Forty-four years ago, when the white South African playwright Athol Fugard’s Tony Award-winning “Master Harold” ... and the Boys opened on Broadway in 1982, the brutal conditions of South Africa’s authoritarian apartheid system of white supremacy and systemic racism were still firmly in place.

“Master Harold” was initially banned in South Africa. It is set in the 1950s, when the population was required to be racially classified as White, Coloured, Indian, or Black. Black South Africans were required to carry pass cards at all times. Racial segregation dictated where people could live, and Black South Africans were forcibly relocated to homelands. The authoritarian state extended to organizations, banning publications and detaining individuals indefinitely without trial. Wiretapping and surveillance were widespread. Marriage and sexual relationships between races were illegal. Education was segregated and deliberately inferior for Black citizens, designed to produce cheap labor.

It was not until 1992, when a white-only referendum paved the way for the 1994 democratically elected government, that apartheid and white rule officially ended.

The Geffen Playhouse’s outstanding revival of “Master Harold” is directed by the multi-award-winning team of Artistic Director Tarell Alvin McCraney and Emily Mann, a longtime colleague of both Fugard and John Kani. It is a tribute to Fugard, who passed away in 2025, and it honors him well.

It was Mann who reached out to the 82-year-old John Kani to perform the role of Sam, the 70-year-old Black waiter. Kani was a much younger actor when he first played the role in the 1983 South African premiere.

This is a rare opportunity to see the internationally recognized Kani in a magnificently powerful and controlled performance that brings his lived experience to the role of Sam. Elegance, dignity, and, at times, a measured quietness. It is not to be missed.

Beowulf Boritt’s brilliant scenic design of the worn, aging tea room features rain that continuously pours throughout. We hear the rain. It not only keeps customers away but also symbolizes the brutal apartheid world outside and the temporary safe haven within.

This is a powerful theatrical piece exploring the relationship between a white teenage boy, Hally (Ben Beatty), and two Black waiters, Sam (John Kani) and Willie (Nyasha Hatendi), who work in the rundown tea room Hally’s mother operates. While Hally’s alcoholic father is hospitalized, Sam acts as a compassionate mentor and father figure, reminiscing with Hally about a childhood spent flying kites and discussing philosophy. Despite the systemic racism surrounding them, their bond appears deep, intellectual, and genuinely affectionate.

The juxtaposition of an ideal world and cruel reality is a prominent theme throughout. The dream of a better world is expressed through dance. The opening scene is captivating. Willie is preparing to compete in a major ballroom dancing competition, with Sam guiding him. They have a rare opportunity to be themselves, to speak freely at work because they are alone. Ballroom dancing becomes a metaphor for harmony in the world.

Sam is not a good dancer in the literal sense. He is a good dancer in the symbolic sense that the play explores. He knows how to move gracefully through complex and difficult social situations. He is doing his part to navigate the world without collisions.

Ben Beatty delivers a strong performance as the entitled Hally, who struggles with his hatred for his racist, alcoholic, manipulative father, who is hospitalized, and his mother, who submits to him and allows him to return home.

Beatty reveals both vulnerability and turmoil as Hally, desperate for control, betrays his deep bond with Sam, culminating in a vicious act of racism that shatters their friendship.

Nyasha Hatendi brings warmth to Willie, who dreams of winning a ballroom dancing competition. Hatendi is subtle and genuine in his performance.

There are scenes that stay with you.

When Hally and Sam reminisce about a day spent flying a handmade kite, it becomes a symbol of their bond. A moment of pure, colorblind connection and Sam’s attempt to help Hally rise above his troubled home life.

The moments when Hally receives calls from the hospital—news that his father is coming home—trigger shame, resentment, and anger. His frustration is directed toward Sam and Willie. He quickly shifts from friend to superior.

The turning point comes when Hally, feeling humiliated and ashamed, asserts his racial dominance. He insists that Sam no longer call him Hally, but “Master Harold.”

In the climax, in an act of dehumanization, Hally spits in Sam’s face. Sam responds with dignity rather than violence, but the damage is done.

The play is based on an incident from Fugard’s own life. In a moment of anger, the young Fugard committed the same act toward Sam, a Black employee in his mother’s tea room who was both friend and surrogate father figure. The play serves as a public act of atonement. In real life, they reconciled. There is hope.

In the final scene, Willie puts his last money—his bus fare home—into the jukebox to play Sarah Vaughan’s beautiful “Dream a Little Dream of Me.” It is a fitting conclusion. Willie is both courageous and tender as he and Sam dance together, holding onto hope for a better world. The final image of the play.

“Stars shining bright above you
Night breezes seem to
whisper "I love you"
Birds singing in a sycamore tree
Dream a little dream of me”

“Say nighty night and kiss me
Just hold me tight and
tell me you miss me
While I'm alone and blue as can be
Dream a little dream of me”

Geffen Playhouse revival of “Master Harold” delivers powerful, timely drama