I think that the most powerful thing in the world – is to be seen. That is absolutely life-changing. Connection. When I watched the Life and Times of Michael K; it had been absolutely unplanned. I had no idea what to expect whatsoever.

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When I told Vusi this he was like, “Just expect greatness, expect to be blown out of this world”

And that I was, quite literally and metaphorically. The 2 hour-long play featuring South African theatre’s most sharpened did to me what I hope most people feel and experience at least once in their lifetime – moved. The play’s subject matter touches on various topics including; politics, discrimination and freedom among others.

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Will you judge me if I told you I cannot narrate the story back to you? That I can’t really say, “Hey, this is what the story is actually about…”. But I was still extremely moved, touched and transformed by the artistic direction and intention by Lara Foot and the Handspring Puppet Company. 

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Billy Langa opens the show with a rare combination of grace and electric energy — it’s captivating from the very first moment. I knew instantly: this is exactly what I needed to witness in this transitional season of my life. I have just quit my job at Untitled Basement as Social Media Manager and it wasn’t an easy decision to make. I have been feeling I want to elevate creatively, energetically and challenge myself more. I’ve always been a multi-passionate and feel like I have abandoned some parts of myself in working on other projects. So that was that.

 

What I experienced with Lara Foot’s direction of The Life and Times of Michael K is what I can only describe as what happens when someone truly sees you. They see your greatness, your ability, and they assign you a role that would not have made sense for anyone else. Your role. I found that so intimate. So beautiful. To be honoured in that way — to have someone say, you are remarkable, and for you to believe it, to grow into it, to reach it. That’s how it felt watching this ensemble too. This includes the lighting designer, the set designer, Kyle Shephard on that music and the film designer.

 

Ensemble work is generally tough — so many voices, so many moving parts. But here, they carried each other. They made space for one another to shine. I cannot say enough how deeply beautiful it is to be seen like that. To be acknowledged so intricately, with all your layers. To share that greatness.

 

The ensemble is made up of my former Drama lecturer at Rhodes University, Andrew Buckland, the phenomenal Faniswa Yisa, Sandra Prinsloo, and the puppet master Craig Leo — with Roshina Ratnam absolutely taking me aback with her voice acting and puppet work. There’s also the talented Carlo Daniels, Markus Schabbing, and Nolufefe Ntshuntshe.

 

There’s this moment — when Michael K is told his mother has passed.
The most beautiful, raw, and real depiction of grief. Through puppetry.
That was the scene that broke me open. I also have to say — these are not just puppeteers. They are actors, voice artists, and some of the finest creatives working in South African theatre.

It made me miss performing. Doing what I love. That level of energy — sustained through a 2 hour play — makes you wonder about the amount of fitness, dedication, and love poured in behind the scenes.

 

The way the ensemble moved — and moved the puppets — showed a deep understanding. A knowing. An unspoken choreography that goes beyond performance. It reminded me that we do not walk alone.
 

We are carried.
By people we see and those we don’t.

That’s what this piece touched in me. That we are a composition of every person who ever saw us, lifted us, moved with us.

I remember thinking — if ever my story is told on stage, let it be told like this. By this kind of ensemble.

 

Aaliyah said this after the show, “This is what magic you can create with a budget.”
And that’s the truth. They used puppetry, digital elements — tapped into so many realms. So many textures. It felt like the story now lives across dimensions. And we experienced that. The fullness, the roundness, the breath of it.

 

At times, the actors would step out of the puppet characters — and Carlo Daniels gave us Michael K live, full-bodied, grounded in real time.

 

Look — this review was never meant to tell you what the story is about.
 

It was meant to share the magic that South African theatre is.
The standard is high. The talent is deep. We can do remarkable things with a budget — but even more so with performers who surrender completely to the craft, to the story, to Michael K.

 

I want to give myself to something like that.
I haven’t found it yet.
Maybe... maybe it’s just myself.