Lose to Win, playing at the Belvoir Theatre, theatricalises the perilous and gruelling life of Mandela Mathia, who doubled as the writer and lone actor. The play was directed by Jessica Arthur, but it could almost be called a musical, because of how the acting was so closely intertwined with South Sudanese music. One of the most heavily-stressed messages of the play was the importance of music in storytelling — Yacou Mbaye as musician was integral to the show. Mbaye was a constant presence alongside Mathia, and skillfully developed the themes and plot in tandem with Mathia’s oral storytelling. Indeed, the set resembled a musical space as much as a theatrical space.
Of the sparse items that furnished the stage, more than half were instruments, and much of the rest were suitcases. Mbaye at turns used a guitar, a xylophone, handheld and fixed drums and maracas, to name but a few. This turned the audience’s focus on physical props to the ambience created by the South Sudanese music and the soft orange-yellow light that splayed across the unembellished stage. Kate Baldwin, the lighting designer, used yellow and orange tones throughout the play, with only minor deviations, including one memorable moment wherein Mathia demonstrated how he would sit in front of a circa-1995 computer and pass the time by changing the colour of his Yahoo inbox. As he flicked between colours, the stage lit up in tandem. As a Gen-Z person myself, it was an exciting glimpse into the period where computers were still novel and strange.
Half the circumference of the stage was taken up by a second, smaller raised stage, which was covered with a wall made of woven rope. Before the performance began, it looked like a decorative wall, until Mathia made his entrance, dancing and singing behind the wall of rope in a hazy golden glow. It did seem rather magical, with credit to Jen Jackson as stage manager for using the space in such an unexpected way. Brendon Boney, the sound designer, probably spent as much time on the set as Jackson given how many instruments there were.
Lose to Win is a deviation from Belvoir’s preferred mode, which tends to lean towards ensembles and avant-garde styles. The justification for staging the play as a monologue rather than an ensemble was because it was an autobiographical play, detailing Mathia’s life as a young boy in South Sudan and his journey to Australia via Sudan and Egypt. This autobiographical style signalled an even greater deviation from Belvoir’s modus operandi, something that few theatre companies would be so bold as to attempt.
However, it was not as provocative or energetic as some of Belvoir’s other plays, because Mathia and Mbaye were the only cast members, and despite Mbaye’s integral role, there is only so much energy that two people can give. It was certainly a challenge for two people to use up the entire space, but the best effort they could make was limited by their numbers. The emphasis on music doubled both as a symbol of South Sudanese culture and a theatrical device, to compensate for the small cast.
Because of the conservative set and the minimalist supporting cast, Mandela Mathia certainly had the burden of theatricality, in carrying out the entire performance. Luckily, he had a booming voice and clearly-rehearsed skills of vocal projection, aided by his vocal coach, Laura Farrell. The pressure on him felt palpable and could be clearly seen from the audience; every so often he would grab a handkerchief to wipe his shining forehead, or take a moment while pausing from a dance or anecdote to pant for breath. Costume designer Keerthi Subramanyam made the bold choice of putting Mathia in two jackets; an orange hoodie and a black bomber jacket. It would have made a lesser man melt. However, he persevered admirably, and was always audible even from the furthest reach of the crowd.
Mathia’s life involved struggle since his first day — he was born in wartime, in a small town called Galigla in South Sudan. As a result, he was given nicknames like “Kalashnikov” and “AK-47.” On the first day of kindergarten he found out that his father had been killed. During his childhood, he spent time worrying about being hit by stray bullets, and finding food and money to get by. When he was older, he migrated to Sudan and later to Egypt, where he became a young street entrepreneur and found all sorts of jobs to scrape money together. Mathia injected many of his stories with humour and liveliness, joking in one instance that in the movie of his life, his mother would be played by Nicole Kidman, his father would be played by Sam Neill, and his brother would be played by Charles Wu. These bursts of humour punctuated the more pensive moments with welcome comic relief.
What stuck in my memory was the tenderness with which Mathia recounted his life. He had faced unimaginable horrors, and fought for years to get into Australia — what he described as “the promised land.” But kindness and joy radiated from within him, and it was clear that no matter how much hardship he faced, he could not be robbed of his joy. This was what made him such a compelling figure for an autobiographical play; without this abundant zest for life, he could not have carried off such an intense and intimate performance.
Lose to Win plays from 25 April – 19 May at the Belvoir Theatre.