speaking of sneaking: daniel jelani ellis's mesmerizing mythology
05 May 2018

by Drew Rowsome - Photos by Tsholo Khalema

daniel jelani ellis is a most charming host. He greets the audience, jokes, hectors, teases, hands out non-existent programs, and instantly establishes an intimacy that captivates. Lamenting the empty seats - and if there is any justice in the world of theatre that will change - he delivers minimal instructions, "This is a yardie play. If something sweet, make some noise." A dramatic pause completely undercut by the twinkle in his eyes. "And if something sour . . ." This time a theatrical pause. "Make some noise."

A lot of noise was made during the course of speaking of sneaking, all of it sweet.

ellis warns us immediately that he is a ginal. Some of the story may be real, some may not. It could be explained as a theatrical recontextualization of ellis's personal story, but all the embellishments and fictionalizing are in pursuit of a truth. While speaking of sneaking is an immigrant story, it is also a meditation on mythology, dreams, hope and the gay experience. And it is very, very funny, creating waves of laughter.

ellis is also a chameleon. Characters appear and disappear and interact with a deceptive ease more akin to possession than to acting. Accents, voices and physical appearance transform instantaneously and convincingly. A conversation between a 10-year-old boy and his grandmother was an actual dialogue, the feisty elderly woman was there on the stage. Even the dance moves, again many hilarious and viciously pointed, seem to be performed by characters with completely different physicalities, abilities and training. As a calling card, speaking of sneaking proves emphatically that there may not be anything that ellis can't do.

The poetic structure, allowing for a deliciously ambiguous and magical finale, relies on allusions and leaps of faith. Fortunately ellis is mesmerizing enough to make any confusion irrelevant, even if we aren't sure where speaking of sneaking is going, we are enjoying the journey and we are willing to indulge, almost trust him. The one awkward transition device, endemic to one-person shows, is papered over by his effervescence and mock outrage. The subtle clues in the projections and simple but effective props - a barrel that rivals Mary Poppins' portmanteau is paramount as is scaffolding that functions as a multitude of locations - help clarify things but when ellis believes, so does the audience.

The cascade of images and characters is occasionally chaotic. From cam boy to spider to No Frills to beauty queen to blustering homophobe to strutting queen, all in a non-stop hour and a bit, is a lot to process. But there is never a feeling of sketch comedy or going for a joke. Even the most obvious caricature is blissfully funny and slides metaphorically into the whole. Most astoundingly, in ellis's hands the obligatory pre-show announcement becomes comic, pointed, integrated into the whole and stunningly sincere. This "butterfly boy," afraid of being labelled a batty boy, has strong wings and in speaking of sneaking he takes miraculous flight.