Netphlix, Theatre
Venue: Victoria Girls’ High School Gymnasium
Next performance: Tuesday, 01 July 14:00
Review
By Sayuri Persotham
You never know what to expect from a one-person show—only that you need to be ready for anything. Still, Sophie Joans leaves the room breathless with her production Netphlix—a biting blend of comedy and critique. In just 52 minutes, Joans parodies Netflix’s best, from Breaking Bad to Sex Education. Her witty reworking of familiar fan-favourites brings a theatrical flair to the current media landscape. She captures exactly what every viewer is thinking, playing the actor, director, and most memorably, herself.
Though occasionally a bit rough around the edges, Joans’ performance is undeniably meant to delight viewers—and I’ve never seen a more transfixed audience. Her skilled improvisation and command of the crowd define Joans as a true theatre bunny. A few lucky members stepped onto the stage to perform alongside the artist, while the rest of us hung onto her every word—a wholly immersive theatre experience. Joans says, “Theatre is AI-proof and a no-phone zone. Algorithms, social media—all of it separates us from humanity, and that’s what makes theatre so important today.”
Joans leans into the ‘starving artist’s’ arc, emphasising the sleepless nights, financial worry, and endless hours of stress behind theatre-making. Let it be known that this is a willing endeavour! “I’m very much aware that this notion of ‘support the arts’ sometimes makes us look like a charity. Theatre is not the SPCA of media. I’ve had more healing work done in one hour of a good play than through years of therapy. Let the arts support you.”
Beneath Netphlix’s good-natured humour lies a deeper exploration of media homogenisation and binge culture. Comedy acts as an emotional support blanket, softening the bleak truth: Netflix is a noose around the necks of creatives.
Humans are inherently drawn to the magic of storytelling—but what we consume matters. Take the South African Netflix production, Blood and Water, for example: Karabo “KB” Molapo barely touches his American-style breakfast of flapjacks and orange juice before leaving a lavish Camps Bay mansion. How many South Africans resonate with this experience? The scene itself is an apt metaphor for Netflix’s minimising and erasure of other cultures to fit the American standard.
The reality, Joans says, is: “Sometimes you get a great show that’s really truthful. But by and large, it’s clickbaity, compulsive, next episode, next episode…binge spree.”
If I haven’t sold you on a ticket already— see for yourself the wonderfully unhinged madness of ‘Netphlix’.
