South African born internationally acclaimed director and playwright, Yaël Farber, sets her explosive new adaptation of Strindberg’s Miss Julie in the remote, bleak beauty of the Eastern Cape Karoo. Transposed to a post-apartheid kitchen – a single night, both brutal and tender, unfolds between a black farm-labourer, the daughter of his master and the woman who has raised them both. The visceral struggles of contemporary South Africa are laid bare, as John and Mies Julie spiral in a deadly battle over power, sexuality, mothers and memory. Haunting and violent, intimate and epic, the characters struggle to address issues of reprisal and the reality of what can and cannot ever be recovered.
Mies Julie is the winner of a number of awards including, the Best Of Edinburgh Fringe Award, an Edinburgh Fringe First Award and an Edinburgh Herald Angel Award. In December 2012, Mies Julie was listed in the Guardian's top ten best theatre picks of 2012 and in the Top Ten Plays of 2012 by the New York Times.
An outstanding and bold (and also explicit) adaptation that adds race, colonialism and a truly feminist perspective to the issues of class and sex that come with the original Strindberg material.
I hadn’t heard of this play before I received my university reading list, but it is based on another piece by August Strindberg called Miss Julie (I hadn’t heard of that either).
It’s a very short play that takes place in one night in the kitchen of a large house in South Africa in the 90s. The only characters in the play are a black mother and son, who work in the house, and the white daughter of the home and land owner. The white girl has been raised by the black slave, but now sees herself as superior, as is often the case.
This book raises many relevant discussion points, but the one that also applies to many countries and places around the world is: who has more of a right to the land? The people whose ancestors lived and died there or the people who took the land by force and govern it now? Maybe that’s an easy question to answer. But what if we zoom in on individuals? Both born there. Both have known no other home. Both feel a connection to the place. Now who is more entitled to the land? It’s easy if one of them is “the bad guy”, isn’t it? But what if there’s no such thing as a bad guy and only “bad actions”. Can we judge someone’s entire life by one singular action?
We can apply this to so many countries around the world; it’s caused by colonialism; by greed. In the process of trying to have it all, people are forgotten. The peace of an individual is disturbed and seeing as we only have one chance to enjoy this life, that seems wrong to me. It’s hard not to see colonialism as the cause of all problems sometimes.
a very strong and gripping adaptation ! it’s one of the few plays where I couldn’t strongly dislike or like any character, but it’s for the better. Except my girl Christine, I love Christine