Itsoseng

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Omphile Molusi, his lanky frame straining, lugs a trunk across stage and begins to kick it. His languid, relaxed body explodes into motion, he shrieks, then he speaks. The thick musicality of his South African township accent is distracting at first. You can feel the audience tense. Will this be a tale lost in translation?

Soon though, we're sucked into Molusi's world, a world of hope and cruelty. This is the South Africa you don't hear about – not one betrayed by white Apartheid, but one betrayed by black politicians, harrowing poverty and insidious despair. This is a world which doesn't have a happy ending. Here there are no easy answers. Here promised revolutions and dreams of freedom exploit the poor with the bridle of hope.

Molusi's performance is breathtaking. His physicality and his presence dominate the stage as he blitzes through a cast of characters, each of which showcase his talents as an actor and a writer. But it's the message that comes through most strongly, the visceral scream of a stolen utopia. It's the disappointment of the New South Africa, the broken heart of a nation where cold reality crushes all before it – truth, justice, and in the end, love.

Molusi's time at the RSC was clearly not wasted. His receiving of the prestigious Brett Goldin Bursary was not a fluke. Nor is it a fluke that Itsoseng manages to maintain a strong sense of realism. Drawing from his childhood experiences in the real township of Itsoseng, Molusi mines his memories and the result is a production which is gripping and devastating, humane and wise. The man is an extraordinary talent.