Sweet but definitely not saccharine

Dec 6, 2009 12:00 AM | By Arts & Entertainment

Send-up of South African entertainment industry is fun and funny without being venomous

As Julie Andrews informed us in the 1964 Disney classic Mary Poppins, "Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down". But it won't have you laughing quite like Malcolm Terrey's satirical musical revue Spoof Full of Sugar.

As the title suggests, Spoof Full of Sugar takes a hilarious and enjoyable look at the South African entertainment industry, sending up everything from popular, big-budget musicals and tribute shows to South Africa's burgeoning celebrity culture.

But, said Terrey, Spoof is not a show full of insider jokes for the enjoyment of those who work in the industry. Even though he has been in showbiz for 37 years, he insisted that he had approached this show with the same eyes as the general public.

"I live alone and I, too, talk back at the television and say, 'what the hell are you saying?! ... why are you doing that?!'"

He said there was "no venom" in his lampooning of the likes of Steve Hofmeyr, Joost van der Westhuizen, the Barnyard Theatre with its unending string of musical tribute shows, and the Sunday Times's very own Barry Ronge. Instead, he said, he does it with a "coating of sugar". Sugar-coated, yes, but not saccharine.

A healthy dose of frivolity, irreverence and humour is served from the outset.

An amateur production of Beauty and the Beast goes awry when a giant, singing teapot is interrupted while performing the musical's title track, made famous as a duet by Celine Dion and Peabo Bryson.

The news is shocking: the lead actress who plays Beauty has just died, but the show must go on. Suddenly the romantic and syrupy Beauty and the Beast becomes a cynical Beauty Is Deceased.

What ensues is a whodunit in which jealous actresses seize their moment in the limelight, agents and producers milk the saga for every cent they can, the media makes itself the main event, the police do precious little to find the killer and housewives love every second of the drama. It does not matter that no one seems to care who killed Beauty; the story line is entertaining but unimportant.

Born in the UK, Terrey links the genre to "the old British 'blackout sketch'" in which a stand-alone comic sketch or scene ends with a sudden blackout or a dropping of the stage curtains. Another sketch that has no relevance or connection to it follows.

The challenge, said Terrey, was not only having a tight and clever script, but finding performers who were good singers and actors, who could do comedy and who, "let's face it, are attractive to look at on stage".

He certainly struck it rich with this cast. Each person not only shines individually, but they work exceptionally well as an ensemble. Brandon Auret, best known for his former role as detective Leon du Plessis on SABC3's Isidingo and more recently in the movies Hansie and District 9, reveals a side that few have seen. Dianne Simpson, who trained at the former Pretoria Technikon and at the TV1 Actors Studio in Los Angeles, impresses with her all-round excellence: an impeccable voice, with range and athleticism, versatility and an ability to make you laugh again and again.

Pieter Bosch Botha wows with his musical theatre-styled voice and Ntsepa Pitjeng is unforgettable. I'm not sure she manages to convey it on television - she starred in SABC2's Muvhango - but on stage she is a bold performer who knows no boundaries, without being over the top.

Ultimately, the secret ingredient is Terrey's "control freak" sensibility. He was not only responsible for directing, adapting the script and rewriting all the lyrics, he also designed the costumes, actually sewing some of the garments and making the many wigs.

In an entertainment industry that Terrey describes as one in which "a person does one episode of a drama series and all of a sudden they're a celebrity", there is only one Malcolm Terrey.

"Some say thank God for that!" he joked.