Based on a play by Paul Slabolepszy, who also wrote the screenplay and stars here, this film presents a look at the turmoil in South Africa. Slabolepszy plays an unemployed racist lout, whose obnoxious behavior and failure to pay his share of the rent cause his housemates to decide to toss
him out. The task of telling Slabolepszy falls on his best friend, Flynn, a milquetoast who idolizes Clint Eastwood. In another part of Johannesburg, Kani, a black man, prepares for his last shift at Rocco's Burger Palace before traveling to his Zulu homeland to see his family, whom he has been
away from for two years. The film cuts back and forth between these characters as Kani carries out his duties as the drive-in's crew chief and the white men go to a party, where Flynn makes shy conversation with a woman only to have her disappear into the back seat of a car for a romp with the
drunken Slabolepszy. Later, with Slabolepszy as a passenger, Flynn heads home on his motorcycle but stops at the nearly deserted Rocco's, claiming engine trouble. The truth is he doesn't want to tell his friend that he has been kicked out and tries to get him to phone one of the other housemates
to receive the news. Meanwhile, Kani, the last person left at Rocco's, is trying to close up. When the pay phone doesn't work and Kani refuses to serve him (insisting that the drive-in is closed), Slabolepszy turns hostile and directs his pent-up wrath toward the black man. Slabolepszy manages to
get a hold of Kani's keys and begins tearing up Rocco's. Flynn sympathizes with Kani, but other than making a few discouraging comments, he does nothing to stop Slabolepszy. After being thoroughly humiliated, Kani attacks Slabolepszy but doesn't slit his throat when the opportunity arises. Later,
while staging an arm-wrestling contest for the keys, Slabolepszy, who now knows that he has lost his home, claps Kani into the handcuffs Flynn uses as a lock for his motorcycle. The vicious racist continues to taunt Kani. When Flynn's protests grow more vehement, Slabolepszy tells him that he's
had his way with the woman that Flynn was so fond of at the party. In a rage, Flynn grabs Kani's knife and stabs and kills Slabolepszy. As the realization of what he has done hits him, the panicked Flynn decides to pin the murder on Kani. "It's not my fault. I didn't do anything," Flynn cries
before running off.
The political message of SATURDAY NIGHT AT THE PALACE is obvious. With the main characters functioning as representatives of the three factions of South African society, the tragedy of apartheid is played out in microcosm at Rocco's Burger Palace. The symbolism is transparent. Slabolepszy is the
heinous proponent of apartheid, Kani is his and its victim, and Flynn represents those South Africans who may be opposed to the institutionalized class system but whose passive acceptance of it allows it to continue. Flynn's final words are an indictment of this latter group. It is their fault,
precisely because they haven't done anything. The problem with the film is not its intent or its political analysis; it is that the characters are such obvious symbols. There is little depth to any of them; as a result, the conflicts between them are not as compelling or tension-filled as they
should be. While it is difficult to argue with Slabolepszy's portrayal of Vince as an unredeemable monster, a more complex depiction might have been more enlightening. Kani, on the other hand, is too decent, too perfect. Black South Africans in the plays of Athol Fugard ("Master Harold and the
Boys," "A Lesson from the Aloes") are real people with both good and bad characteristics. Because of this, their trampled dignity and their struggles to overcome the inhumanity perpetrated upon them affect us much more profoundly. Though Flynn is somewhat complex, he is still more a study in
contradictions than a man with contradictory feelings.
Though director Davies has taken great pains to avoid merely filming a stage play--particularly in the cinematic elements he introduces in the opening section before the conflict at the drive-in--SATURDAY NIGHT AT THE PALACE is occasionally caught with its theatrical roots showing. Too often the
dialog has the well-formed quality that works on stage but that calls too much attention to itself in film. Slabolepszy's play was produced in London's West End and a number of European cities as well as in South Africa. The movie was shown at US festivals in 1987. (Profanity, violence.) leave a comment