Anyone who caught the revivals this year of “The Road to Mecca” and “Blood Knot” knows that South African playwright Athol Fugard takes his sweet time to get to the point.
Both shows were burdened by meandering, interminable first acts. Judging by the number of empty seats after intermission, quite a few people didn’t stay for the end.
It was their loss, since all that exposition paid off in dramatic second acts.
Lo and behold, the same pattern occurs in 1989’s “My Children! My Africa!,” which continues the Signature company’s Fugard season.
Except this time, the second act isn’t good enough to make up for the slog preceding it.
The action takes place in 1984, when the fight against apartheid was heating up. After facing each other in a high-school debating contest, Thami (Stephen Tyrone Williams) — a Bantu student from a poor, black school — teams up with the middle-class, white Isabel (Allie Gallerani) for a big literary quiz. Their collaboration is orchestrated by Thami’s mentor/teacher, Mr. Myalatya, a k a Mr. M (James A. Williams).
The thin line between leisurely and self-indulgent is crossed repeatedly as Fugard takes more than an hour and a half to show how Thami and Isabel learn from each other. “I discovered a new world,” she says guilelessly.
The actors handle the dense text well, but between the didactic exchanges and the occasional monologues — equal parts illuminating and grating — this is tough going.
Clearly, there’s a storm brewing. But instead of a predictable racial showdown, it’s Thami and Mr. M who end up arguing about the best way to liberate South Africa’s black population.
The older man prefers appeasement to confrontation. “If the struggle needs weapons, give it words,” he urges. His student, on the other hand, believes time has run out, and violent action’s the only option left.
Well-directed by Ruben Santiago-Hudson, the play is best when building on the unsaid. We see Mr. M tolerate cheekiness from Isabel that he’d never accept from Thami — Gallerani nicely suggests the girl’s naive entitlement. And the charismatic Williams lets us understand Thami’s dilemma between his allegiance to Mr. M and his craving for change.
But most of the time, “My Children! My Africa!” relies on earnest speechifying. A teachable moment doesn’t have to feel like a lecture.