Despite its title, this is less a play about identity than a fascinating look at the nightmarish beasts that arise in its absence. Sher suggests that Dutch-born Verwoerd was never regarded by the Afrikaners as an equal, and took out his rage on black South Africans by implementing apartheid laws. “They were born here, yet I make them aliens,” his character says with satisfaction. Tsafendas–delicately portrayed by Sher–also feels dislocated. Born in Mozambique to a Cretan father and his Colored servant, Tsafendas spent 50 years searching for a place to call home. The demons of that rootlessness are represented onstage by the tapeworm he believes he contracted at boarding school–played by a menacing Alex Furns in white make-up, constantly egging Tsafendas on to violence.
It’s only during his 27 years on death row that Tsafendas’s character–and our sympathy for him–blossom. His monologues become increasingly cheery and peaceful. We hear the first signs of change in South Africa, too, as hangings increase, then stop. It’s 1993, apartheid is being dismantled and Tsafendas is released to a hospital. His angry tapeworm slips offstage. It is Verwoerd’s brutal legacy of segregation that has proven harder to shake.
