH AFRICAN dramatists and writers alike must continually resist the considerable temptation to overuse apartheid themes in their work. In artistic terms, after all, it's a safe bet. The writer knows very well where he stands, what his task is--he can count on the audience to react predictably. Readers and viewers, too, are attracted to the theme: they can feel the profound emotions of injustice and compassion without too much effort. There is an almost conditioned response involved.
Playwright Athol Fugard's semi-autobiographical Master Harold and the Boys takes place in segregated South Africa in 1950. What makes this a great work, however, is its ability to transcend the racial line and take us into a higher realm of human emotions. That is not to say apartheid is not a subject, but it is only one facet in this play of interlocking themes.
The drama takes place on a rainy afternoon in the tea room of Master Harold's mother. Harold (Charles Michael Wright), an odd, nervous white boy of about 16, comes home every day to the lounge and indulges in an afternoon's entertainment with the hired Black help, Sam (James Earl Jones) and Willie (Delroy Lindo). The trio share a wonderful relationship dating back to when Harold--Hallie as he's affectionately called--was a child.
An air of intimacy quickly envelops the characters. Though Hallie's English is erudite and proper and Willie and Sam rattle on in patois, the three speak the same language. In the empty tea room, the two men delight Hallie with their conversation and occasional hilarity, and he in turn gives lessons on a variety of subjects to Sam, who thirsts for the knowledge his young friend provides. The boy takes a keen interest in the big dance contest the men are preparing for and they watch over his shoulder as he wrestles with his homework. The audience immediately feels bound up in this seemingly unbreakable camaraderie.
The acting is faultless, thus leaving the audience free to immerse itself in the actual drama. Jones's thoughtful and patient Sam contrasts with the frenetic Hallie, and the two make a curious yet perfect match. Director Fugard gives Lindo a side seat, where he peppers the play with his humorous antics and allows Sam and Hallie's relationship--the center of the action--to emerge unhindered.
Jones delivers his performance with commanding intensity. He has accepted his place in an unjust society with humility, but still maintains tremendous pride and hope. He caters to the capricious Hallie not out of obedience, but out of empathy for the troubled boy.
Wright, also, realizes his character to the fullest. He captures the manic quality of Hallie who at one moment dreams aloud of the possibility of a better world, and in the next broods over the misery of the present one.
Gradually, there evolves an understanding of the true nature of their relationship. Sam is not just a fascination for Hallie, a nice kaffir, but a figure of support for a boy desperately trying to escape a family life torn apart by alcoholism and illness.
THE ENCHANTED world they create for themselves soon shatters. Hallie receives a phone call from his mother saying she is bringing his invalid father home from the hospital. The thought of late nights massaging the man's withered legs terrifies the boy as he sees his period of tranquility coming to an abrupt end. "Just when you're enjoying yourself someone comes along and weeks everything," he says despondently. The father's drinking compounds further the horror for his young son.
The homecoming announcement marks a turning point. The atmosphere moves away from levity to confrontation; Hallie withdraws from the festivities into the role of Master Harold. Overcome by embarrassment about his father, he seeks to keep what precious little dignity he has by suddenly lording over Sam and Willie and clinging to his status in society.
Sam understands all this and the resolution of the play lies in whether or not he can coax Hallie back out of his shell. Hallie needs Sam's friendship more than ever. And underneath Sam's attempt to shield Hallie from the cruelty of the world is his own burning need to prove that whites and Blacks can live peacefully together.
If Sam succeeds, then the play represents Fugard's conviction that the human heart can conquer all obstacles. But if he doesn't, if Hallie slips away into a world of prejudice and fear, then we must concur with Hallie's statement, "Life's a fuck-up and it's never going to change."
Master Harold and the Boys challenges the audience to evaluate its own conception of justice. Every country has its own apartheid, be it between Black and white or rich and poor, and unless these barriers are surmounted now, we run the tremendous risk of poisoning future generations.
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