Learning to Dance

by James Trainor

Dreamwell - Onstage at Dreamwell Theatre is Master Harold…and the Boys. Written by Athol Fugard and originally produced in 1982, the play takes place in apartheid South Africa. It involves Hally, a bright young student, and the servants in his mother’s tea room. The tea room is a refuge from a world explicitly defined by racial tension, and Hally is quite fond of Sam and Willy. When he was a boy, he took to hiding in their room to escape his difficult family life. It was there that he began teaching Sam geography, eventually moving on to history, philosophy and literature. When Sam and Hally discuss these topics onstage, it is clear that, despite Sam’s lack of formal education, he is Hally’s mental equal.

Hally, though, has trouble seeing this. He’s apparently unaware of the irony when he accuses Sam, who refuses to accept Charles Darwin’s theories, of intellectual bigotry. “I’ve educated you,” he tells Sam, and he doesn’t seem to acknowledge that Sam might have something to teach him. He is dismissive, in particular, of the ballroom dance competition that Sam is helping Willy prepare for. “You can’t exactly say it challenges the intellect,” Hally insists. “It does other things,” Sam informs him.

Sam describes the world that a ballroom allows us to imagine: a world of perfect harmony, “a world without collisions.” Political life, a brutish clumsy place, is full of conflict and missteps. “People get hurt in their bumping,” Sam laments. “When are we ever going to learn to get it right?” On the dance floor, we practice getting it right. Dancing is elegant, careful and precise; there is no room for accident. In this it fits Hally’s definition of art: it “gives form to the formless.” Hally, who despite his mental rigidity is growing into a progressive man, lights on this idea as a paper topic. “A World Without Collisions: Ballroom Dancing as a Political Vision,” he announces, and encourages Sam to elaborate. For a brief time, he is happy and safe again, uninhibited and childlike, as he was years ago when Sam taught him to fly a kite.

Hally’s life is not a ballroom, however, and he is destined to collide with his family. His father, a crippled alcoholic, will be returning home soon, and every time the phone rings Hally is reminded how trapped he is and how much pressure is on him to take the path prescribed to him. When Sam tries to console him and encourages him to see his father with compassion, Hally lashes out. He accepts his role as white oppressor and takes his anger out on Sam, his spiritual father. In doing so, he threatens to replace their personal relationship with the political roles they inhabit. Sam is all too ready to start calling the boy “Master Harold,” but he makes it clear that it will be at the cost of their friendship.

Dreamwell’s production of Master Harold does this thought-provoking play justice. The actors are skillful and very committed. Roe Lloyd is charming as Sam; though he takes a while to warm up, his speech at the play’s climax is well worth the wait. Thomas Henrich is energetic and subtle as Hally; he’s able to tell us a lot about his character with a simple look. Patrick Rashid is great as Willy; he is a quiet but powerful presence on stage, and his accent work takes us seamlessly into the setting.

Rachael Lindhart's direction really serves the themes of the play. For much of the play, the action is slow and subtle; the real conflicts—the inevitable collisions—are inert, passed over, acknowledged and yet ignored. Hally, it seems, is loathe to accept his role as master to his childhood friends. Everyone in the room is aware of their political relationship, but they value their personal bond more, so they never play these roles in earnest. Lindhart’s pacing here is excellent—the play moves easily along, and the seeds for conflict are planted clearly and seamlessly. When the catalyst comes from outside and pushes this conflict to a point Hally can no longer bear, the sparks fly suddenly. This careful craft pays off; the climax is engaging and exciting.

Master Harold…and the Boys was first presented in New York, not in Fugard’s home country of South Africa. Perhaps the South African government was made uncomfortable by a play in which a black man served as such a strong spiritual center. Maybe the direct depiction of racial conflict at the climax was too much for an already splintering apartheid society. At any rate, it shouldn’t be surprising that, despite the changes the last two decades have brought to South Africa, the play still rings true. It transcends its historical context. This is because Fugard, as Lindhart says, “describes apartheid as a personal pain.” The political pressures that prevent compassionate human contact are present in any society, and this is what makes Master Harold such a universal—and inciting—play.

James recently graduated from Cornell College with a Bachelor of Special Studies in English and Theater. He has also acted and directed for Stage Left Theater in Cedar Rapids.