In Athol Fugard’s Sizwe Banzi is Dead, the setting is a deceptively cheery photo shop in New Brighton, South Africa. Styles, the witty picture taker, begins by spinning us a yarn: he muses behind his paper about his old job at the Ford Factory, the white man, and how he came to acquire his photography studio. Styles is interrupted when a shifty man in a baggy suit by the name of Robert Zwelinzima shuffles onto the stage, clutching a flat cap.

Malcolm Ebose performs Styles’ opening monologue competently: it is a long one to start with, but he quickly gets into his stride. Ebose is best when he is on the move and uses every inch of the Corpus stage to his long-legged advantage. He is often funny, angry, cunning in the space of a minute, rushing around his nervous but determined customer, played by Dami Laoye, making sure not to ask too many questions.

While Zwelinzima is shy, Styles’ photography momentarily transforms his subject into a performer. As he picks his pose and props, the subject has to choose which self to be. Successful man striding on the street? Just take this stick and walk towards the camera. Sizwe Banzi is Dead insistently asks the question about achieving selfhood in relation to, or in spite of, a racist bureaucracy, where apartheid means that for non-whites, every movement is subject to the right stamp on a passbook.

Zwelinzima tells Styles the photo is for his wife back home in King William’s Town. In the letter he declares that his old name, his identity defined by apartheid racism, is finally no more. In other words, Sizwe Banzi is dead. Over the next hour we are presented with the set of events which culminated in Banzi becoming Zwelinzima.

“The tricky monologues were excellently directed and performed”

The South African setting gives the piece its political fire and fury. It was therefore a slight disappointment that both actors didn’t really attempt the distinctive South African accent consistently. Another element which was begging to be used was the camera itself. Director Anunita Chandrasekar treated it as if it was on a tripod: it lay on a wooden stool throughout the play, and felt as if Ebose had been told not to touch it. Why not fling it about to express Styles’ passion for photographing his subject, for bringing to life, however momentarily, their dreams?

Ebose played both Styles the photographer, and Buntu, a friend who gives Banzi a place to live later in the play. I wasn’t sure what decision added. Were we supposed to equate Styles and Buntu somehow? Maybe I missed something. They are very different characters, and I thought some of Styles’ languid wit was lost with the same actor playing the anxious Buntu. Nevertheless, the tricky monologues were excellently directed and performed. Correspondence on stage can often be stilted, as it attempts to imitate a voice-over in a film. But Banzi’s epistles to his wife and four children are heartfelt and emotional under the white spotlight.

Sizwe Banzi is Dead is a slick show and deserves a good audience. Chandrasekar’s production eloquently unpicks the fundamental tensions within the script with only two men, one hour and the Corpus Playroom to work with.

Sizwe Bansi Is Dead is on in the Corpus Playroom until February 10