Dave Harris’ Tambo and Bones takes us, in three scenes, on a five hundred year adventure from an American Minstrel show, to a hip-hop gig in the present, then onto a futuristic lecture, examining black identity and the black experience in creative art. Ambitious, or what?! One hand it feels very innovative and experimental; on the other it also borrows from the Theatre of the Absurd, and there are a several nods to other productions that attempted similar stylistic presentations. Either way, it’s undoubtedly a subversive piece of theatre which provokes a variety of reactions and will leave you either exhilarated or exasperated – or quite possibly both.
In the same way that Harlequin and Columbine were set characters in Commedia dell’Arte, Tambo and Bones were roles in nineteenth-century minstrel shows; Tambo played the tambourine, and Bones played the bones (obvs) – a kind of castanet. The shows were performed by white actors in blackface; it seems bizarre and offensive now, but my parents’ generation adored TV’s Black and White Minstrel Show which continued until 1978, with a stage production touring until 1987. As a child I just found it freaky.
The first scene shows Tambo and Bones (sans either tambo or bones) exchanging ideas, challenges, interacting with the audience, against a fake, surrealistic landscape including two (movable) trees. This shouted Waiting for Godot to me all the way through; two tramp-like characters who apparently have no other existence apart from in each other’s lives, without much happening. Trees play a part in Godot too; and Beckett’s Pozzo and Lucky, a ruthless autocrat with a mistreated servant who interrupt proceedings, are here replaced by the playwright (a puppet) upon whom they deliver vengeful violence. Two Characters in Search of an Author, perhaps?
The second scene takes us to a gig where Tambo and Bones are high-achieving, influential hip hop musicians, presenting us with the two elements of creative drive: wanting to change the world with your art, and wanting to make lots of money out of it. Shakespeare wouldn’t disagree. But their fame and fortune gets out of hand as they start – unwittingly or otherwise – to cause the overthrow of the world political status quo.
Four hundred years in the future, our actors, Daniel Ward and Clifford Samuel, come out of character and present as themselves, reflecting on how the first half of the show exhausted them with all that rap, and delivering a history of how Tambo and Bones became the religious icons/cult heroes/political philosophers that have led us to our current, blissful state. Throughout the play there are additional nuances of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, Hamilton and even The Book of Mormon, in its clever portrayal of how an ordinary person can end up being a semi-God.
The language is deliberately divisive, with endless repetitions of the N word; individual audience members will react to that however they see fit. The play asks many questions about race and identity, and what’s fake and what’s real, as well as the responsibilities of a performing artist, and how an audience responds to what it sees on stage. It doesn’t offer answers to these questions – they have to be provided by you.
The ending is especially subversive, but perhaps not unique; I was reminded of DV8’s Bound to Please, where a cast member rounded on the audience for photographing the show, and Peter Handke’s Offending the Audience, where taped cheering forces the audience out of the auditorium at the end of the play without their having the chance to have their reaction heard. Neither of those happen here, but it’s an equally disturbing and unsettling ending.
Clifford Samuel and Daniel Ward give hugely committed performances that show off their terrific versatility, with great clowning and musical skills as well as being superb actors. Incredibly likeable, their enthusiasm spreads all around the auditorium, galvanising the audience into frequently responding to them; this is perhaps not a show for shrinking violets. Hats off also to Jaron Lammens and Dru Cripps as the X-Bots in the final scene; Mr Cripps’ ability to sit on an invisible chair leaves you speechless.
Each scene culminates in acts of violence. It’s a personal thing, but violence is always turn-off for me, even against a puppet, or a masked DJ, or a cartoon President, or a robot that protests it’s a real person. For me, Tambo and Bones is an essentially pessimistic play, despite the upbeat air that permeates all its scenes; if violence is always the outcome, the future for the world is bleak. There’s a very significant event that happens between the second and third scenes which I won’t mention, but is an act of violence that not even Hitler achieved.
The fact that the audience just drifts off at the end of the play, as and when they’re ready, is a theatrical not with a bang but a whimper moment, leaving you dissatisfied with the conclusion. But that’s not the only reason that, despite all its extraordinary qualities, I can’t find myself enamoured with this play. If you don’t “get” Godot style interaction, you’ll find the first scene dull (Mrs Chrisparkle nodded off). I found the final scene dull too – in fact, I stopped listening to the narrative because the actions of the X-Bots was much more interesting. And for all its bold decisions and quirky structure, I couldn’t stop thinking about how, deep down, nothing is new. Perhaps I’m just insufficiently connected to American culture.
Nevertheless, if you haven’t seen anything like this before, this will be a shock to the system, and if you like to be challenged in the theatre, this is definitely for you. After it leaves Northampton, the tour continues to Liverpool, Manchester, Coventry, back to its spiritual home in Stratford East, and finally to Leeds in May.
Production photos by Jane Hobson
Three-sy Does It!
