On the simple stage where he always shines, Sotigui Kouyate tells of little Sophiatown in South Africa whose marvels included not its decor but its people with their different looks, attitudes, religions, music, stories and hangouts. With a setting delineated by a red and white woven mat-like rug, Le Costume unfolds the folk tragedy of Philemon and wife Matilda, based on Can Themba's House of the Truth. He's a handsome, strong young man who gets his own breakfast and wakes pretty Matilda only to bring her sweets, which she takes in like sex. (Everything's mimed.) He'd like her to get his mother's advice on housewifery, but she doesn't think that will work. Not that Philemon's crazy about his own job. He meets pals Joe and Maphikela on the bus (represented by a movable coat-type rack that serves for most scene changes and holding props).
The men figure out ways to excuse themselves from work. Rain does the trick. It sends Philemon home, where he almost catches Matilda making love with KK, who hastily escapes but leaves his suit on a chair next to the bed. Angry Philemon leaves. "Finally," thinks Matilda, who relives her days as a night club singer of "Forbidden Games" with audience collaboration. Soon Philemon and his pals are playing a Zulu game; he's getting a new rhythm. Returning home, Philemon finds freshly dressed, primped Matilda in spruced-up house with a nice dinner waiting. But before eating, he asks for the suit. He puts it like a third person at table to be served, and though she speaks of how desolate she had been to have done what she did, he insists the suit must stay with her and them always. And that happens as they go through memories, a party, interactions with friends until Philemon again returns from an outing with his pals to find Matilda in bed.
The small but memorable story gets appropriate matching treatment. Miming, especially of drunkenness, is skillful. Actors make their characters likeable as much for as in spite of their foibles. With all its South African folk flavor, the humanity of the story exerts universal appeal.
