As Netflix celebrates a decade in South Africa, one genre stands out as an unexpected powerhouse: comedy. In an industry where traditional broadcasters long claimed comedy didn't work, the streaming giant and its production partners have proved otherwise.
Leading the charge is Burnt Onion Productions, run by siblings Rethabile "Retti" Ramaphakela (creative director), Katleho "Katt" Ramaphakela (managing director) and Tshepo Ramaphakela (general manager). Through titles such as How to Ruin Christmas, Lobola Man and Disaster Holiday, the production company has helped define a new era of local storytelling.
With three titles — Seriously Single Too, Another Disaster Holiday and How to Ruin Diwali: Meet The Parents, — lined up for release this year, including a collaboration with producer Jayan Moodley (The Kandasamys), launching on 30 October, Burnt Onion is heading into a busy summer.
Speaking to the Mail & Guardian during Netflix's 10th Year Anniversary press showcase, Retti reflected on why comedy resonates with South African audiences.
"We literally grew up watching comedies," she says. "I bet you I can ask you and you could name comedies you grew up watching. What's great about comedy is comedy is drama, except it makes you laugh at the situation."
For Retti, the ability to offer an escape is part of comedy's appeal.
"You could have had the worst day of your life at work but you can switch on the television and for that 30 minutes or that movie or whatever, you can forget about your problems and go on this wild journey."
She recalls receiving a message from someone in India after Disaster Holiday was released in 2024. The viewer told her they rarely watched content from other countries, particularly when it was not in their language but had nevertheless connected with the South African family at the centre of the film.
"They got to go on holiday with this family and they loved it. And I think that's exactly it."
South Africans, Retti adds, have a particular relationship with humour.
"Let's be honest, South Africans are funny. I'm starting to get very jealous because you just go through a comment section on a post and you're just like: 'How are these people so much more?' I've started to be scared to comment because I'm like: 'I'm not as funny as everyone else.'"
That sense of humour also informs Burnt Onion's approach to storytelling. The company often takes familiar South African family experiences and cultural milestones and turns them on their heads, creating stories that are funny because audiences recognise themselves in them.
"Most of what the stories we tell is also a preservation of our culture and history," Retti says.
She points to Lobola Man, which centres on a professional lobola negotiator, as an example of how the company finds comedy in cultural practices while treating them with care.
"We really like to turn things on its head. There's something extremely beautiful about our cultures and how it's all lived through. When I create a story, I'm also kind of doing the learning for myself."
That means exploring the tension between tradition and modernity.
"We live in a very modern world and it's like you straddle the line between tradition and modernity. You can have views about things but to understand what's at the core of them is what we do."
At the heart of Burnt Onion's work is the idea of finding community.
"I want to show that we can be diverse. We can be different. But we always can find a way to come together. So I always say, like all our stories, especially in the How to Ruin franchise, it's about finding your tribe, no matter what that tribe looks like."
In Seriously Single, that tribe is a group of friends. In How to Ruin Christmas, it is two different families forced to come together. In Disaster Holiday, it is a family negotiating the familiar frustrations and expectations of a holiday together.
Some of the most rewarding responses to Burnt Onion's work come when audiences recognise themselves in characters, Retti says.
"I saw quite a few men tweeting or writing: 'Oh, my gosh, I really relate to the father because he works hard and he's trying to.'"
There is, she says, something powerful about seeing a father recognise his own desire to provide for his family in a character on screen.
"That's a beautiful thing to see."
Netflix's arrival in South Africa has helped create more space for these kinds of stories.
Before streaming took off, Retti says, local comedy was struggling to find a home.
"It definitely has changed the appetite because I can tell you, pre-Netflix entering the market, we were struggling to make comedies again. The local broadcasters had stopped making comedies in its purest form."
Burnt Onion independently produced Seriously Single, which was originally intended for cinema. When the Covid-19 pandemic shut theatres, the film found a home on Netflix.
The experience helped convince the company that there was an audience for local comedy on a global platform. Then came How to Ruin Christmas.
"We were scared because Netflix had released only Blood and Water and what else had come out at the time. There were very serious shows. And we were like: 'Are people going to watch this?'"
The concern was heightened by how specifically South African the show was.
"It felt very black, if I may say that, for the first time on Netflix, seeing something so African, people speaking their languages," Retti says. "It spoke about a traditional wedding and a normal white wedding. It sort of really delved into culture."
The show's success demonstrated that audiences did not necessarily need local stories to be stripped of their cultural specificity before they could travel.
"It just showed that there's definitely an appetite for comedy. And that's why we'll make all sorts of comedies, rom-coms, family comedies."
She recalls a year when the South African Film and Television Awards did not have a comedy category.
"I remember being like: 'Guys, that cannot be the way that we're living now.' And now the Saftas have so many comedies in the category. It's so refreshing to see. I definitely think we created a new appetite."
For Retti, however, the success of South African comedy is about telling familiar stories from a specific cultural perspective.
"What makes a story universal is its authenticity."
Disaster Holiday, for example, is a familiar story: a family goes on a road trip.
Retti acknowledges that audiences have seen versions of the premise in films such as Are We There Yet? and Johnson Family Vacation. "But we've never seen a South African black family go on a road trip."
The details are what make the story specific. A trip to Durban is different from an American family road trip. A stop at a township is different. The family dynamics, language, cultural references and small frustrations belong to a particular place.
"For me, it's about capturing these authentic family moments."
That philosophy will be tested in How to Ruin Diwali: Meet The Parents, which brings a black South African family into an Indian family's Diwali celebrations.
"I don't think a lot of black South Africans know what Diwali is about and what that experience is like," Retti says.
"We brought in a black family into an Indian family and it's just going to be absolute chaos because it's like one learning about the other."
The result, she hopes, will be funny and illuminating.
"It was an opportunity to just show something so different yet beautiful."
As Netflix marks its first decade in South Africa, Burnt Onion's track record offers an interesting lesson about the relationship between the local and the universal.
A story does not necessarily have to become less South African to connect with audiences elsewhere. Sometimes its specificity is precisely what gives it reach.
"That's what makes a story universal," Retti says.
"At its heart, it's about these families going through something. But what makes them travel and trend is the fact that it was so specific to that country and that place."
Perhaps that is the most important shift of all: South African audiences no longer have to choose between seeing themselves on screen and seeing stories that can travel.
"That's what I love about Netflix as well," Retti says, "is how stories can travel."