MIMI’S SHEBEEN

Sadler’s Wells East

★★★★

“Seutin’s choreography is a masterful fusion of styles, crafting a vivid visual landscape”

Miriam ‘Mama Africa’ Makeba is a towering figure in the global struggle for Black liberation, yet surprisingly few theatrical productions explore her life. The UK premiere of ‘Mimi’s Shebeen’ marks a vital – and arguably overdue – addition, not simply paying tribute but igniting the stage with the passion and precision worthy of such a cultural icon.

Loosely based on Makeba’s life, ‘Mimi’s Shebeen’ is less biography and more evocative dreamscape set within a burnt out ‘shebeen’ – clandestine bars created by Black South Africans to seek refuge from apartheid’s oppressive racial laws and restrictions. Through a rich tapestry of song, music, spoken word and poetry, we trace her beginnings under South African apartheid through many decades of exile to her death in Italy. Makeba’s music and UN addresses are artfully reimagined to create powerful windows into her life which, though fragmented, connect past injustices to present-day struggles. Hope lights the way, though the powerful ending reminds us of its fragility.

Conceived by Alesandra Seutin with text by Lisette Ma Neza and Lebo Mashile, ‘Mimi’s Shebeen’ honours Makeba’s rich legacy through a kaleidoscope of languages, musical styles and movement vocabularies. It opens with a ferocious, aching rendition of ‘Nomeva’, delivered as ‘Mimi’ towers over the ashes of her raided shebeen. The first half pulses with intensity, with iconic songs such as ‘A Piece of Ground’ and ‘Malaika’ reborn as raw, aching laments. Contemporary recordings deepen the immersion, transporting us to the heart of apartheid-era South Africa. The second half offers a brighter tonal palette and more itinerant narrative arc. While this lets in hope, it also feels less cohesive. The symbolism of the bicycle – referencing Black migrants in the town where Makeba died – only becomes clear in a post-show talk, potentially leaving some motifs unresolved. Still, it never loses its emotional grip, resonating with Makeba’s enduring voice.

Seutin’s choreography is a masterful fusion of styles, crafting a vivid visual landscape. Each movement resonates with intention and the full spectrum of human emotion, which the cast delivers with striking precision.

Angelo Moustapha’s music and Hans Mullens’ sound design breathe new life into every song and sample, stripping away any mainstream sanitisation. Their ambient and synth soundscapes expertly build and release tension. Yet the most powerful moments are when the cast raises their voices in completely unaccompanied harmony, filling the auditorium with a powerful affirmation of the right to simply be.

The staging by Stef Stessel and Ine Van Bortel is strikingly effective. Deflated black, bin-bag-like structures slowly unfurl skyward, abstract shapes becoming increasingly human until the conjure the ghosts of possible lynchings. Though their elongated silhouettes obstruct sightlines and might benefit from a little reconfiguration. As the performance unfolds, the structures lift mostly out of view – perhaps a metaphor for overcoming past violence. Yet the stage feels a little bare and their absence blurs the boundaries of the shebeen.

Caroline Fainke’s costume design is visually expressive, unifying the aesthetic while allowing individuals to shine. Most arresting is Mimi’s towering form in the opening scene, crowned with Makeba’s iconic cylindrical hat. Margareta Andersen and Stef Stessel’s lighting design is richly atmospheric, creating stunning effects with shadow as much as with light. Diederik De Cock’s sound design makes the onstage band sing, layering the space with resonant bass which gives the music a deeply physical quality.

The cast (Tutu Puoane, Nandi Bhebhe, Kopano Maroga, Nosiphiwo Samente, Kenza Deba, Rose Sall Sao) is phenomenal, landing every movement, note, and gesture with thrilling intensity and creating infectious collective energy. While the whole cast should be congratulated, Puoane’s ‘Mimi’ leads the way, as commanding as she is vulnerable.

‘Mimi’s Shebeen’ is a powerful, stirring tribute to a woman whose voice reverberated across continents, honouring Makeba’s legacy while urgently speaking to the present.

MIMI’S SHEBEEN

Sadler’s Wells East

Reviewed on 22nd October 2025

by Hannah Bothelton

Photography by Danny Willems

MIMI’S SHEBEEN

ROBIN HOOD: THE LEGEND. RE-WRITTEN at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

★★

“The performances are uniformly strong, joyful, silly and skilful”

Everyone has their own favourite image of Robin Hood, whether it be Kevin Costner, Jason Connery, Russell Crowe (really?); or the Disney rendition. Or a camp pantomime outlaw in green tights. Carl Grose has taken three of those archetypes and has them gate-crash his alternative – and quite eccentric – version of the legend. The device is an embodiment of the quirky humour that, unlike the sleight of hand archery skills on display, often misses its target.

Part of the problem is that nobody, including Grose, seems to know where the target is. You can’t see the wood for the trees in this overgrown Sherwood Forest where tangled brambles of offbeat ideas lie in wait like thorny catch weed. You don’t need to wade too far in to get lost. Or frustrated enough to want to turn back. Tax collectors in hi vis jackets delight at relieving commoners of their bow fingers. Fingers which, no less, end up in a casket the sheriff keeps hidden away, occasionally lifting the lid to allow the dismembered digits to prophesise to him in squeaky voices. We are in a pretty slaughterous world where scarlet blood puddles and muddles the greenery. Where fact, fiction, myth and legend collide at the whim of an insurgent history teacher on acid.

The opening moments are magical, the scene set by the Balladeer (Nandi Bhebhe; velvet voiced and spellbinding). The landscape is borrowed from Jez Butterworth’s ‘Jerusalem’ as the mystical atmosphere swiftly morphs into a kind of ‘state of the nation’ play. “Who owns England?”, the downtrodden ask. Sheriff Baldwyn (a commanding performance from Alex Mugnaioni) keeps the King in a permanent state of befuddlement by spiking his tea in order to have free reign to be as dastardly as can be. Paul Hunter’s portrayal of the king is a masterclass in comic buffoonery, while still conveying that this hapless monarch knows much more than he is letting on.

Chiara Stephenson’s split-level set crudely separates the two classes, but there is plenty of social mobility. Not least the sheriff’s grog-guzzling wife, Marian (Ellen Robertson – in fine, playful form). We are never quite sure of her motives, but her disdain of, and possibly guilt over, her privilege drives her to extremes of disguise, the likes of which would be far too big a spoiler to reveal here. An ensemble troupe of Merry Men (excuse the Olde Worlde gender reference) create the required mayhem to subvert the established order. Apparently, it all started with a plan to build a new road, putting much of the forest at risk. A rather throwaway shuffle onto the environmentalist bandwagon, but I guess Grose felt the need.

The performances are uniformly strong, joyful, silly and skilful. It must have been a task, but director Melly Still guides the company through the mayhem with a steady hand. For the most part. At interval, the lawns are littered with bemused expressions heading for solace at the bar. It is short lived. The second act gets jaw-droppingly bizarre as we become lost in a sea of abdications, beheadings and resurrections. In the spirit of true farce, some ends are tied up, but no matter how hard we try the disjointed fragments of this production never really meet in our minds. The theatrical trickery has to be admired (Ira Mandela Siobhan is compelling as the conjuring but doomed villain, Gisburne) but the overall journey is unnavigated. Lost in the forest, left to make it up as it goes along.

As the sun sets and a crescent moon hangs above Regent’s Park, we file out into the night wondering if what we have just seen really did come from the same writer who penned “Dead Dog in a Suitcase” and “The Grinning Man”. The tagline in the PR blurb pronounces “Think you know the story of Robin Hood? Think again!”. It promises revelation, but the question remains the same as we leave the theatre.

Tag Archives: Nandi Bhebhe

MIMI’S SHEBEEN

★★★★

Sadler’s Wells East

MIMI’S SHEBEEN

Sadler’s Wells East

★★★★

“Seutin’s choreography is a masterful fusion of styles, crafting a vivid visual landscape”