Truth to tell

OneWorld UK

By Daniel Nelson

Films can play a part sometimes a big part - in mobilising people and reinforcing and even perhaps occasionally changing views. Look at the film of Al Gores climate change lecture, An Inconvenient Truth, which as the fourth biggest earning documentary of all time has been seen by hundreds of thousands of people. The DVD version that went on sale this year will be seen by tens of thousands more; 1,000 individuals are being trained to spread Gores presentation to community groups throughout the US; 5% of all box office receipts from the film are being donated to The Alliance for Climate Protection.

Because of the popular pull of stars such as Leonardo diCaprio, even a Hollywood adventure yarn such as Blood Diamond can be used by conflict diamond campaigners and, unfortunately, by the diamond industry to focus public attention on a cause that would otherwise be the preserve of earnest NGO activists.

The case cannot so easily be made for political theatre. Mention the phrase and German playwright Bertolt Brecht will be cited. But he died half a century ago. Nevertheless, the tradition exists and continues: in this country David Hare, Mark Ravenhill and David Edgar are among many writers who have shown themselves keen to tackle political issues.

The impact is rarely as visceral as a mainstream film or as convincing as, say, McLibel, the story of two ordinary people who humiliated McDonald's in the biggest corporate PR disaster in history. But in the hands of a master-craftsman such as South Africas John Kani, the stage can deliver a powerful punch or subtly convey human weakness, strength and complexity.

Kani made his indelible mark in 1970s apartheid, and has been performing and writing ever since. Nothing but the truth (Hampstead Theatre, until 24 February) also deals with apartheid, this time from the perspective not of black-white differences but of differences between black South Africans, between, in this case, the librarian who stayed at home and quietly tried to survive and make a life, and his now dead, glamorous brother who fought the anti-apartheid struggle mostly in exile.

With just three characters, a simple set, and 90 minutes, the play interweaves sibling jealousy with arguments for and against post-apartheid reconciliation. Yes, the personal is political, but, equally, the political is personal.

In his programme notes, South African writer Zakes Mda, draws another moral: that attempts to erase the past in order to construct a new collective identity that will transform race and ethnic-bound identities to a new South African national identity are not laudable. Memory matters.

Nothing but the truth is flawed by the predictability of the key revelation and the use of standard theatrical formats: the librarians recollection of the childhood loss of a handmade wire toy to his brother is beautifully told but is a theatrical cliché nonetheless. Yet script and performances make this as absorbing, entertaining and interesting an evening as almost any play in London. Political theatre lives.