Lessons of the Deep Night

Molebatsi Manzi

27 August 2010

If I had to describe PJ Sabbagha’s Deep Night, I would call it ‘The thin line between fantasy and reality at almost midnight’. I have a feeling he would agree with me.

The theatre piece is set outside a nightclub. The use of multimedia, particularly the video projected at the back of the stage, contributes to the argument for reality. However, as soon as the dancers start moving to the unusual choice of music, opera, the lines between reality of a night on the town and the exhausting battle with human emotions and thought becomes blurred.

Sabbagha’s use of prop and costume is often brief and almost inconspicuous but evokes powerful imagery amongst its audience.

In one of the scenes, a wig is central in the character’s power play and informs his decision in a desirable mate but also confuses him as it is passed around.

Certain scenes leave one feeling like “I’ve been there” particularly those who wake up at “11 0’clock” to start out a night of non stop partying and one night stands with someone you've just met and will never see again. Finding yourself so intoxicated that movement becomes mission impossible and you are reduced to the same weight and value as the pieces of rubbish that are blown away by the slightest tingle of wind.

If, like me, you pride yourself in informing the public about everything that affects them by staying up late writing an article you feel is relevant, the piece questions your success in that endeavour.

I was surprised to see myself in the dancer who grabbed the discarded paper to cover up someone’s battle. The same person who had picked up the copy of my newspaper to search for an answer to the disease that torments them when no one else is watching.

Watching 30 minutes of the hour long show, I was left gasping for air, confused at some point and feeling chastised at others.

Contrary to popular belief, there are many lessons still to be learnt about HIV. Deep Night taught me one of them.

In the hustle and bustle of the nightlife when the newspapers are now just more garbage, when the loud music hides secrets people desperately want to share and someone’s daughter stands on the corner to invite those filing into the club to take another piece of her dignity; where is everyone else?

Are they even thinking about what could be going on Deep in the Night? Are they thinking about what they have done or refused to do to let it happen to yet another person?