Amy Jephta’s ‘A Good House’ is an incisive and satirical exploration of race, class and respectability politics in contemporary South Africa. Presented by the Royal Court in collaboration with the Bristol Old Vic and Johannesburg’s Market Theatre, the production positions Jephta as a crucial voice in the theatrical interrogation of post-apartheid society.
Set within the confines of Stillwater, a gated community emblematic of South Africa’s aspirational middle class, the play begins with the unexpected appearance of a corrugated iron shack on an undeveloped plot. This intrusion rattles the neighbourhood’s flimsy liberal façade, prompting the formation of a Residents’ Association to call for its removal. Sihle (Sifiso Mazibuko) and Bonolo (Mimî M Khayisa), the estate’s only Black residents, are coerced into delivering the eviction notice, a task that highlights the uneasy tensions underpinning their status within this predominantly white space.
Jephta deftly critiques the contradictions inherent in the Black middle class’s pursuit of social mobility, exposing the compromises required for assimilation. Bonolo’s preoccupation with outward symbols of affluence—her prized cheese knife and wine aerator—reveals the fragility of her belonging, while Sihle’s reluctant tolerance of latent racism exposes the emotional toll of their precarious ascent. Surrounding them are their Machiavellian white neighbours: Chris (Scott Sparrow) and Lynette (Olivia Darnley), whose progressive rhetoric conceals deep-seated entitlement and a racialised fear of the outsider, and Jess (Robyn Rainsford) and Andrew (Kai Luke Brummer), a younger couple who awkwardly assert their own unfounded displacement as more significant than Sihle and Bonolo’s.
Under Nancy Medina’s assured direction, the play’s most arresting moments emerge in its use of humour to pierce these social veneers. One such scene sees Sihle and Bonolo retreat into an aside, collapsing into uncontrollable laughter at their Blackness. Their writhing fits leave the audience in a state of disarmed amusement, underscoring Jephta’s sharp critique of performative allyship, where laughter functions both as a release and a weapon against exclusion.
The shack, a stark and enigmatic presence, evokes a Beckettian sensibility. Its evolving design—courtesy of ULTZ’s minimalist yet clever set—gradually humanises the space. As it becomes adorned with bright window frames, a satellite dish, and potted plants, it increasingly mirrors what the neighbours consider home, which amplifies its threat. Resisting straightforward explanation, the shack serves as a symbol of intrusion, fragility and the unspoken tensions beneath the estate’s surface.
The performances are equally compelling. Sifiso Mazibuko’s portrayal of Sihle captures the internal conflict of a man torn between ambition and authenticity, while Mimî M Khayisa imbues Bonolo with a brittle poise that conceals her underlying vulnerability. The white characters, though rendered with less complexity, serve as effective vehicles for examining the hypocrisies of privilege and quotidian racial and neighbourly dynamics.
Jephta’s writing is notable for its dual specificity and universality, rooted in the socio-political realities of South Africa yet resonating with broader questions of belonging and exclusion. The shack becomes a potent metaphor for contested spaces, and A Good House interrogates notions of land ownership, identity and the limits of community.
Review by Florence Marling
Featured Image: Camilla Greenwell
For information and tickets visit A Good House – Royal Court
Read Florence’s latest Review: Tara Clerkin Trio: A Sonic Journey Through Bristol’s Avant-Garde Soundscapes, at EartH Hackney on 16 November – Abundant Art
