South Africans are funny. I know that may sound like a very biased statement. But spend five minutes in the comment section of any major local story and tell me I’m wrong. It does not matter whether the country is dealing with load shedding. A political scandal or someone doing something deeply questionable at a family wedding. Somebody will arrive with a joke that is so specific and perfectly timed that the rest of us can only admire it and move on. So it is rather strange that, not too long ago, local broadcasters reportedly believed comedy was no longer working.
Now Netflix is celebrating ten years in South Africa, and comedy has become one of the clearest examples of how our stories can travel. Burnt Onion Productions, the company behind, How to Ruin Christmas, Seriously Single, Lobola Man and Disaster Holiday, has helped prove that audiences outside the country will watch South African stories without requiring them to become less South African first. Interesting, isn’t it!
For years, the entertainment industry often treated “international appeal” as something that could only be achieved if the local factor was removed. The accents had to be wound down. Cultural references needed explanations and stories had to feel as though they could take place anywhere.
But the problem with making a story suitable for everywhere is that it can start to feel as though it has no home.
The approach that Burnt Onion took was totally different. It’s comedies that lean directly into South African family life. Language. Tradition and the kind of chaos that can only happen in South African gatherings. How to Ruin Christmas gave us weddings, funerals, baby showers and two families constantly trying to survive one another. Lobola Man built its story around a professional lobola negotiator. While Disaster Holiday found its humour in a family holiday that went terribly wrong.
The reason why these stories work is because they are totally relatable. There is always an aunt asking awkward questions. An uncle who has completely misunderstood the assignment. And at least one family member who tries to keep the peace while making everything worse. There is no need to manufacture comedy when a large family has already arrived at the same event with several unresolved issues and access to a microphone.
But it turns out that international audiences recognise the larger emotions too.
Rethabile “Retti” Ramaphakela, who runs Burnt Onion with her siblings Katleho and Tshepo, told the Mail & Guardian that a viewer in India contacted her after watching Disaster Holiday. The viewer rarely watched productions from other countries. Let alone in unfamiliar languages, but still connected with the South African family at the centre of the film. This to me is very interesting. Because it proves that audiences do not need to understand every cultural reference to understand a family.
They get what it feels like to disappoint a parent, compete with a sibling or attend a celebration where everyone is technically behaving but the tension could be cut with a knife. The details may be South African, but the emotions do not require subtitles. Streaming has provided these productions to playa major role and in doing so have been able to find the audience that resonate with them. Ramaphakela said local comedy had struggled to
secure support before Netflix entered the market, with traditional broadcasters moving away from comedy in its purest form.
For those who did not know, Seriously Single was originally intended for cinemas. But then the pandemic came along and disrupted those plans. So Netflix released it globally in 2020. The romantic comedy followed two young Black women navigating dating and friendship in Johannesburg, and its success helped open another path for Burnt Onion’s work. Six years later, Seriously Single Too is on the way, along with Another Disaster Holiday and How to Ruin Diwali: Meet the Parents.
The latter brings Burnt Onion together with The Kandasamys producer Jayan Moodley for a story about an interracial couple whose engagement forces two very different families and cultures into the same space. It arrives on Netflix on 30 October, which should give everyone involved just enough time to regret agreeing to meet the parents. So yes, streaming has not solved every problem in the local entertainment industry. And I totally agree that productions still need sustainable investment. Performers need proper support and there is no way that one successful platform can carry an entire industry.
But I do find it satisfying that local comedy has proved an old assumption wrong. South African stories do not need to hide their languages, customs or family dynamics to reach the world. In fact, those details may be the exact reason people remember them.
Because audiences are not necessarily searching for stories that look like everything else. Sometimes they simply want something honest, funny and human.
And South African families have been providing material for that for generations.
