We Are Proud to Present a Presentation About the Herero of Namibia, Formerly Known as South West Africa, From the German Südwestafrika, Between the Years 1884-1915
Reviewed by Julia Lloyd George
Third Culture Theatre
Extended through November 3
RECOMMENDED
How do you depict a genocide? That’s the question that the actors of the metatheatrical We Are Proud to Present… struggle to answer, propelling to the surface increasingly relevant concerns of what kinds of stories we should be telling and who should be allowed to tell them. Rather than provide easy answers, Sibblies Drury’s innovative, challenging play forces you to confront your own biases and embrace the inherent discomfort of that task. If that sounds awfully heavy, I should probably mention that We Are Proud to Present… is also rather hilarious. Given its excellent ensemble and Bryan Keith’s sensitive direction, it’s a production that should not be ignored.
It all starts with a group of six actors, in an authentically low-rent rehearsal room filled with basic black blocks, delivering a haphazard lesson on the history of the German occupation in Namibia. The ringleader is the comically earnest, yet nameless Black Woman (Francesca Gamez), who anxiously flips through her notecards before the group gathers around a projector beaming a map of Africa.
The “presentation” then bleeds into the behind-the-scenes process of staging a production about the genocide of the Herero people, as the actors try — and fail — to bring this horrific history to life. The crux of the problem is that the only surviving historical documents the actors could find are the letters the German occupants sent home to their wives.
In their desire to stick to the facts, the group repetitively rehearses a letter-writing scene between White Man (Dallis Seeker) and White Woman (Miranda Wynne). The letters are mundane and lifeless, offering no understanding or real perspective on the genocide. Both White Man and the fantastically eager White Woman struggle to “find” their characters and their motivations, treating the audience to some laughable histrionics over their inability to know their “active verb.”
The fact remains that the spotlight is on two well-intentioned, yet fairly ignorant white people appropriating the story of an African tribe’s genocide. When the previously quiet Black Man (Myles Bullock) finally decides to call out this elephant in the room, the fissures in the group begin to show. Though Black Man rightfully points out that the storytellers need to start prioritizing the “black experience,” the white actors consistently push back, saying they can’t just invent a story about the genocide without the appropriate historical documents to back it up.
Without a real consensus on what the story should be, the rehearsal devolves into increasingly alarming displays of violence that blur the line between performance and reality, which leads one to ask: How much of these improvisations are the actors’ inhabitations of their characters and how much are their own subconscious beliefs?
Though the path to this utter chaos feels unrealistically abrupt — it seems to be missing a few crucial steps and any vulnerable, personal moments from the characters that would lead them to unleash their demons in a theatrical rehearsal — the audience is nevertheless forced to confront some of the darkest deeds of humanity without any airbrushing effects. By the end, the spotlight has been re-focused on one of the ugliest events in our nation’s history. The actors don’t even come back for their traditional bow and applause — refusing to give the audience a reprieve from what’s directly in front of them. It’s as if to say, “Don’t forget, don’t look away.” It’s a message that demands absorption.
Third Culture Theatre, 1017 N. Orange Dr., Hollywood; Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m. & 8 p.m.; extended through Nov. 3. https://www.thirdculturetheatre.com/. Running time: 90 minutes with no intermission.
