It might seem a wonder that men have things to say. Privileged position robs you of complaints. The world already rotates around the size of manhood, what more is left to yap about?
Men react. Where I come from, Nigerian men react to everything.
Catcalling a woman in a short dress is a right. Slap the buttocks if it looks too big. Ask a woman out on a date if she seems lonely. Start a family if the pressure gets to you. Have sex if a woman is available (or another man). Drink if alcohol is accessible. Act in response if you have an erection.
Respond to feminists when it seems they are about to trend the entire time on Twitter.
Nothing happens without calling for man’s judgment- the manly opinion.
A gender that has been fed superiority since the beginning of the world; surely you can flourish without another word uttered, no?
Apparently, I am wrong; brothers have stuff they’d like to share. And I had enough time to spare on a Friday evening to listen.
I didn’t catch the stage play ‘For Coloured Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow Is Enuf” when it came to Nigeria, but I caught a chunk of Tyler Perry’s cinematic version. And I hated it. So there you go! There will be no comparisons to be made here.
Colour Me Man explores some of the obvious issues men go through. Identified by colours, these men share their contemporary problems that would taste like ice-cream if compared to the taste of bitter leaf.
Grey is cheating on his wife. Yellow is a player. White is a virgin and the Lord’s boy. Blue is rich and envied by society. Black is a widower and has a criminal record.
On a scale of importance, these issues fall at the feet of many insurmountable realities.
But there is Red…
Let’s talk about Red. The only character that lights a room.
Red is an under-achieving, bitter, talkative male with a secret.
Red is the man easily denied by all. Some will argue that he doesn’t exist. Family will shield his crime. His case would be described as the devil’s momentary intercession. Red is plain evil; there’s no glory to his name.
But he exists. And he lives amongst us. Sometimes, within us.
His propensity to hurt is not the real tragedy; it is the pleasure that he places on pain that shocks and kills.
He enjoys his actions; and in a drunken spate, he confesses just how much he enjoys being vile.
It is the peak of this performance. Red takes Colour Me Man from a Sunday sermon of flaws-and-loving-it, to tragic heights that give the right texture to the highly promoted Play.
Colour Me Man is a long stretch of conversation begging for intermission. This approach honours the dexterity of the director, Najite Dede. The power of the words radiates with inspiring dialogues; the expressions will win you over. True talents were on display.
And if you have the time, you can appreciate the dashing eligibility of these actors. Hot handsome brothers fa!
However, I am left wondering: if these are the major challenges of the contemporary man, then he has no major worries at all (except for Red who should be in jail).
Nonetheless, Colour Me Man is a fine work. Details were flawlessly achieved. But we know these things can break a producer’s back. So Lydia Idakula Sobogun, here’s a toast to your genius. She comes with experience even the gods will acknowledge.
I caught the first show yesterday, it was worth my N3,000 ticket fee (ok, the N3,000 ticket a man bought for me *shines teeth under the sun*)
You should catch it today at Terra Kulture.