The play, written by Athol Fugard and directed here by Visiting Artist Woodie King, Jr., is set in a hovel in apartheid South Africa (the grittily detailed set design came courtesy of Schlawyea Turner-Blunt '02E). In this hovel live two brothers, Maurice (O'Hare) and Zach (Mosley).
Crisis occurs when the more educated Maurice helps the illiterate Zach write a letter to a pen pal who turns out to be a white woman. Maurice, who knows that whites must never mix with "our kind," wants Zach to burn the letter, while Zach urges the lighter-skinned Maurice to masquerade as a white man and meet the pen pal.
Fugard wrote the play to feature a black actor and a white actor, a choice which pushes the story past the realm of realism and into that of allegory. This approach runs the risk of sacrificing character development for symbol-making, and indeed Maurice and Zach do fit racial stereotypes. Maurice is thoughtful and prudent, while Zach is sensual, pseudo-animalistic and-as revealed in an early moment which receives maddeningly little follow-up-a rapist.
I had some difficulty fitting my mind around these characterizations. In a play which is so clearly meant to be read on the level of symbol, what does it mean that Zach fits such a negative stereotype? I can only guess that Fugard included these aspects as provocation, a dose of political incorrectness to spike a not-so-original argument for commonality and brotherhood.
To Fugard's credit, he complicates the audience's understanding by making Zach the hardworking breadwinner of the household, while Maurice stays at home and fawns over Zach in a fashion that can only be described as servile.
Is this a metaphor for white manipulation of black labor in apartheid South Africa? I wasn't sure; one thing the play never made clear was why Maurice didn't have a job himself and was so dependent on Zach.
Fortunately for Fugard, Mosley and O'Hare made Zach and Maurice into real, sympathetic people. Marvelously loose, funny and poignant, they found both the slapstick and the heartache in the play.
"Blood Knot" was two hours long, took place in a static set and had a cast of just two, but the actors had no trouble keeping the audience's rapt attention throughout.
I first saw Mosley and O'Hare together in the department's production of "The Flies," two years ago. There, they both seemed a bit suffocated by Sartre's existential angst, while joker Dan Farbman '01 had all the best lines. "Blood Knot" was a better showcase for the talents of these two gifted actors.