HIFA Theatre Signs off with Miller’s I Have Sinned (2012).

By

Samuel Ravengai

Peace Mukwara, the director of I have Sinned

Of course Arthur Miller never wrote a play with the same title. I Have Sinned was penned by Zimbabwean young and upcoming playwright, Patrick Miller, who is currently a BA theatre arts honours second year student at the University of Zimbabwe. Its last performance at HIFA 2012 kicked off at 1540 on Sunday 6 May at the Standard Theatre and ended an hour later to a thunderous applause from the audience. I Have Sinned was directed by Peace Mukwara, who has just rejoined the University of Zimbabwe Theatre Arts Department as a masters student. It was not by accident that the director chose performers whom he had previous interface with. He cast Tatenda Mangosho, his ex-classmate, as William and Chiedza Chinhanu, a fellow student at the UZ, as Natasha.

The story centres on an as yet undisclosed source of distress in the family. William is mourning and in depression, in what used to be RJ’s bedroom, comprising a single bed with white bedding, a single cabinet and chair. When the lights illuminate this first acting area, they reveal a young man, William, with long Afro hair mourning and sulking after his cousin RJ commits suicide in suspicious circumstances. Family members, his father Neil, his mother, Lear, and his sister, Natasha, come to persuade him to let go of the past and move on with his life through much prayer and counselling. This is not helpful at all since William would like to get to the bottom of things to find out the reasons for RJ’s debt and his suicide. William digs through heaps of paper and discovers that his late cousin RJ had received a loan of $16,000 which he is unable to link to any source.

Patrick Miller, the playwright of I have Sinned

The playwright, Patrick Miller, is successful in creating suspense in the sense that he does not disclose the information, but only reveals what is vital to move the story forward. When the lights fade from the first acting area, another set of light hits the second acting area comprising a floral couch covered with a coffee velvet cloth, a pine coffee table and a chair. This is the family living room. Here family members argue over the best way to help William out of this depression. Neil, who is also a pastor of the local church, challenges his wife Lear to reveal where she was getting the money to sponsor the late RJ. Lear does not want to reveal this information as she was stealing the money from church coffers where both of them were pastors. Lear’s position is that she was paying RJ to keep quiet about what we get to learn later that Neil sexually molested him. Mark, the church congregant, is the only sober person in the family. As a family friend and loyal member of the church he is steadfast about the importance of prayer to help William deal with his depression. The only dark spot in Mark’s life is that he knows Lear was paying RJ, but couldn’t reveal this piece of information to William, except when William proves that Lear has revealed it to him. All this information is revealed by the playwright in bits and pieces keeping the audience on the edge of their seats.

The only problem with the story is that it does not move away from the folkloric and religious tendency to moralise at the end of the story. Most Zimbabwean plays of the 1970s and 1980s, especially those written in African languages, end with a characteristic didactic ending. Our modern audiences require making their own choices and don’t want to be given a readymade solution that is moral and didactic.

The director had a logical understanding of space. Although there was an open space between William’s room and the family living room, the director created non-diegetic space where the performers walked through the imagined corridor and obeyed its conventions throughout the performance. The depth, breadth and length of the house were made clear through movement which respected established boundaries.

Although the director clearly understood the importance of tempo and rhythm to his production, he concentrated on acoustic rhythm and paid less attention on visual rhythm. There was a clear sense of blocking revealing motivated movements, but everybody moved slowly like they were dragging weights on their feet. This slow movement was consistent to every performer and gave the performance a dull visual rhythm. Still on the same subject, some beats were far too long and did not require the time that they were accorded since they did not add anything to the story. The ending of the performance, for example, has family members praying and speaking in tongues. This needed cutting and tightening to give the performance pace.

Acting was believable and psychological. Performers worked on elocution and did not depend on microphones like the previous production of Bonnie and Clyde from Manchester, United Kingdom in the same intimate theatre. Perhaps Africans have a natural ability to project their voices without the aid of technology. Charles Matare came across as a seasoned performer. He had depth and handled the part of Neil convincingly. Matare comes from the community theatre tradition of the early 90s and that experience came to his aid in handling the part he played. Lear, Neil’s wife, was played by Sarah Masike whose acting career began with training at Reps Theatre. Her most convincing performance was when she played the seduction of Mark, played by Derek Nzinyakwi, who received his training from Theory X, an offshoot of Over The Edge Theatre Company. Derek was equal to the task of playing ‘holy’ against the most appetising temptation. He played stiff when aroused by Lear, but at the same time remained sensitive to the feelings of his lady pastor to protect her from embarrassment. While William played his depression convincingly, the director allowed him to play on two notes – high and low. In that regard, he was not able to play the various permutations of depression that his role demanded. This could have been his failure to clearly delineate the various beats in his speeches or the director did not point to the problem early enough in the process. Chiedza Chinhanu played the minor character, Natasha, and did it just good enough. Perhaps, in future she needs a more challenging role.

While all other areas of performance could pass on any stage in the world, the area of relationships needed more attention and was the least successful. The audience stretched their imaginations too far to accept the director’s proposals. The cast needed to analyse these relationships and find ways of playing them visually.

Despite this setback, this show was well produced and the audience got value for their money. I had the opportunity of reading some of the comments in the feedback journal and found that most audience members enjoyed the show. The British Council should continue to support such new works.

Zimbabwean Theatre and Censorship: Views from Walter Muparutsa

By Samuel Ravengai

Walter Muparutsa was a fierce defender of freedom of expression. He did not only talk about it, but demonstrated it in action by directing plays which tackled tabooed subjects. He engaged with authorities and state security agents to convince them that they were not following the law by denying citizens the right to express themselves. I interviewed Walter Muparutsa on the 10^th of April 2008 about the subject of censorship and freedom of expression and this is what he said:

Walter Muparutsa (WP):        It came to a point where a lot of the artists were not allowed to voice their concerns. But the audience who went to see their performances was empowered. So Jonathan Moyo and all the people in government know how to exploit the arts for it to be consumed by the electorate. The electorate (rural) is less informed because there is no information in the country. The government holds back information from the electorate. So Jonathan Moyo being minister of information takes advantage of that situation by exploiting the arts using galas and performances to promote the land reform programme and the establishment.

Samuel Ravengai (SR) :           Now, you were talking about the issue of organizations that inject money into theatre groups in order to further their agendas. Did you say it was a problem?

WM:    It’s just like the government. The government is an organization. It brings money to the artists but with a hidden agenda and they abuse the artists. If an NGO or any other organization has got agendas they will bring an idea like HIV/AIDS. Those are given terms of reference. They have been commissioned. You are given guidelines. This is how you perform the thing.  Of course, you use a bit of creativity; in fact with the right person, the writer and then the person who is got to direct and the artists who are going to act the play you can come up with a good product. However, because that organization is not a straight forward thing, they want an instructional thing which causes people to take a certain line of thinking. In most cases this causes problems. For example the donor may come up with the idea that HIV/AIDS on its own does not kill.

SR:       But in a democracy isn’t it allowed to do that?

WM:    What I’m saying is this, the artist is to blame. Generally the artists using their creativity should not do that, if they don’t want to be compromised in their creativity. If you say it’s democratic, okay it’s democratic but the thing is this, in order to make an informed decision, you ought to be really grounded in whatever things you’re doing.  A lot of the artists have been used at galas for propaganda by Jonathan Moyo. Those guys were out there just to get bread and butter. It was to go and get money. They didn’t think about the effects of their messages to the population. For them it was simply doing things blindly and so forth. But then the thing is, at the same time, the artists can turn around and say it’s my democratic right, I can do what I like. This is why you find a person like Andy Brown; he’s one of the most prolific musicians in this country. His whole career collapsed. If he was forced, then it’s something else, but if he did it through his own free will, I don’t know; we have somebody whom I think is an intelligent person.

SR:       Let’s come back to the issue of What They Said What They Got. I believe you took part in it together with Raisedon Baya. But when you put that kind of creativity you find yourself having problems with the authorities.

WM:    This is a case like the HIV/AIDS commissioned play. You’re trying to tell the nation that there is a thing called freedom to access information. The people of Zimbabwe have a government which controls information. They are draconian laws to control the flow of information. We are saying how can people be informed? How can they best make informed decisions and choices in a situation where there is only one paper you can read. Other papers are banned. That play highlights the way police actually administer AIPPA and POSA. You can actually see that it was wrong.

SR:       Why do you say that?

WM:    It’s wrong in the sense that they are denying people the right to information. Your constitution clearly says that but look, this is where the problem is. This country got into problems because there was no opposition in parliament. To oppose was considered unpatriotic. The fact of the matter is Zimbabwe became a de facto one party state. Now we are saying that because it’s a one party state, you’re forcing people to agree to things that they don’t want.  If you want to be honest, would you say in parliament the bills introduced were exhaustively debated before they became law? No! Ravengai!  If you went there one day to listen to the debate to any piece of legislation you’ll feel very angry. Because, in fact, the whole thing is a comedy. It’s a farce. They were not serious. And for over all these years, they were never able to be serious because they always destroyed the opposition.  If you say anything contrary to ZANU PF you’re an enemy of the state, you’re a reactionary. You cannot even get to discuss or debate anything here? Now the thing is this; how can you even, in terms of the laws they enact get to say the laws are fair.

SR:       Now, let’s talk about What they Said What They Got.  Now, in Harare were you given space to do this play?

WM:    Right. What happened is this, with What they Say What They Got Global Arts was given six provinces to operate in. Rooftop promotions were in Harare Province, Mash East, West and Central. Global Arts had Manicaland, Masvingo, Midlands, Matabeleland North, Mat South and Bulawayo metropolitan province. So here in Harare when What they Said What They Got was being done at Theatre in the Park, it was very dangerous because every night state security agents came to watch it. Their presence destroyed debate to a point where you always felt that it inhibited free discussion. Now this is the problem throughout Zimbabwe. You cannot fully freely express yourself, your own opinion, because if you said something that’s contrary to the ruling party or the government you are an enemy of the state. At certain times I have been told mudhara (old man) what you are saying will get you hurt. You ask them ‘who doesn’t allow it? Who has got the right to tell me that it’s not allowed?’ Then somebody says ‘we know you think that you are safe, but one day things will be difficult for you’. Now, how can you, a citizen of this country live in fear? So What They Said What they Got, to be very honest with you, was something that was sort of an affront to the establishment. We have got a situation where we are saying free the airwaves so that people can have the freedom to receive information from all sides. You have even a situation of the Censorship Board which is restrictive.

SR:       Did this play go to the Censorship Board?

WM:    To be very honest with you, I’m not quite sure. When Rooftop Promotion first did the play, I don’t know whether it sent the copy there. Because for me the version that I did was the revised version which we even had to discuss with the actors at the workshop. The first one which Rooftop did, which I managed to tour with got myself into all sorts of problems. I don’t think it went to the Censorship Board. 

SR:       Normally the government gives theatre some kind of space at Theatre in the Park, but once you take the production outside Harare you create problems. How was it like in Bulawayo?

WM:    In Bulawayo Metropolitan province it was fine, no problem as long as it doesn’t go to Amakhosi. Anything that is associated with Amakhosi you got a problem, because Amakhosi has been stigmatised as anti-government. What actually happened was this, when I first went to stage this play at Amakhosi. The police came and I was in the same place. They came and they didn’t consult me. After the staging of the play the discussions didn’t quite happen as normal.

SR:       Did you perform the play in the townships of Bulawayo?

WP:      I had problems when I went into the townships. There had been an incident in town. The people in Bulawayo don’t like ZINWA. The Bulawayo municipality is predominantly controlled by the opposition. Now, ZINWA came there to try to force this down their throats and there were running battles in town. In the meantime I wanted to stage a play at Stanley Hall. Then that’s when I had problems because the details came there, they stopped the play. The audience was already in. 

SR:       Really? Tell me exactly what happened at Stanley Hall.

WM:    Stanley Hall. Posters were put there. They came in, and once they were inside, just about two to three minutes before the play started, because at the same time as the people were getting in, we also had to give them literature on the state of information gathering and dissemination in the country, a published thing which has not been banned. So these people came, the police details and this person (police officer) is very very well known in Bulawayo. And they say he actually shoots people. Zenzo and Mark knew him for that. He came in. He says to me, ‘what is this that you are trying to do?’ Then I said ‘this is my work. I’m not trying to do anything. I’m staging a play’. So he says ‘have you got clearance to stage a play because under POSA you must have one from National Arts Council’. Of course National Arts Council knew that there‘s a play from the Censorship Board. You get clearance from the Censorship Board. However, even if the Censorship Board gives you a performing certificate, the police can still come and stop the play because they say the regulatory authority at that particular area can stop the play. So they said that, ‘under POSA you can’t do this’. But I know that plays are not mentioned under POSA so I went there. They said, ‘no, no, get these people out of this place’. I refused and I said ‘I’m not getting them out. I’ll leave them here’. They said ‘come to the police station’ and I said ‘let’s go’.  The police said ‘move’ and I said ‘no no I’m driving, get in the car’. So I drove them to the police station. We got there and they went in to tell their seniors. They left me outside and they later called me inside.

WM:    Ya!  So he says ‘what are you trying to do?’  I said, ‘I’m not trying to do. That’s my work. I’m staging a play’. They said you don’t have clearance under POSA to do a play. I told them that it was not a requirement under POSA just like churches and so on. Here it is in the law. I actually read that. Now the particular officer didn’t know anything about Censorship Board. He didn’t ask about Censorship Board. It was just POSA. He told me that I could not do that play and asked me ‘why are you giving out the books to people to read?’ I said, ‘is there a law prohibiting people from reading material? Look, anything that’s published, that if you go to a library you can read it, can be circulated in the country. If this was something that was anti-establishment they would have stopped it. So you don’t ask me’. They said ‘where do you come from?’ and I said ‘friend I think what you are doing now is harassment. I am doing my work and why are you stopping me from doing my work. Under the constitution I’ve got a right to do my work’. He said, ‘let me tell you this, you cannot stage this play without clearance from the regulatory authorities. So you get it. You stop what you are doing. You go chase those people away from the hall’. I said, ‘I’m not going to chase them because in the first place I am the one who invited them there. I can’t go there and chase them.  You can go and chase them’. They retorted, ‘if you are going to do this play, we are certainly going to arrest you. It was at that point when I told him that ‘what you are doing is exactly what Smith was doing’.

SR:       Just like that?

WM:    Yah.  I asked him if he knew where the name Luveve came from and he said he didn’t know. Now it’s called Luveve Secondary School. It was a technical college. We stopped it during the 60s. We did several riots because there was a bad system governing the country and that thing is now a secondary school. If what he had done was done during the ZAPU organised riots there could have been an ugly incident. You don’t provoke people. I want to tell you something. I’m a nationalist, for your own information. What you are doing is very wrong, this is wrong. This is not what the people went to fight for. You’ve gone back to the Smith days. This is wrong. They said, ‘anyway, I have heard what you are saying. Go and stop the thing’. I said ‘then tell your boys to go stop the thing because I’m not going to stop it. So the officers were called inside and were told ‘this man is called Walter Muparutsa’. I told them that I had another show which I was supposed to do before returning to Harare. They said ‘all the shows which you are going to do here in Bulawayo, as long as they are not cleared by the regulatory authorities (officer commanding Bulawayo Province) you are not going to do any show’. So all the subsequent shows were stopped. Then I thought to myself, if they allowed me to do a show at Amakhosi, I should go back and do another show at Amakhosi. But there was real trouble there. MMPZ then said ‘no Muparutsa you can’t do it because these people are really out to get you. There’s trouble there. Riot police will come’.

SR:       Did you stop when the Media Monitoring Project asked you to?

WM:    I couldn’t. Because even the officers from MMPZ, Media Monitoring Project of Zimbabwe, they were in Bulawayo at that time. And when I was actually at the police station, they phoned me asking if I needed legal assistance. I said no, I didn’t commit a crime I don’t need legal assistance. I’m talking to these people who don’t understand my work. And I was saying this openly while they were within hearing range.

SR:       Now let’s go back to you as theatre consultant for HIFA. Did you any problems with plays that you had earmarked for HIFA from the authorities?

WM:    Look I worked for the Rhodesia Literature Bureau. First of all, I worked for Smith’s government in the information department. Within the information department we worked as reader translators, when you more or less translated the policy statements. And then from there I was moved to the Ministry of Education. Then at that time the Southern Rhodesia Africa Youth Tribunal was formed. We were the first people to work there because these people wanted to separate black development, in those times. They said you Africans should write in your own languages and develop them. We were not encouraged to write in English. So the Literature Bureau was actually there to encourage African authorship. So for most of the playwrights one would write those things translating chapter by chapter which we sent to the white officer who read these things. If a foreman beat up a white person the policy stipulated that a white person could not be beaten by a black person and we were asked to change it. We laughed about it.  People don’t know that I’m coming from a long history of struggle between governments and the arts. So with all this experience with governments right from Smith to Mugabe there are ways of avoiding these people sometimes. You take a script to the authorities and they tell you to remove this chapter and that or the whole four pages of a script. To beat the system you take out the controversial parts and send it to the authorities. Those people are very old so they read the doctored version. Some of them are very good friends of mine.

SR:       Is that what you did with Heaven’s Diary?

WM:    Yes! I removed certain pages and then sent it. I went back to the actors and told them, act the play as it is. Then it went.

SR:       Was it HIFA 2005?

WM:    2005 I think 2005 yah!

SR:       Tell me more about Vagina Monologues.

WM:    Vagina Monologues had lots of problems. They said it would not be done. It was the title that shocked a very conservative establishment. But biologically, every man who is on earth came through that opening but people are ashamed of talking about it, or even mention it. It becomes a problem to those people. But it’s really … look when God created human beings, there was nothing to be ashamed of.

SR:       Did it go to the Board of Censors?

WM:    Yes and they said remove this and that part and I complied. Then I took it the performing company and told them to act according to the original version.

SR:       Now I heard there was some kind of trouble with the church. What was the trouble about? Isn’t it true that the play was staged at the Dutch Reformed Church or Standard Theatre?

WM:    The Reformed Church is also one of those very conservative institutions. So I mean they were not quite happy about it but it was staged. And yet that was the only play that had three performances full houses because of the title. But not that the play was fantastic or anything. No it was just an ordinary play.

SR:       Now, let’s go back to the issue of National Arts Council which you said controls theatre.

WM:    Yah, we once did a play called Padare/Ekundleni when I was still working with Davis Guzha at Rooftop Promotions. It was quite a big play. We had 50 actors, five from each province. So with the ten provinces, it was 50. When we opened, we invited National Arts officials. They came. We even had the National Arts’ logo on our banners, poster, the lot, everything.

SR:       How long ago was that?

WM:    2002. I remember I left Rooftop 2002. So that’s the time Jonathan Moyo was on the scene. National Arts Council was invited. They were our partners in the play which was national. It was all about the essence and the importance of having debating platforms. Now the whole issue of debating platforms in a democratic state, even before the whites came was there. It was a wonderful platform where everybody was given a chance to voice their concerns at the tribal council. Now the thing is Padare/Ekundleni had problems. When Jonathan Moyo heard about it he wasn’t happy. This whole play was written by Cont Mhlanga. It was a commissioned play but the idea in essence came from Rooftop Promotions and Cont was commissioned to write the project. Later on the officials from National Arts Council came. They blessed the opening and so on. During part of the day, the NACZ officials received a letter from the information ministry telling them to completely disassociate themselves from that play. We don’t even want you to be part and parcel of that play. Chipangura ran away. We then had to engage Chipangura in a very serious discussion. And then of course being much older than Daves I could see that Chipangura was behaving like a civil servant. And the thing is that it became dangerous. It was very very dangerous, because 2002 was volatile politically. That was the time Padare had to give actors survival tactics where they would stage the play. But it was dangerous. One of my actors from Chinhoyi was severely assaulted in Chinhoyi.

SR:       What had happened?

WM:    Each province had five actors who went round the province.

SR:       Like What they Said What they Got?

WM: NO! What They Said What They Got was not as intensive as Padare. Padare was intensive. And we staged it at the most dangerous time which was actually a mistake. You shouldn’t do things like that, it’s better that you get time to go and … because some of these plays they are more of civic education plays than anything.

SR:       Now, apart from Chipangura disassociating himself from this play how did other stakeholders respond?

WM:    Ha! We were actually playing cat and mouse game with the police throughout the whole production. We had to go to Mutare. The group in Mutare was stopped and then they were told that they should produce their director and producer. So I went there with Daves Guzha to Mutare. It was very dramatic. We got there and then there was this PISI

SR: Ya I know these guys Police Internal Security Intelligence (PISI)

WM:    We told the officer that we were from Rooftop Promotion. He asked us what our core business was and we told him that he had invited us. He said our play was not right and I asked him if he had seen the play. He said he hadn’t seen the play but a friend of his from Chinhoyi had phoned them to say there’s a play which encourages people not to send their grain to GMB. We told him to go and see the play first before wasting our time. He asked why we were doing plays that criticised the government and I asked him again if he had seen the play. I reminded him that I came from Mutare and that I was a very responsible person.  ‘I don’t go around causing problems like a thug. No! My job of doing plays is an honourable job as far as I’m concerned. Since you have got contrary views, I’m saying go and watch the play. Tonight it will be at Africa University. Then you can call us back’. He declined and told us that artists always want to cause problems. 

SR:       So how did it end?

WM:    We told him to go and watch the play.

SR:       Did he go and watch?

WM:    I don’t know if he went. But these people just carried on. Wherever they were refused permission to perform they would stop and go to the next place because we had a lot of venues dotted throughout the whole country. Well what they did was you know, you get to a centre, you drum and you sing as actors. People come.

SR:       Now, do you still have the statistics of how many performances were stopped?

WM:    Ha No! We we, we managed I’d say it was almost like a 98% performance. 2% stopped. But then you see it was all like guerrilla warfare.  How do you train actors to survive in a hostile environment?

SR:       On that note Walter, thanks. That was nice.

The Role of the Media in Developing Theatre in Zimbabwe

(Paper presented at the World Theatre Day on the 26^th of March 2012, Alliance Française Harare)

Samuel Ravengai

University of Zimbabwe

Theatre Arts Department

Abstract

There is something incomplete about theatre when it has been written, rehearsed and performed to the public until evidence of its enunciation has been recorded and extended to the reading public through the media. Much of what we know today about the history and development of Zimbabwean theatre is derived from media archives. The theatre critic and/ or reviewer is, in essence, writing for today’s theatre audience and the future theatre historian. The theatre critic is, however, in a dilemma when executing this important role; s/he is under pressure from various interested parties who all want to be satisfied. The theatre critic is surrounded by artists insatiable by the richest and most frequent doses of praise, theatrical managers greedy for advertisement, theatre novices without reputations who want to beg or buy them readymade, entertainment editors who demand that theatre criticism be newsworthy and news readers who want to be objectively informed about which shows to attend and which ones to avoid. Between these the theatre critic makes his/her own choice of priorities. However, the function of criticism is to dissect and analyse the work in both its contemporary and historical context writing advertising jingles for artistic perfection and discouraging bad tendencies. I would argue that there are new tendencies in theatre criticism that are emerging where theatre reviewers are drifting more and more away from works and focusing on personalities, opinions, press statements and features. If the critic’s role is to help shape the future of theatre and to enlarge the knowledge of theatre and its techniques how can that role be exercised where the focus is on gossip rather than theatre itself?

Sampling

In arriving at this conclusion I sampled 45 newspaper articles which appeared in The Herald, The Sunday Mail, The Chronicle and UZ news letter between 1984 and 1988. Of the 45 theatre articles, 19 were features and reports of what happened or what was to come in the theatre. 26 articles were reviews based on theatre works that were performed during the period representing a commendable 58 percent. During this period emphasis by arts media practitioners was on the works themselves and less on reports and features. However, after the end of the first twenty years focus on works declined and shifted to features and reports. I sampled 35 newspaper articles written between 4 March 2001 and 10 July 2002 which appeared in The Daily News, The Sunday Mail, The Sunday Mail, The Standard, The Financial Gazette and The Mirror. Only 10 articles reviewed works that were performed representing 28 percent. The rest were features, gossip and reports on theatre personalities. There was almost a 30 percent decline in theatre criticism which also invariably coincided with the decline of theatre especially as compared with the first 16 years after independence. I deliberately avoided the current period for fear that I might ruffle the feathers of some of you and unintentionally declare a war with the media, which we know no one can win. It is safe to stay in the past and predict future trends. In revealing these statistics I am not suggesting that features and speculative reports are less important. They are indeed important and should be pursued vigorously but only as long we prioritize the criticism of theatre works when they have taken place. We have a responsibility to the theatre.

Theatre historiography in Zimbabwe has been depending on the media for a very long time. Theatre historians like Charles Taylor were able to argue that there was no theatre in Zimbabwe before English colonization because African documentation traditions did not rely on the written word. From 1890, the White Rhodesian press ignored African performance traditions even though Africans performed a lot of drama and theatre during the colonial period. The little that we know about African performances was captured by brave missionaries who reported works at their stations and magazines that were aimed at African readership. Even after independence the press continued to favour white theatre productions and ignoring works by community theatre groups. This imbalance only ended around 1991when the power of the National Theatre Organization (NTO) was neutralized by Zimbabwe Association of Community Theatre (ZACT) and the new emerging African voices in the media. Thus one finds that the only four books on Zimbabwe theatre covering the period 1980 – 1996 such as Plastow (1996) Rohmer (1999) Byam (1999) and Zinyemba (1986) rely on journalistic reports of Zimbabwean theatre now archived in Chifunyise and Kavanagh’s Zimbabwe Theatre Report (1988). The archives used by the various authors were rich with information on theatre productions representing a fair 58 percent. With the decline on theatre criticism, can the same success story be repeated by future theatre historians wanting to cover theatre productions that occurred during the crisis period (1997 – 2008)?

When a production has ended its living materiality dissolves and disappears. It can only be accessed through the quality of traces that it has left. The nation depends on the media to access theatre productions in the here and now as well as in the future. While other traces are mostly individual and private such as photographs, video recordings and the body texts of performers, the media is the only public forum and repository where theatre records can be accessed for informing the nation and guiding future productions. The media carries a huge responsibility to shape the future of theatre and to enlarge its knowledge.

The theatre critic shapes the future of theatre by writing advertising jingles for the audiences and potential publishers as well as discouraging bad tendencies amongst playwrights, directors, designers and performers. In other words a theatre notice just like any news item should answer the who, where, what and when questions and deliver a verdict on what has been reviewed as succinctly put across by Irving Wardle:

There is, however, no separating criticism from judgement, even if it is only implied. Why bother to analyse or interpret a work unless it stimulates your admiration or antagonism? (1992: 33).

Yet we find that in our generation we are afraid of value judgements and consider ourselves godly when we don’t judge. How then can we grow theatre without pursuing certain ideals for perfection? The passion for artistic perfection should rage in every theatre critic. George Bernard Shaw is unambiguous about the notion of perfection.

Let all young artists look to it (perfection), and pay no heed to the idiots who declare that criticism should be free from personal feeling. The true critic, I repeat, is the man who becomes your personal enemy on this provocation of a bad performance, and will only be appeased by good performances (cited in Bobker 1977: 228)

When reviewing Zimbabwean theatre criticism one finds that theatre reviews of the 1984-1988 period were laden with value judgements associated with two competing aesthetic discourses – western illusionistic theatre favoured by the NTO affiliated critics and socialist realist aesthetic favoured by ZACT affiliated critics. However, when we shift to the later period (early 2000s) theatre reporting is full of speculative data and sometimes no value judgements. Does it imply that beyond 1990, Zimbabwe had reached a stage of artistic perfection? By no means!

The whole notion of artistic standards should be problematised. Standards are always assumed that they exist and theatre makers appeal to them when it serves their purpose. Theatre critics enjoy the status of aesthetic commissars and tend to whip practitioners into submission. But we have to be careful here in the sense that Africans carry a double heritage – the inherited western realist aesthetic and the indigenous cultural text. There is considerable debate amongst scholars as to which aesthetic should be enforced in Africa. The African purists (wa Thiong’o 1981, wa Mirii 1988, Chinweizu et al 1980) advocate for a common African aesthetic and urge African critics to encourage an awareness of African tradition and play the role of critical intelligence guiding the transmission of African cultural values. This school of thought was active in Zimbabwe just after independence. Eurocentrists such as Dennis Granger (1984) demanded that African theatre making emulate the western illusionistic theatre tradition. This coterie was also active in Zimbabwe in the early 1980s and still influences our perceptions of theatre today. There is a third coterie represented by Cont Mhlanga, Dambudzo Marechera and Andrew Whaley which advocates for an intercultural theatre aesthetic. There are many advantages and limitations in pursuing any of the above aesthetics and it would be cumbersome to discuss them in such a short paper. What I need to emphasise is that aesthetics do not live forever. They come and go. Raymond Williams (1973, 1977) argues that in every period there is the dominant, the residual and the emergent cultural traditions. Western theatre that was dominant in the early 1980s in Zimbabwe is now residual while what was emergent theatre during the same period such as the theatre of Marechera, Mhlanga and Whaley is currently the dominant theatre tradition. The biggest media disservice to theatre would be failure to recognise the fresh structure of feeling and attack new works on the basis of old and fading aesthetics. Beethoven was once thought of as mad but became a western music icon. Dambudzo Marechera was once thought of as private, individualistic, anti-nationalistic and anti establishment, but is now the model for many writers. The theatre critic’s political stand, theoretical and ideological leaning, cultural context and various other variables will affect his/her verdict and the tone s/he adopts towards a theatre production. Today, we find that we are of Africa and have emerged from a demeaning history. The choices we make when passing judgement should, therefore, not worship aesthetics which yesterday belittled our artistic achievements. Our criticism should be committed to develop an aesthetic which celebrates both our Africanness and what we choose to appropriate from our colonial heritage.

One may question how well do our Zimbabwean theatre critics carry out these functions? Because some of our theatre critics have not specialised in theatre in their training the easiest thing to do is to fill up columns with dates where the show would take place, quotations of interviews with the director, playwright and producer, promotion of certain performers who would feature in the show and seldom any reasonable analysis of the theatre production itself. Even if theatre critics attend productions, they seldom want to comment on the production for fear of being caught and exposed. If there is any reference to a production the reviews are full of admiration which, in most cases, is a sign that the critic has adopted a subordinate role as the director would have done something beyond the critic leaving him in respectful paralysis.

A typical theatre review that would be useful to today’s theatre lovers and tomorrow’s theatre historian is the one that explores the themes and ideas of the playwright and situating the work within the Zimbabwean and African performance tradition. Furthermore, the review should have thick description of the production evaluating key technical elements such as the quality of writing, performance, elocution, costume, set and lighting. In this regard, the critic should critique the craft for the purpose of developing talent and pruning unworkable choices. Moreover, the theatre critic should place the production into a larger context such as comparison of other works by the same theatre maker and see the connections between them. When this exercise is done well it helps to educate the taste of the African audience and to shape the future of Zimbabwean theatre.

However, I also know that newspapers have strict restrictions on space; descriptions, opinions and judgements may not all be accommodated in a 700 word article. There is, however, a way of writing a review that collapses these distinctions. Criticism can be composed of description and argument or argument through description and get to the point as quickly as possible. Given the foregoing functions and responsibilities of a theatre critic, it goes without saying that theatre criticism is not anybody’s job. If the critic has no prior training in theatre s/he needs to have a thorough knowledge of theatre through watching as many shows as possible and keeping a transcription of each production for future reference. The critic may need to keep reference books on playwriting; directing and acting to expand his/her knowledge of theatre. A blind person cannot lead another blind person. The critic also needs to have an understanding of other arts such as music, dance and mime which tend to be subsumed in much of Zimbabwean and African theatre and performance.

Conclusion

Zimbabwe is credited for having one of the best educated populace in the world, yet its creative industries do not reflect the wealth of knowledge that the country possesses. There is something inherently bad about the way we conduct business. I hope to have put the media under spotlight to illuminate the challenges it faces in growing our theatre industry. As this paper could only deal with the role of the media in the development of Zimbabwean theatre, I do not rule out a considerable number of variables outside the media that are negatively affecting the theatre industry. Those could be discussed in a separate paper perhaps in a different forum from this one. I thank you.

References

Bobker, Lee R., 1977. Elements of Film, 3^rd Edition. New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich

Byam, L Dale., 1999. Community in Motion: Theatre for Development in Africa. London: Bergin and Garvey

Chifunyise, Stephen and Kavanagh, Robert Mshengu., Eds.  1988.  Zimbabwe Theatre Report, No.1. Harare: University of Zimbabwe Publications.

Granger, Denis., 1984. Theatre Critic, Denis Granger Started if off (Sunday Mail, 14 September 1984) In: Chifunyise, Stephen and Kavanagh, Robert., Eds. 1988. Zimbabwe Theatre Report. Harare: University of Zimbabwe, p. 12.

Plastow, Jane., 1996. African Theatre and Politics: The Evolution of Theatre in Ethiopia, Tanzania and Zimbabwe – A Comparative Study. Amsterdam: Rodopi

Rohmer Martin. 1999. Theatre and Performance in Zimbabwe. Bayreuth: Bayreuth University Press

Wa Mirii, Ngugi., 1988. People’s Theatre. In: Chifunyise, Stephen and Kavanagh, Robert. Eds.  Zimbabwe Theatre Report. Harare: University of Zimbabwe Press, pp. 7-40.

Wa Thiong’o, Ngugi., 1981. Decolonising the Mind: The Politics of Language in African Literature. Harare: Zimbabwe Publishing House

Wardle, Irving., 1992. Theatre Criticism. London: Routledge

Williams, Raymond. 1977. Marxism and Literature. Oxford: Oxford University Press

Williams, Raymond. 1973. Drama from Ibsen to Brecht. London: Penguin

Two Zimbabwean Sitcoms: What Sitcom?

Samuel Ravengai

Sunday Mirror Review, 11 April 2004

Zimbabwe Television (ZTV) has so far produced two sitcoms – namely, Timmy na Bonzo and Chatsva.  In 2003, Susan Makore, the then Kidznet and Television Services head announced a new television season by emphasizing that a new sitcom Chatsva would be part of the new menu.  I waited with nudging anxiety to watch Chatsva as the previous so called sitcom Timmy na Bonzo, though sometimes funny, had failed to fit into a genre which it was being asked to belong.  When the new season opened, I followed all Chatsva episodes with keen interest until ZTV itself decided to take it off the air.  It was neither interesting nor did it belong to the situation comedy genre.  At the present moment (April 2004) ZTV is screening a sitcom called Waiters produced by Creative Native, the video production arm of Rooftop Promotions.  The question that comes to mind is:  What is there about a particular show that makes it fit into the situation comedy genre? I attempt to answer this question and provoke others as well. 

The answer to the first question motivates shocking revelations at Pockets Hill. In this Art Talk column, we have revealed time and again with concrete evidence, that some dramatic serials, which are being screened as soap operas, are in fact not soap operas.  When the visuals of Amakorokoza are pointing to something far removed from a soap opera, ZTV news anchors, reporters and presenters brand Amakorokoza a soap opera.  The same naming crisis comes to light with regards to Timmy na Bonzo and Chatsva.

Who at Pockets Hill allows and endorses those erroneous names to programmes that do not belong to such genres? The Productions Strategic Business Unit sanctions these dramatic programmes. Sources privy to the issue reliably inform me that executive producers of this SBU meet every morning to check the quality of programmes that will be aired on a given day. The drama unit executive producer Dorothy Chidzawo should voice those concerns to those who commission the programmes so as to protect her reputation. I believe that the commissioning team should be made up of people who are thoroughly grounded in television production. I understand Norbert Ferro, Emma Shamuyarira and until recently Noel Sibanda comprised the Commissioning Team. I have great respect for these individuals as artisans. However, I doubt their ability to read works of art and pass unquestionable judgments on them. It looks to me that they cannot distinguish chrome from mampara, gold from silver and lead from tin. All of these minerals, to them, are the same (metaphorically speaking). If a seller sells his silver as gold, they will buy it as gold without verification. Some mechanism has to be put in place that will ensure that mediocre programmes are cast in the recycle bin before they are beamed to the viewers.

And now to situation comedies. Because of the shortcomings of the commissioning team, such programmes as Timmy na Bonzo and Chatsva were named situation comedies. Lawrence Simbarashe and Marjory Mugoronji could have gotten away with it had their programmes been interesting as I suspect Amakorokoza will be. Timmy na Bonzo and Chatsva were a false start. The real start is Waiters. It should go in the history of broadcasting that the first Zimbabwean made sitcom was Waiters.



Jasen Mphepo played Marcelino in the sitcom Waiters



What is there about a particular show that makes it fit into the sitcom genre? In situation comedy a special funny thing happens to a special set of characters. As opposed to other dramatic genres, this special set of characters will appear at the same time during the coming week in another funny situation which will be entirely nondependent on what happened in the previous episode. One is tempted at this stage to ask; wasn’t Timmy na Bonzo like that? However, there is more to it than just this ‘funny thing’. Hansen (1991) defines situation comedy as “plot centred and involving setting up new and interesting situations into which familiar characters move”. Being ‘plot centred’ is where the real crux of the matter is. The plot of a sitcom falls into four basic parts: exposition (teaser), complication, confusion and more confusion, and finally alleviation of confusion. Both Timmy na Bonzo and Chatsva registered the first part in their stories but they seemed to end at that level without taking the story forward. In one episode of Chatsva, Mbanje falls hungry and conjures a plan to get a free meal from their workplace canteen by faking illness. The situation doesn’t take off from this level as the rest of the characters ritualistically follow the same trick crafted by Mbanje. There is no confusion that ensues leading the story to remain flat and hypnotically dull. What should ideally happen is that when the situation has been established, it is the one which precipitates the complication that follows. Take Marcelino of Waiters for instance. He goes back to Mozambique, but mistakenly locks Mariyawanda and Adam in the restaurant. What are they going to do with no help in sight? This is the complication. The complication leads to confusion. At least Adam has a cell phone, so he can phone to solicit for help. But before he phones, the handset drops down and breaks into pieces. Confusion. There is power failure. More confusion. The more thorough the confusion, the more the audience is let in on a joke that will backfire on the characters, the more comic the episode. Nothing is done out of malice. Everything happens by mistake or out of good faith. When confusion has reached its peak there is the alleviation of the confusion and everybody is happy. The balance of power returns back to its original position; as it was at the beginning of the show.

Timmy na Bonzo does not present a situation but a series of situations in one episode which are not given time to develop. Four or so situations cannot be fully developed in less than 24 minutes. However, as individual artistes, Tapfumaneyi, Lawrence and Arumenda have great potential. They have two options: either to look for a talented scriptwriter and director who will do what they cannot do better or revert back to their trade as standup comedians. We don’t have many of them in Zimbabwe and that is a grey area!

Like soap operas, the space of a sitcom is always internal. There is nothing of substance between houses and office blocks. Movement from one place to another is accomplished by means of fade-out or fade-in. It is only Waiters which passes this generic code. The other two programmes flirt around with all kinds of spaces. Chatsva would move to fuel stations while Timmy na Bonzo would go to grave yards, climb up trees, open spaces and so on. Waiters is, however, consistently internal as it should. The standard of living in these internal spaces is based on comfort and neatness. There is only shabbiness or disarray when called for by the script.

At the centre of the situation comedy are the characters. Sitcom characters are not fully developed, as the plot formula does not allow real psychological development. They are very predictable, as they will behave the way they have always done and will continue to do within their stylistically individual manners. They are not fully human, but humanoid. Though they have the appearance of humanity certain qualities are exaggerated to the point of grotesque. Take Marcelino for instance. His more stupid side is emphasised more than any other quality. Sally is garrulous, soft minded and very fastidious. This is what she will play for the entire life of the sitcom. While there is great potential for Timmy na Bonzo and Chatsva characters, they can only be more useful if all other generic features are present in the narrative.

Situation comedies have types, namely action comedy (actcom), domestic comedy (domcom), pseudo domestic comedy (pseudo-domcom). Waiters is more on the actcom side while Timmy na Bonzo and Chatsva are not firmly located in a specific genre.

Are so called Zimbabwean Soap Operas on Course or still Groping in the darkness?

Sunday Mirror, 7 March 2004

Samuel Ravengai

In 2002 the first Zimbabwean soap opera came on air. Thereafter, several others emerged and I got increasingly worried about the idea of a soap opera which, at that time, was not properly understood by most producers. I decided something needed to be done and wrote this article, parts of which appeared in the Sunday Mirror. I won myself a lot of enemies and friends. I guess that is the prize for impacting on lives. Here is what I wrote then:

 The 2003 new television season began with much fanfare as the then head of Radio and Television Services Ms Abigail Mvududu announced to the nation that a home grown soap opera Studio 263 was going to be part of the menu. Kabanana, from Zambia and Fragments by a Zimbabwean producer King Dube were to follow. I believe by now Cont Mhlanga and Sithokhozile Zulu are at an advanced production stage with their soap opera Makorokoza. However, the real crux of the matter is can everything which is a dramatic serial be given the tag of a soap opera? We saw the production and screening of Ziva Kwawakabva, Mavara Azare Ivhu, Inongova Njakenjake, Zim Life, Kwiyo Muzukuru, Nzungu Muriva 1 and 2; the list is endless. All these television dramas were dramatic serials; not to be confused with soap operas.

Let us look at the origins of soap opera and see how it evolved to become what it is today. Although the term soap opera was listed as a new word in 1945 in American Speech, there is overwhelming evidence that this word existed well before 1945. According to Allen (1985) it appeared in the American magazine Newsweek as early as 1939. In the literature of that period soap opera is referred to as a ‘daytime dramatic serial’. The term ‘dramatic’ is full of ambiguities as it seems to embrace other television dramatic genres. Soap Opera has got its origins in opera. The opera invented its own structures by borrowing from three European performance traditions, namely the church, pageants and the masque. From the tenth century medieval church, opera borrowed from morality plays, mystery plays and miracle plays which contain almost all its bare essentials- music, narrative, costume and scenery. From the pageants, certain elements from quasi-pagan festivals and royal weddings were adapted. A shining example from this performance tradition is the play The Pilgrim which formed part of the entertainment at the royal wedding of Ferdinando and Christine of Lorraine in 1589 in Florence. The play contained six dramatic musical interludes, which are a familiar feature in contemporary opera. From the masque, which is a type of courtly entertainment in 16^th century Europe, opera borrowed some of its elements like speeches, poetry, song, instrumental music, dance, games and revels. These features were borrowed, reinvented, restructured and reorganised to form a conventional system which is today called opera. The soap opera borrowed heavily from opera. Since radio is older than television, soap opera began on radio before it was taken over by television. The problem with defining a soap opera from a radio perspective is that the visual dimension is sidelined while the audio dimension is given prominence. The Dictionary of American Slang (1975) defines a soap opera as ‘a daily dramatic serial program broadcast by radio usually lasting fifteen minutes each day, concerning fictitious domestic crises and troubles and often characterised by little action’. This could be true to radio, but it certainly does not suffice for television. I have no problems in viewing Mopani Junction as a radio soap opera as it has all the attributes that a radio can possibly handle- a dramatic narrative, music, domestic crises, lack of closure etc. Television is an audio-visual medium and therefore a television soap opera definition has to take cognisance of this fact. From opera, television borrowed music, elaborate costume, elaborate set and of course heightened drama. However, these elements were not taken as they were. Television by its very nature creates its own version of the traditional popular arts by inventing a new structure which when used over a period of time becomes a formula. The soap opera has developed its own ways and techniques which it uses to shape, rearrange and repackage cultural products that were already in existence. These techniques jelly together to create the soap opera generic code which enables viewers to read a television product as a soap opera and not any other genre like a courtroom drama, western, horror movie, documentary, musical, science fiction, spoof, police and so on. There are conflations here and there. But how did the term “soap” come into being? Allen (1985) explains ‘the soap in soap opera derives from sponsorship of daytime serials by manufacturers of household cleaning products: Proctor and Gamble, Colgate-Palmolive and Lever Brothers’.

A soap opera is a serial narrative whose world is populated by mostly middle class characters. All over the world, this class of people is not the majority in the population demography. However, in the soap operas wherever they are produced in the world, the number of middle class characters is disproportionately high compared to their distribution in those societies. In the Daily Mirror of 14 January 2004, Talkmore Chikumbirike castigated Studio 263 ‘for abandoning the rural life, concentrating on an urban setting’. Other television genres can handle those rural characters and settings quite well. On this generic code Studio 263 is on course although the earliest episodes were off-track. Proportionately, the workplaces and residential areas depicted in soap operas are those associated with middle class occupations and leisure- corporate offices, restaurants, clubs, posh houses and cars, law firms and so on. The dressing code also complements the softness and class of the characters as outlined by Newcomb (1974): “For the most part the people are elegantly but tastefully groomed. The men dress conservatively even when casual. The women are carefully trimmed in stylish fashions, coiffed in the most fitting styles. The appearance is carried into their homes” Studio 263 seems to be doing well on this aspect. Mrs Huni is always dressed to kill so are all the girl characters and everybody else except Themba, Mr Jari and Tendai.

Another aspect related to characterisation is that soap opera characters exist independently of the actors and actresses who portray them. If for any reason an actor decides to leave the soapie, he is replaced by another unless of course the head writer decides to write the actor out of the cast. I understand Chikumbirike’s concern over Studio 263’s dragging when Stephen Chigorimbo decided to throw in the towel. Shannon McNicol was also not replaced leading the soapie changing direction. Studio 263 executive producer has to realise that a soap opera is very flexible as the audience will quickly adjust to any change of actor or actress. Incompetent actors and actresses can also be fired (and they are quite a number) if better ones are available. It is also permissible in a soap opera to resurrect dead characters. Mary, Manson’s girlfriend in Santa Barbra was raised from the dead many times. I must also add that the soap opera text must exist independently of associate writers or dialoguers as they are known in certain production houses. The script must not bear the mark of a certain writer. In Studio 263 there is a writer who is given to verbosity and overwriting. There is another or maybe they are quite a number who do not have the art of writing at all. They present lectures to the viewers and take them through boring routines. They forget that good intentions are not enough for the material must be interesting. The most interesting characters to watch are those who have a certain attraction towards each other yet they have the most conflict. There is another one who writes in a much better way and can be groomed.

A soap opera is also a serial narrative whose world is mostly set in the interior. It shares this generic code with a sitcom. As the viewers are allowed access to the soap opera community and as they enter house after house, their eyes are not allowed access to the outside world/space. There is nothing of substance in the soap opera realm between these physical spaces. The interior spaces depicted must be commensurate with the middle class taste of the characters. The furniture and electronic gadgets are solidly middle class. The taste in furniture and design ranges from traditional to modern. Everything in the spaces is soft and comfortable. Studio 263 straddles the course regarding this generic code. Its selection of internal spaces is accurate. The furniture in Tom Mbambo and Huni’s houses is indicative of their social and economic positions. Those in the lower middle class- the Jaris and Muwengwas are also fairly represented. The only problem with Studio 263 is their inclination to external spaces- the construction sites, fishing expeditions, airport farewells, out of court space, car parks etc. This use of space is not seen in many established soap operas like Santa Barbra, Generations, Isidingo and so on. This must be completely avoided as this is the domain of the movie and other television genres. By its very nature of running from Monday to Friday, a soap opera is a mass produced product which does not require the rigours that are associated with shooting those scenes. At Rotten Row Court, we ended up with Tom and the journalist as the only people occupying the car park. That place, on a normal working day is filled up with all sorts of people and cars. Where would PSI get the money to pay all those people who should make the place look more realistic? Big budget movies can afford that luxury.

               

The third soap opera generic code is that its narrative is family and/or community centred as opposed to character centred fictive television genres. There is not a single protagonist and an antagonist as we would find in a movie or a properly written television drama. The crises that occur in the narrative blast the whole family and not just an individual thus they are aptly labelled “domestic crises”. The family forms a subplot which is linked to other family subplots by family members who relate with other characters from a different family. The cumulative effect of these intra and interpersonal relationships is the formation of a community of anything between forty and fifty regular characters and a host of other irregular and new characters who continue to be added as new subplots are added and expanded. These relationships are based on kinship, friendships, business, marriage, and romance including interracial. In certain societies where relationships on the basis of the above are not a norm, minority groups are not represented in the cast. It is not uncommon in America to find an all white cast in a soap opera. This is not the norm in Zimbabwe and any race can be part of the cast. Admittedly, there is a group of characters who are more prominent than others in any given episode, however none can be separated and given that special role of a protagonist or antagonist. We simply have main characters and supporting characters. Who is the protagonist in Generations? In Studio 263? In Days Of Our Lives? Difficult to say eh! On this generic code Studio 263 passes the test.

To add to this, a soap opera is a serial narrative which is unending. One television critic Marya Mannes once said about soap operas ‘all is suffused, formless, unresolving, unending’. In other dramatic television genres like a movie, TV drama and so on problems are created in order to be solved towards the end of the narrative. The protagonist achieves his goal or fails to achieve his goal but accomplishes something nonetheless. The old order is reinstated at the end and sometimes a new one is established. Contrastingly, in a soap opera, the operative phrase is ‘growing suspense’. If this is to be achieved, new questions continually suggested by the growing action must be created at a faster rate than answers. The story is in no hurry to solve the problems and the story goes on forever, but without losing its entertainment value. This is the major challenge facing Studio 263. Ever since it began in 2002, about six subplots were established- Kenge subplot, Tom subplot, Jari subplot, Muwengwa subplot, Dread Welly subplot and the James subplot. The question is what is the contribution of these subplots to the overall story? If a subplot is contributing very little to the superobjective, it has no reason to exist. What does the Dread Welly subplot contribute to the story? Can the story cease to exist without it? Godwin Mawuru must revisit the story. A year now has passed and no old subplot has been killed nor a new one formed. The story is going to be exhausted very soon and force the soapie to be like any other boring TV drama.

Furthermore, a soap opera is a serial narrative which underscores nearly all its scenes with music. This generic code is borrowed from stage opera. It is now extensively used even in other stage performances like melodrama and also TV genres like documentaries, movies and game shows. Since a soap opera is a world of emotional extremes, it extensively exploits music to accentuate the emotional response it strives for. Music is not just used willy nilly; it provides transition of time and place. Apart from that, it is used to offer aural representation of the character’s state of mind. It predicts the disaster or excitement that is to follow a given incident. Special use of lights can also help this endeavour. The Studio 263 composer is not doing a fair job. Not all the time do we have music at the aforementioned points. There is need for a variety of sounds to suit each situation. The interpretation of the script rests with the director and he needs to say what he wants at pre-shoot briefs so that his director of photography and lighting designer can be more creative. Independent creativity emanates from the production concept created by the director. Yes there is music in Studio 263, but more creativity is needed in that department.

Another soap opera generic code is that its structure is non formulaic. Other television genres have a formula which has been widely copied by broadcasters and independent producers to gain extra mileage from its commercial success. Wallace (2000)’s book You Can Write a Movie lists a total of sixty-nine genres of movies. All of them use the same formulaic structure of exposition, inciting incident, complications, crises, climax and resolution. This structural arrangement is usually described as Freytag Pyramid. Although the soap opera has got some aspects of the above formula, their placement within its plot does not form a pyramid. The soap opera structure is a labyrinth. Some writers have used the term ‘formless’ for it. Allen (1985) rightly compares the plot movement of a soap opera to that of an uncertain tourist when he says ‘the movement of the reader’s wandering viewpoint along the frontiers of the text is not that of the driver of a sports car down a superhighway, but rather that of the uncertain tourist provided with a rather sketchy map, who frequently stops to look back where s/he has been, occasionally takes a side road, and constantly tries to glimpse what lies around the next bend’. This is where Studio 263 totally misses the point. The story is always moving forward and at high speed like a sports car down a superhighway. Each episode has an average of six scenes. Each subplot is normally given a scene of its own and once the issue has been dealt with, the story moves to another subplot. It is no coincidence that in a story with six subplots, the average number of scenes in each episode is six. The result is that the story has no gaps or blanks to allow the process of ideation on the part of viewers. I have read many views from the press and from ZBC itself complaining about lack of suspense in the story. Blank creation is one of the many ways of building suspense.

This brings me to the last generic code of a soap opera, which is redundancy. There is intraepisodic redundancy where the story revolves around the same issue which is shared by the characters in each episode. In one 1998 episode of Santa Barbra, Lionel’s wife throws in the towel. In the Cruse subplot, Santana is sick in hospital. For many weeks to come Lionel is begging his estranged wife to reconsider her stance. Cruse continually comes to visit Santana in her ward. Access to the CC subplot is gained through the technique of interior monologue. In fact many subplots thrive on intraepisodic redundancy. A thirty minute episode ends without much forward movement of the plot. Allen (1985) correctly puts it “reduced to its syntagmatic axis, the soap opera becomes an endless string of excruciatingly retarded subplots, related in episodes whose redundancy gives them an almost Sisyphean tiresomeness”. I appreciate the use interior monologues in Studio 263 as a way of introducing redundancy, but the scriptwriters need to be properly trained in the art of creating gaps and dialogue writing. As I have already indicated, Studio 263 is moving far too fast. However, it is not as fast as it used to be when it began. One would have thought it was not going to last another two months then. The writers have managed to slow it down a bit, but it needs to be slowed once more without losing its entertainment value. Once an issue has been exhausted, new problems must be created. We now know who sponsored the drugging of Vimbai on the eve of Miss Zimbabwe and the story shouldn’t dwell any further on that issue; new complications must be introduced.