In It Together Written by Catherine Zulver Directed by Imogen Prossor BATS Theatre, 16th Oct Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Three 20-somethings try to sort their lives out in a paddling pool installed in their lounge whilst drinking copious amounts of gin. Fran (Jayne Grace) acts as ‘mama bear’, looking out for ‘the middle child’ Kate (Catherine Zulver) and their new flatmate Daniella (Charlotte Thomas), ‘the runt’. Though the women are friends and flatmates, they behave more like a family. Their relationship is dysfunctional and totally charming.

With a little bit of fat trimmed off its bones, In It Together could be a spectacular work. Originally staged as a 10-minute piece in the Short+Sweet Festival, Zulver has done an excellent job of extending the work – but I’d argue it could lose 20 minutes. Cutting it down to an hour would prevent the action dragging in the middle section and the main event losing its impact.

On to the main event. The climax of the play comes from one character’s decision to have an abortion, which is met by a resistance from her friend that dismays me. Personal views aside, it seems odd that the crux of a feminist work would be a relationship breakdown resulting from an issue that women already cop so much flack for. It’s sad to see such fantastic females and friends pitted against each other onstage in response to it too.

Performance-wise, the actors’ chemistry is convincing and touching. Grace is a feisty matriarch, conducting everyday conversation in a no-fuss, professional manner that takes a while to warm to, but soon delights. Zulver brings layers of understanding to her role, presenting a façade that’s as messy and complex as it is confident and natural. Just like her character, Thomas grounds her castmates. Her performance appears effortless, with a filthy drunken look and a statement about pyjamas being a show highlight.

In It Together shines in its depiction of sisterhood. I don’t think it quite hits the nail on the head for its emotional exploration, but it’s fun, funny, and a pleasure to watch.

Johannes Moser Plays Shostakovich Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Peter Oundjian Michael Fowler Centre, 13th Oct Reviewed by Tamsin Evans and Jennie Jones

Coming off a week of performances, the NZSO hardly needed to warm up with Borodin’s Overture to Prince Igor, but it was a great start to a big Russian programme.

Conductor Peter Oundjian, cellist Johannes Moser, and the NZSO were all in superb form and it showed from the opening notes of Shostakovich’s Cello Concerto No.1 in E flat major. Like Mstislav Rostropovich, for whom Shostakovich wrote the concerto, Moser played the whole work from memory. And what a memory. It looked and sounded like a fiendishly difficult piece with a conventional concerto form (four movements) with unconventional elements. Moser stormed his way through the first two movements, well supported by a French horn as ‘assistant’ soloist building up to the third movement – a cadenza. Unusually the composer wrote a fully notated, very technically demanding cadenza and put it in place of the usual third movement. It was a brilliant opportunity for Moser to shine. Regrouping for the final movement, the orchestra led us – with prominent and high-powered cello – to an all-encompassing and energetic finale. It was a stunning performance.

In the second half, we heard a longer than usual selection from the ballet Romeo and Juliet by Prokofiev. Anyone with only a smattering of knowledge of the story would have been able to follow this highly cinematic piece. The narrative came through strongly and even the unfamiliar segments told their part of the story quite clearly.

Guest conductors always add an element of intrigue to the audience experience. The merits of one director’s style as opposed to another will obviously be more apparent to the players than the listeners. For this performance, even the audience could sense the orchestra and conductor were impeccably matched. Oundijan’s direction appeared sensitive, directive, explicit, and precise, and the orchestra responded beautifully. It was a long performance but one worth every note.

Under Milk Wood Written by Dylan Thomas Directed by Ross Jolly Running at Circa Theatre until 10th Nov Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Though I’d heard of Under Milk Wood, I had never been privy to the tale, and so approached this stage adaptation with fresh eyes.

In the fictional seaside Welsh village of Llareggub, townsfolk gossip and pry, withhold and let be, wake and dream. In short, they live. Evocatively narrated by Jeffrey Thomas and John Bach with spectacular AV design by Johanna Sanders, this slice-of-life production features over 60 characters played by just five actors. Kathleen Burns, Jeff Kingsford-Brown, Simon Leary, Carmel McGlone, and Gavin Rutherford mined all manner of personalities for comedic gold.

The most memorable characters for me were Leary’s boldly nosy postman and Kingsford-Brown’s deliciously murderous husband. Rutherford’s sermons and drunken escapades (as two respective characters, unfortunately) were a highlight, while McGlone’s obsessively hygienic widow often had me chuckling aloud.

For the most part, the actors did a fantastic job of differentiating between their various roles, seamlessly and instantly shifting from one character to the next. They were aided in part by Sheila Horton’s costume design, but the little clues Horton dropped weren’t always enough – particularly in the case of Burns’ performance. Although her ballad mesmerised (what a voice!), the energy she brought was the same across the board, causing all of her characters to blur into one.

Because Under Milk Wood is much more of a character study than a plot-driven narrative, clarity is essential. My companion was unable to follow the action at all, and I lost my place at times.

On the other hand, if I had to get lost in a work, I’m glad it was this one. Thomas’ language is incomparable, creating something closer to a living, breathing poem than a play. The dreaminess of it all afforded me a blissful escape. I could close my eyes and listen to Gareth Farr’s ethereal compositions for hours while Marcus McShane’s lighting design dances across my eyelids, conjuring images of a dusk, dawn, and day spent under Milk Wood.

Piers Lane & Hiroshi Ikematsu with Members of the NZSQ Presented by Chamber Music New Zealand Michael Fowler Centre, 11th October Reviewed by Dawn Brook

Hiroshi Ikematsu (double bass) told the Chamber Music New Zealand audience that when Rossini wrote the Duo for Cello and Double Bass in D major in 1824, he was writing for a rockstar double bass player and an amateur cellist. You know what to expect, he implied. Cellist Rolf Gjelsten looked dubious. What followed was a delightful musical duel accompanied by high jinks: Ikematsu playing on one leg and Gjelsten scratching his nose. Who won? Dead heat, I’d say.

Piers Lane (piano), Gillian Ansell (viola), Monique Lapins (violin), and Gjelsten also had fun playing Schubert’s Adagio and Rondo Concertante. It had the feel of an exuberant piano virtuoso being indulged by a group of strings players, patiently, but beautifully, providing responses to and support for the star. It was a charming performance.

The concert then moved to two works evoking trout and trout rivers, both composed for the unusual grouping of piano, a single violin, viola, cello, and double bass. The first was New Zealander Ross Harris’ newly commissioned work Orowaru (the rippling sound of water). Orowaru was composed to evoke the sounds of trout fishing rivers around Turangi. It was magic from the first notes; gossamer threads of watery sound overlaid with suggestions of sparkling sunlight or rising trout to evoke Hineaiaia Stream. There was a strong sense of the three rivers – Waipehi Stream and the Tongariro being the other two – now gentle, now robust; the creatures in and around them going about their business, unperturbed by the rest of the world.

Orowaru was appropriately complemented by Schubert’s Trout Quintet, composed 199 years previously. Each player shone momentarily as the lead shifted, but it was the totality of the ensemble that impressed. Such beautiful, expressive, and graceful playing, with a wonderful balance and sympathy between players.

This concert was a gem.

Uneasy Dreams and Other Things Written by Lori Leigh Directed by Sara Brodie Running at Circa Theatre until 27th Oct Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Sam (Lydia Peckham) and Greg (Matthew Staijen-Leach) are (sort of) happily married, until Sam wakes up with a penis.

Lori Leigh’s Uneasy Dreams and Other Things is inspired by Kafka’s The Metamorphosis, the story of a travelling salesman who wakes up one night as an insect. I sorely wish I’d read the programme before I watched the play. Without that knowledge, it’s easy to get confused by Uneasy Dreams; the thread between insect and human is all but discarded in favour of the thread between woman and man. Insects are referenced explicitly only at the very beginning and end of the play, making the link feel tenuous, but still distracting me and my companion.

There are a million things this work does brilliantly. Leigh’s considered exploration of relationships – between individuals and sexes – is expressed in a gorgeous language bordering on lyricism. The script shines in its integration of little insights and passing thoughts, which tumble out of Reta’s (Sam’s best friend, played by Johanna Cosgrove) mouth with oft-delicious crudity. All of the performances are excellent, with the cast – which is rounded out by Arlo Gibson – equally matched in energy, commitment, and talent.

Sara Brodie manages to seamlessly entwine surrealism and realism, communicating the passage of time clearly but without interruption.

The complete stage picture is stunning, due in large part to Tabitha Arthur’s evocative photography design (AV by Tane Hipango) and Harriet Denby’s dreamy, cluttered set. The interior of the couple’s flat puts me in mind of a bohemian paradise depicted in a black and white film. My favourite scene is breathtaking: Sam and Greg hold each other and dream as the lights (Jennifer Lal) fade into a golden glow cast over their faces.

Special mention must be made to the live band (Liam Kelly, Peter Scriven, and Gibson), who set the vibe of the show with buckets of grungey energy. Kelly and Scriven’s sound design is clever and charming, complementing the action at every turn.

Venom (M) 112 Mins ★ ★ Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

Walking out of Venom, I had more questions than answers. Why does Venom look so scary and gross if he’s a good guy? Doesn’t Michelle Williams have more interesting acting gigs to pursue? And why, in 2018, are the major studios still peddling a gotta-save-the-human-race narrative as something worth our time?

Venom tells the rather convoluted tale of reporter Eddie Brock (Tom Hardy), who gets infected with an alien symbiote while investigating a string of mysterious deaths within San Francisco’s homeless population. The alien parasite, Venom, persuades Brock to form an alliance so that he can experience human life – and in return, Brock can enjoy his superhuman abilities. He soon discovers that Venom is slowly rotting his insides, but before he can wave goodbye to the alien forever, he must use their combined powers to defeat evil CEO Carlton Drake (Riz Ahmed).

The film, which is Sony Productions’ first foray into the Marvel universe, is pretty bonkers. The closing stunt of Venom involves a lot of leaping around a space probe while it is in the process of launching. Unfortunately, the action is rather unconvincing and not a little tedious – largely because despite a great number of beheadings, we don’t see a drop of blood. At times, Venom flirts with a kind of superhero body horror that I wish it had pursued further. I mean, what’s special about Venom? That disgusting two-foot tongue, that’s what.

The burly Hardy has a certain charm as a mumbly, well-intentioned journalist, but the writing doesn’t allow for him to lean hard into his natural charisma. He sits between hero and anti-hero, and as such, isn’t a particularly memorable character. Even more dismaying is that every single female character is a perfunctory plot device. Williams does admirably as Brock’s love interest Anne Weying, but her skill can’t entirely hide the shoddy script.

Venom is silly without being fun, complicated without holding any nuance. Even Marvel fans might want to give this mediocre entry into the canon a miss.

Blonde Poison Written by Gail Louw Directed by Paul Gittins Circa Theatre, 2nd Oct Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

In war-torn Berlin, Stella Goldschlag (Elizabeth Hawthorne) must make a choice: turn her fellow Jews into the Gestapo (secret state police) to protect her parents and escape WWII with her life, or face deportation to Auschwitz with her family and a clean conscience.

Goldschlag chose the former, a decision that catches up with her in Blonde Poison. Some 50 years after the war, she agrees to an interview with a journalist from her past. He is to arrive at Stella’s home at 10:50am. It’s 9:04am, and, pre-empting his questions, she begins to relay the events that led to her moniker ‘Blonde Poison’.

The script is slow to start, convoluted, and tangential until about the half-way mark. Louw’s aim is clearly to build a complete picture of Stella, but this is to the playwright’s detriment; we learn that the blonde beauty is narcissistic, anti-Semitic towards unassimilated Jews, and considers herself, a mass-murderess, the victim. If the goal is to foster sympathy for Stella, the details in the script are the devil here. I lose any shred of compassion I have left for the character when I find out she took pleasure in outing Jews to the Gestapo.

If the goal is instead to ask the audience what we would have done, which the mirror centre stage (design by John Parker) suggests, I would argue that illuminating the ugliness of Stella’s personality serves against this too. I’m by no means perfect, but it’s still hard to put myself in the shoes of someone I consider to be so horrible, regardless of their circumstances. Though I don’t think the script succeeds in its purpose, it is beautifully written and does add nuance to an otherwise one-sided, monochromatic conversation.

Elizabeth Hawthorne carries the work and is phenomenal. She inhabits her character wholly, demonstrating the complete spectrum of human emotion with a mastery of her craft that is almost overwhelming to watch. Her performance in Blonde Poison should be lauded to the high hills and back again.

Medusa Created by Nisha Madhan, Julia Croft, and Virginia Frankovich Running at Circa Theatre until 6th Oct Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

At Regional News, we usually begin our reviews with a plot summary. Medusa has no plot, nor do I think it’s the kind of show that should be reviewed. It’s a show that you have to experience to understand, but it’s likely even then you won’t understand it. Like me, you might not enjoy it either – but I think that’s entirely the point.

Three performers (Nisha Madhan, Julia Croft, and Virginia Frankovich) stare at the audience in an uncomfortable opening segment that feels like it goes on for hours. They then take the squeaky platform stage erected in the middle of the ordinary one (superb performance design by Meg Rollandi) and speak in chorus into three microphones, gradually fragmenting their collective voice until their words come in succession. Their voices modulate, undulate, pulse, throb into a demonic harmony. Though it’s impossible to distil the subject of the conversation, it feels to me like a satire of convention: theatrical, narrative, structural, patriarchal, and other.

Then the situation escalates – screaming and strobes ensue (lighting design by Calvin Hudson) before the performers emerge clad in pleather and smash the stage apart. They then bathe in clay.

Conversing with the audience after the show, I discovered that a lot of people loved Medusa and a few hated it. I’ve been attempting to corroborate my thoughts all weekend and have decided I sit somewhere in the middle, but here’s the thing: I’m still thinking about Medusa. And I believe everyone who saw it alongside me will be too. It’s hard to forget and shouldn’t be forgotten. It is awesome – and I mean that in the traditional sense of the word, awe-inducing – to see such a violently feminist work on such a mainstream stage.

However, I feel like Medusa needs a lot more work. As it stands, it feels like an experiment and not a production. I also think that a stronger thread to Medusa needs to be woven – a little bit of coherency would validate the anarchy.

Christopher Robin (G) 104 Mins ★ ★ ★ Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

In this new live action film from Disney, AA Milne’s Christopher Robin (Ewan McGregor) is all grown up, and life isn’t so magical. Just like the honey that Pooh Bear (Jim Cummings) loves so much, Christopher Robin is very sweet – but slow to get moving, and a little sickly at points.

In post-WWII London, Robin works as an ‘efficiency expert’ for a company specialising in train luggage. Once an imaginative young boy, he’s now a workaholic who can’t take time out of his busy schedule for a weekend in the country with his wife Evelyn (Hayley Atwell) and bubbly young daughter Madeline (Bronte Carmichael). Evelyn signals that she wants Robin to shape up or ship out, but before he has a chance to react, Pooh Bear whisks him away to the Hundred Acre Wood. There, his old friends Pooh, Eeyore, Piglet, and Tigger remind him of the value of friendship and family.

With its gentle, old-fashioned tone, Christopher Robin owes a great deal to the wonderful Paddington films – but it isn’t quite as good, unfortunately. Its plot – adult becomes lost in the mundanities of adulthood – is a tired one, complete with the tropes of a golf-playing boss and a presentation that is suddenly due right now. Moreover, it moves at a sluggish pace and leans heavily on Winnie the Pooh nostalgia; mums and dads in the audience might well up with happy tears as Pooh brushes his paw through heather, but little ones are likely to be less entertained.

That said, everyone’s trying their best. McGregor’s still-boyish face and acting chops are perfect for this role. Comedian Brad Garrett’s deadpan voice acting performance as Eeyore is a humorous highlight. And hearing Cummings once again voice the famous honey-loving bear (he voiced Pooh in several TV and film productions in the 1990s) really is lovely.

Christopher Robin is a good school holidays pick, even for very young children. Its light touch and tight cast make for a charming watch, but Christopher Robin is far from an instant classic.

Mrs Krishnan’s Party Written by Justin Lewis and Jacob Rajan Directed by Justin Lewis Te Auaha, 19th Sep Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Mrs Krishnan (Kalyani Nagarajan) is thinking of selling the beloved Krishnan’s Dairy. It’s a good time to sell, but it’s also Onam, which is a good time for a party. Her boarder James (Justin Rogers), aka ‘DJ Jimmy J’, has planned a huge surprise for ‘Mrs K’ – but she is in no mood to join in the festivities.

A sequel of sorts to the wildly successful Krishnan’s Dairy, Mrs Krishnan’s Party is quite different to Indian Ink’s past works – and indeed, to every other work I’ve seen to date. It’s an interactive, immersive experience in which audience members are positioned as guests. Some are even seated around the dinner table, while others help to cook dal, a traditional Indian dish that smells delicious. Unfortunately, James’ accidental addition of an unsavoury ingredient rather puts us off the meal…

Unlike other Indian Ink productions (I’m thinking of the Pickle King in particular), I wouldn’t say that Mrs Krishnan’s Party shredded my heartstrings; only that it gently plucked them occasionally. I have found Indian Ink’s plays to strike a delicate balance between comedy and tragedy, hitting that sweet spot that makes you laugh and cry simultaneously. Perhaps because I haven’t seen Krishnan’s Dairy and never met Gobi (which I aim to rectify as soon as possible), I didn’t feel the full emotional impact of Mrs Krishnan’s circumstances. I did however fall in love with her – she’s a strong and steadfast character, played with sass and sophistication by the brilliant, born-performer Nagarajan.

Rogers is a natural MC with an irresistible charm. Together they make a dream team, guiding us through unfamiliar territory with ease. They also handle the audience with sensitivity, pushing the limits of acceptable decorum (hilariously, I might add) but never crossing the line.

Ultimately, Mrs Krishan’s Party is a wonderful, wholly engaging work. If you want to escape your life for 75 minutes, whether you’ve seen Krishnan’s Dairy or not, you must see this play.

Classical Hits Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Hamish McKeich Michael Fowler Centre, 15th Sep Reviewed by Dawn Brook

Over the nine days before this concert, the NZSO performed the Classical Hits programme six times throughout the North Island. Was there any sign that the NZSO was jaded and bored? Not a bit of it! The concert was delivered with rigour, energy, and commitment.

The programme opened with Schubert’s Unfinished Symphony, so-called because Schubert completed only two movements rather than the four of the standard symphonic form. The conductor and orchestra delivered a performance with a wonderfully controlled range of dynamic contrasts and beautiful balance between strings and woodwind.

Tchaikovsky’s Variations on a Rococo Theme followed, with the solo part played by NZSO’s principal cellist, Andrew Joyce. A challenging work, it provides the soloist with every opportunity to display virtuosic technical skills and produce the dynamic range and strong and mellow singing tones the cello is capable of. With apparent ease and without undue flamboyance (though with delightful moments of playfulness), Andrew Joyce delivered technically and musically. The audience was spellbound.

Tucked into the ‘hits’ programme, somewhat oddly, was a premiere of New Zealander Gillian Whitehead’s Turanga-nui, commissioned to mark the 250th anniversary of Cook’s landfall in New Zealand and encounters with tangata whenua. Initially, the beautiful and strange soundscape evoked a welcoming natural environment with an underlying sense of unease. The subsequent injection of martial bugles and marching rhythms reflected the conflict which occurred near Gisborne in 1769. Throughout, the composer suggested the feelings she thought Cook and Māori might have had: relief and elation at the sight of land, apprehension, wonder, curiosity, fear. This was beautiful and moving music, subtly performed.

The programme was rounded out with Debussy’s Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune and Tchaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet Fantasy Overture. They made a nice contrast, the former dreamlike, sensual, and impressionistic, the latter full of drama, romantic love, and tragedy.

Borodin Quartet Presented by Chamber Music New Zealand Michael Fowler Centre, 13th Sep Reviewed by Dawn Brook

The Borodin Quartet is one of the most esteemed string quartets in the world. The Russian quartet has existed since 1945, played at the funerals of both Stalin and Prokofiev, and their study of Shostakovich quartets was supervised by the great composer himself. This lineage inspires audiences no less than it must inspire the current players themselves. Wellington’s audience gave the performance rapt attention.

Haydn’s quartet Op 33 No 1 was composed in 1781 and Shostakovich’s Quartet No 9 in 1964. Haydn was the first to develop the string quartet form and Shostakovich’s quartets are towering monuments in the subsequent development of the form. The second half comprised another quartet – No 1 – by Russian composer Tchaikovsky, and Viennese Hugo Wolf’s Italian Serenade, both from the second half of the 19th century.

Throughout, the Borodin Quartet demonstrated its trademark qualities of restraint, clarity and purity of tone, and balance. The quartet does not wear its heart on its sleeve; there is very little visible communication between the players and there is a physical stillness that is striking and even a bit unnerving. Audiences have become used to chamber music musicians who look more spontaneous and more involved in the music they are making. However, the extraordinary technical skills of the players were on full display, with the works providing opportunities for each to shine. Viola player Igor Naidin and cellist Vladimir Bashin produced a glorious and full tone at appropriate times, and first violinist Ruben Aharonian produced a miraculously sweet tone with a stunning economy of effort.

All the works were beautifully played with a consistent and precise sound. Of the four works, however, one would have to highlight Shostakovich’s. It was a convincing and enthralling performance, with the quartet’s restrained style allowing the work’s qualities and structure to speak for themselves and be fully appreciated.

The Addams Family Music and lyrics by Andrew Lippa Book by Marshall Brickman and Rick Elice Directed by Leigh Evans Te Auaha, 7th Sep Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

The excitement is palpable as the lights dim, then swirl and flash a rainbow of hues. A sickly green pattern spirals on the floor and thunder cracks as gasps and clicks ensue. The Addams Family Theme has started, and the crowd literally goes wild. It’s a fantastic set-up courtesy of a number of parties – Joshua Tucker’s lighting design accentuates Ben Emerson’s eye-catching set, while Evans’ choreography sees the family creeping from the shadows, adding to the anticipation.

Opening with a big number (the now perpetually stuck-in-my-head When You’re an Addams) this cast of Te Auaha Musical Theatre students demonstrates equal parts showmanship, talent, energy, and control. It’s a balancing act they carry out with poise throughout their first full-scale musical. Although the audience is frenzied, they never let the electric atmosphere get to them, commanding every moment both as individuals and as a collective.

The standout performers for me are Flora Dryburgh (playing Wednesday Addams), whose powerful rendition of Pulled shows excellent technique and potential; Greer Samuel, who plays matriarch Morticia Addams with otherworldly elegance and aplomb; and Frances Leota (playing the ‘ordinary’ Alice Beineke), who nearly steals the show when she lets her hair down in Waiting. Mia Alonso-Green does a fantastic job as Gomez Addams, maintaining a steady accent punctuated with a giggle that I find quite charming. Playing zombie butler Lurch, Ben Paterson delivers a showstopping moment in Move Toward the Darkness.

Jake Elston’s performance as Uncle Fester is inconsistent and needs to come up in terms of energy. As unofficial narrator, the show rides on his ability to drive the story forward. However, his love for Moon (Veronica Grace) is lovely to behold.

Te Auaha’s Musical Theatre students should be proud of themselves for this polished, professional production. They have more than done my favourite misfit family justice, lovingly conjuring a “mysterious and spooky” world to escape into. I left feeling joyful, and highly recommend The Addams Family to all.

Leave No Trace (PG) 109 Mins ★ ★ ★ ★ Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

Leave No Trace opens with extended shots of a dense forest. It’s wet, intensely green, it could be New Zealand – but it’s not; it’s the USA’s Pacific Northwest. We see glimmering spiderwebs, prisms of light inside waterdrops, leaves shaking from the impact of nearby footsteps. Director Debra Granik’s third feature is a remarkable character study, not just of the two creatures that inhabit the film, but of the forest that holds them.

War veteran Will (Ben Foster) lives off the grid with his young teenage daughter, Tom (Thomasin Harcourt McKenzie). The pair live on public land outside of Portland, foraging for mushrooms, collecting rainwater, and conducting drills to keep them safe from feral dogs. They seem happy, even thriving, in their invisible existence, although the roving camera never lets us forget its harshness. Money comes and goes, largely via the drug dealers Will sells his PTSD medication to. One unlucky day, police and social services crash into their makeshift tarpaulin home and whisk them away to a rural commune where they both must adjust to a roof over their heads.

Harcourt McKenzie (daughter of New Zealand theatre matriarch Miranda) gives an understated, stunning performance. She expresses reams of emotions with vocal tremors and the kind of embarrassing crying where your chin wobbles. The relationship between her and Will is tender, lovely, utterly trusting – acting work you know took weeks to develop in rehearsal.

While the themes of Leave No Trace are urgent, the pace of the film is anything but. It’s the sort of movie that rewards half an hour of patience – and before you know it, your heart’s aching a little; you’re in the forest with them. Essentially, this story of a father and his daughter is about a broken man, broken America, and the quiet happiness that comes with the support of a community.

Quiet, steady, and shot through with pain, Leave No Trace is a universal tale as tragic as it is hopeful.

Modern Girls in Bed Written by Cherie Jacobson and Alex Lodge Directed by Rachel Lenart Running at Circa Theatre until 22nd Sep Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Conceptually, Modern Girls in Bed is brilliant. Two millennials in the midst of a ‘bed-in’ (because life sucks, actually) suddenly discover their place of protest is already occupied. Kate Sheppard (Amy Tarleton), Heni Pore (Bronwyn Turei), Katherine Mansfield (Alex Lodge), and Helen Hitchings (Renée Sheridan) wait under the covers, ready to farcically emerge and scare the living daylights out of Ally (Maria Williams) and Petra (Isadora Lao).

And so, revolutionary women of their time are confronted by the ideals of ours. It’s a fantastic premise that could be moulded into a superb work, but this is a play of two halves. I’m sad to say that I found the second act convoluted and unnecessary.

In act two, emotional backstories are awkwardly introduced. Suddenly, the audience is meant to care about previously two-dimensional, every-second-word-she-says-is-‘actually’ Ally. We’re also obliged to invest in her ailing mother, whom we don’t meet until the very end. The loveliest, most tender scene in the play comes when Ally’s mother (Sheridan) reads to her in bed – but it’s too little, too late for me.

The last scene is also when I realise that Ally has fathomed all of the characters in act one’s bed-in, drawing parallels between them and her aunties, because of the books she’s been reading during her depression. This would have been a wonderful opportunity to hear passages about the other historical figures in the play, but for some reason, all we get is a Katherine Mansfield piece. What about the other women? The nurse too feels arbitrary – though Maia Diamond’s performance is good, the play could have done without this character entirely.

Another scene that stumps me is a surreal episode involving trees, which feels wholly disjointed and jarring.

While Modern Girls in Bed boasts some fantastic performances – Lodge and Tarleton both have me giggling aloud at points – it requires a lot of refinement to reach its full potential.

Kororāreka: The Ballad of Maggie Flynn Written by Paolo Rotondo Directed by Julie Nolan Hannah Playhouse, 28th Aug Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Kororāreka was the first capital of New Zealand. Referred to internationally as “the hellhole of the Pacific”, the wild region is now the quaint, romantic Russell. Paolo Rotondo's Kororāreka: The Ballad of Maggie Flynn sheds light on our history, with the playwright asking “how do we know who we are if we don’t even know where we come from?” While I learned what Kororāreka was, I would say the work left me with a much greater impression of character than place.

An amalgam of historical figures, Maggie Flynn (the young version of whom is played by Victoria Abbott, the older by Alison Bruce) is a feisty Irishwoman whose husband, Captain Riley, dies aboard a whaling ship. As the new (notably female) captain, Maggie docks in Kororāreka, where she falls in love with Chief Mata (Hinerongonui Kingi). The Chief’s sister (Amber Curreen) desperately wants to procure muskets, which her brother knows will be his demise.

Red Leap Theatre have created a stunning production out of this play. Exquisitely devised and flawlessly executed, there are many arresting moments that leave me breathless. The cast (rounded off by Katrina George) spring from one character to the next with ease and flair, their talent a joy to witness. Brief interludes of harmonious waiata send tingles up my spine, though I would have loved to have seen them performed with more confidence. Each cast member boasts a lovely voice.

Up until a significant death, Rotondo’s script is expertly crafted, energetically pulsing with equal parts exposition, drive, and character development. But after the shift in time, it hurtles forward faster than a derailed freight train. The last ten minutes feel hasty, as if there’s a time limit on the work that must be honoured. Kororāreka: The Ballad of Maggie Flynn screeches to a halt and I leave feeling as if I could have easily watched a second half – as if the story, though tied in a bow, is incomplete.

Stravinsky & Rachmaninov Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Edo de Waart Michael Fowler Centre, 24th Aug Reviewed by Jennie Jones and Tamsin Evans

After a long week, neither of us thought we were really up for a Russian programme we were unfamiliar with. We should have known better of course.

We were confronted with an unusual looking stage for Stravinsky's Symphonies of Wind Instruments (1947 Revised Version). There were around two dozen players, but only woodwind, brass, and percussion. Melodious discord grabbed our attention immediately and it was wind vs. brass from then on. The sustained brass worked with nimble flutes and oboes, their phrases leaping and landing with an upward tilt, accented and sometimes with an almost Klezmer sound from clarinets.

The full orchestra returned for the Symphony in Three Movements, again with a strong opening. The impression left by these two pieces is that Stravinsky allowed all instruments their distinct voice, whether individually or in unison. A physical analogy might be a carefully balanced mobile or an exploded diagram of an engine, all the parts identifiably separate but clearly something greater when considered as a whole.

In contrast, Rachmaninov’s Symphony No.2, Op.27 was a gloriously long and swooping, melodious accord. Following the slightly detached sound of the Stravinsky, the impression was of a flock of birds heading home to roost, swirling, up, down and around. The often upbeat and harmonious themes provided many opportunities for instrumental voices to come to the fore and recede as others took their place. In an outstanding example at the outset of the third movement, the clarinet showed incredible breath control, beautiful movement and tone in a fabulous solo. With a head full of ear worms, occasional phrases seemed to echo snatches of recognisable film scores. The passage of time means the echo is of course in the films, so perhaps we were more familiar with the programme than we had thought. Regardless, our preconceived notion was wrong. This was lovely, beautifully played music.

Beethoven & Brahms Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Edo de Waart Michael Fowler Centre, 18th Aug Reviewed by Tamsin Evans

There are probably more sophisticated ways to say this, but soloist Augustin Hadelich was absolutely awesome in his rendition of Beethoven’s Violin Concerto in D major, Op.61. Hadelich appeared to have a very strong emotional and physical connection to the music. His tone was impeccable and his technique was astonishing. His touch was amazingly sensitive and gave the impression this was in both hands – not just his bowing technique, but his fingering as well. At times he appeared to be barely holding the bow against the strings while his left hand curled right around the violin to get further along the fingerboard, producing notes that seemed impossibly high, long, and beautiful.

The audience loved him and it was clear the orchestra was really enjoying their performance experience with him too. After many rounds of applause and a standing ovation, we were treated to an encore.

If your technique and talent are as strong as Hadelich’s you can pull off something brilliant. Hadelich chose Paganini’s Caprice no.24. While the much-used theme is familiar to many, it takes a live performance to understand just how difficult it is to play. Hadelich had no difficulty with the fast scales and arpeggios, double and triple stops, left hand pizzicato (jaw-dropping skill), parallel intervals, and rapid string crossings. In a few minutes he wowed the almost full house to even greater applause. It’s hard to imagine what it must be like to have achieved such mastery, but if we could all do it then we wouldn’t be sitting in the audience, overwhelmed by the flair and ability of one of the greatest violinists of his generation.

The terrific atmosphere and relaxed confidence of the first half spilled over into the Brahms Symphony No.2 in D Major, Op.73. The orchestra came to the party and played to their best. It was a great concert.

Bloomsbury Women & the Wild Colonial Girl Written by Lorae Parry Directed by Susan Wilson Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni Running at Circa Theatre until 15th Sep

Like many people who were educated in Wellington, I studied Katherine Mansfield’s famed short stories throughout high school. I never really connected with her; a dusty historical figure, she came from a Wellington where travel to Karori could be likened to a trip to the country.

But somewhere in Bloomsbury Women & the Wild Colonial Girl, I finally understood what all the fuss around the pioneering short story writer is all about. That’s due in large part to Lorae Parry’s script, which takes excerpts from Mansfield and Virginia Woolf’s personal diaries and letters. The text is quite literary, like the ladies themselves, but surprisingly funny and expressive.

The highlight of the production for me is Isobel MacKinnon’s performance as Mansfield. Equal parts sparky, vulnerable, and cruel, MacKinnon commands the stage, moving from sensual to hysterical to morose as effortlessly as she slumps on the set’s many armchairs. She’s ably matched by Jessica Robinson, who plays both Woolf and Mansfield’s lifelong friend, L.M. Her fascinating performance as Woolf is refined, but shot through with powerful moments of jealousy, grief, and insanity.

The set is very pretty, with stage lighting and set pieces evoking the yellows and reds of the iconic portrait of Mansfield by Anne Estelle Rice. Other elements of the design seem to be there to wrestle with the gaps in the script, with varying levels of success. A slightly jarring projection on the back wall screens images of figures in Mansfield’s life, presumably so we can keep up. At other times, MacKinnon swaps costume pieces at either side of the stage to show the passage of time, which seems a little fiddly for the actor.

Overall, the performances by MacKinnon and Robinson lift a tricky script off the page superbly. Complex, clever, and undeniably human, Bloomsbury Women & the Wild Colonial Girl is an insightful look at two of the most brilliant women in literary history, and a must-see for Mansfield fans everywhere.

The Dinner Devised by Joan Bellviure Directed by Juliet O’Brien Running at Circa Theatre until 25th Aug Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

They say with improv, every show is different. I don’t think I’ve ever heard the line ring truer – or more literally – than it does in The Dinner. Think of it like a dinner bell!

Five actors (Tim Gordon, Lori Dungey, Ian Harcourt, Anna Kennedy, and Mark Wright) and an emcee (Nic Gorman) gather in the Circa Theatre foyer. They’re of The Improvisors, a well-known Wellington improvisational theatre troupe. The actors are given an envelope at the start of the performance, but all that is outlined within is the role of their character in the context of the dinner party we’re about to see. There are two hosts, one solo guest, one accompanied guest, and a mystery guest.

Each actor then takes their group of audience members into a private pocket of the foyer. As an audience, we’re responsible for defining their characteristics, profession, obsessions, and more. We then walk into Circa One with a rough idea of how one fifth of the characters about to attend this party might behave at the dinner table.

It’s a brilliant concept because each audience member is personally invested in their character. Gordon – the mystery guest – was mine, and one of the highlights of the show was hearing the person next to me dissolve into fits of giggles every time he played out some of our silly suggestions on stage.

Bellviure’s challenging model needs actors at the top of their game to work, and The Improvisors are on the highest rung of the ladder. They keep the pace, drive the party forward, and engage us at every turn. But while their work is a pleasure to watch, there is some fat that could be trimmed. Our highly charismatic emcee Gorman waxes lyrical about music for too long. He might have been buying the actors more time, but that’s exactly how it reads.

Tiny gripe aside, I highly recommend The Dinner for an entertaining, enjoyable night out.

London Symphony Presented by Orchestra Wellington Conducted by Marc Taddei Michael Fowler Centre, 11th Aug Reviewed by Emily Sharp

Orchestra Wellington blessed us more than once tonight, as we were joined once again by our friend, Michael Houstoun, and were also privy to the premiere of Wild Cherry Tree composed by Geo Ping. I almost wished Houstoun would play with the Orchestra more, as they really are quite outstanding together.

Honestly there is nothing better than a concerto with Houstoun and Taddei, and what a piece to choose. Mozart’s Piano Concerto No.14 in E-flat major was sublime and I was in utter rapture the entire piece. This is a more involved concerto, but because of that I find the inner mechanisms and emotion create more colour and pattern than most. The orchestra, Taddei, and Houstoun’s performance here was mesmerising; I found myself completely lost in the moment. Bravo.

Next we had the premiere of Wild Cherry Tree, and wild is certainly a way to describe it. Out of curiosity, I looked into the region which inspired the piece. At first glance, I thought it looked like something out of The Hobbit with its rendered lines, perfect hills, and landscapes that appear to be painted by watercolours. Concertmaster Emma McGrath really painted these scenes for us here; you could hear the characters in the folk tales and see the expanding hills.

I felt that Dvořák’s Symphony No.7 in D minor was the absolute perfect follow on from this. To me, this symphony speaks of war with its commandeering tone. Rich in texture, it seems almost woeful, but the triumphant undertones bring the strength forward. There is nothing more commanding than Taddei with Orchestra Wellington, and Dvořák is one of the best suited orders.

Orchestra Wellington’s Mozart is always, always superb but Dvořák won favour tonight. I thought that Wild Cherry Tree incurred a mixed reaction from the audience. Personally I’m always more in favour of traditional than contemporary, but I enjoyed the stories and sensitivity behind the piece.

Ensemble Zefiro Presented by Chamber Music New Zealand Michael Fowler Centre, 10th Aug Reviewed by Emily Sharp

Ensemble Zefiro is comprised of two each of horn, bassoon, and oboe. They are a very prominent wind ensemble specialising in eighteenth-century composers. They received a very warm and relaxed welcome from those attending. I noted that there was less of an audience than usual, but we were extremely receptive and created a bond with the group right away. This reflected throughout the performance. I thought that their name having Greek mythological origin – Zefiro being the God of the Western Wind – was very fitting, as their charisma, skill, and presence shone through at all times.

In the first half of the concert we were played pieces from Handel, Fasch, and Telemann, and in the second, Haydn and Mozart. I found that Zefiro started very strong with a glorious first half, but for me, the second half was a little lacklustre and if not a little fast. The Handel stood out for me overall, which is surprising as I tend to favour Haydn over any other composer. The musicians bought spirited freshness to the older pieces, breathing life back into them as it were – paying homage to their namesake.

One of the highlights of the concert for me was the ensemble’s encore, which included a skit of sorts. They all played a piece together, then members would leave one by one, making a joke about how their sheet music had finished, leaving the stage and sitting amongst the audience watching the others play. We ended with one very lonely and woeful bassoon, who stole the show with his sad calls to his friends offstage. The audience was absolutely delighted with this, and I have to say it was definitely the funniest thing I’ve seen from Chamber Music New Zealand’s concerts.

Overall I really enjoyed the lightness and humour in this concert, as did everyone else. It was nice lift of mood – bubbly and zesty. That is something I’ve always always admired about Chamber Music New Zealand: they scour the globe (and our own country) for new and standout performances each time. Their concerts are always full of character and inspiration.

Mating in Captivity Written and Directed by Oliver Page BATS Theatre, 9th Aug Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Rob (Milo Cawthorne) and Annie (Frith Horan) seem happy. The young lovebirds co-exist contentedly in their one-bedroom apartment until an ex, Jacob (Arlo Gibson), shows up out of the blue one night.

Mating in Captivity is a critical but considered commentary on young marriage and heteronormative relationships. It suggests that 24-year-olds are not necessarily adults, with one particularly excellent line implying that they are in fact giant infants. Giant infant or no, the thrust is that one won’t have completely explored their sexuality at that age and probably shouldn’t settle down just yet.

It’s a rather cynical perspective to base a comedy on, but it works. Maybe it works because somehow, we still rarely discuss the topics these characters do – even in the ‘liberal bubble’ that is Wellington. Therein lies another rub: we all like to think we’re liberal, but what if you found out your partner wasn’t sexually orientated the way you thought they were? How would you react?

The meatiness of the work enables it to leave a lasting impression, elevating it from a brilliant comedy into standing ovation territory. It is also extremely refreshing to see queer relationships woven so seamlessly into the fabric of a rom-com.

Technically, Mating in Captivity is flawless. Ronnie Livingstone’s lighting design paints a stunning stage picture at first instance, while Oliver Devlin’s sound provokes hysterics at the last. The set (designed by Page, Livingstone, and Producer Eleanor Strathern) is gobsmacking, comprising the complete interior of a one-bedroom apartment. There’s even a deck. And a sliding door. And a washing machine. I might be gushing a bit here, but their work deserves it.

The performances are superb. Cawthorne is amusingly clueless whilst exuding intelligence; Gibson takes a sensitive, tender approach; and Horan is deliciously raucous, her punchy delivery of expletives and cackles a show highlight.

I found the dialogue referencing movies to be a bit clunky, but that is my only criticism, and it’s a minor one. Mating in Captivity is a phenomenal production.

Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again (PG) 114 Mins ★ ★ ★ Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

The title of Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again says it all, really. The very specific pleasures of the first film – ABBA, winking British humour, and a colour palette that pops off the screen – all return with surprisingly entertaining results.

Here We Go Again is one part sequel, one part prequel; it uncovers a young Donna’s (Lily James) first meeting with each of Sophie’s (Amanda Seyfried) dads, while the prodigal daughter flounders in the present. Donna (Meryl Streep) passed away a year before the events of Here We Go Again, leaving Sophie her hotel on the fictional Greek island of Kalokairi. Now, a storm is threatening the hotel’s grand re-opening, a prestigious job offer in New York is looming over Sophie’s husband Sky (Dominic Cooper), and then to top it all off, Sophie finds out she’s pregnant. What’s a Dancing Queen to do?

The movie’s soundtrack once again sparkles with the synth-pop par excellence of ABBA. Big fans will be pleased to hear a few deep cuts, and many of the big hits from the first film are reprised. Donna’s estranged mother Ruby (Cher) and her lover’s (Andy Garcia) Fernando is a film highlight. However, stripping the stone-cold banger Knowing Me, Knowing You of its original production values was a waste, and staging Waterloo in a Napoleon theme seems a bit on the nose. When the characters aren’t singing, they spend a lot of time gazing at the sparkling blue Aegean seas, and while they are gorgeous, it’s a bit boring for the viewer.

Just like the original, Here We Go Again verges on the saccharine. It’s a so-so romantic comedy with no real stakes and a distinct lack of Streep. That said, the second entry in the Mamma Mia canon is sure to delight audiences around the globe. Is it syrupy and escapist? Absolutely. But in the name of good clean fun, I can’t see anything wrong with that.

Dynamo: Seeing is Believing TSB Bank Arena, 24th Jul Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

It’s not often you get to know a magician, least of all a rather famous one. And yet, walking out of Dynamo’s Seeing is Believing tour on a blustery Tuesday night amongst 3000 other delighted Wellingtonians, I felt like I’d been given a glimpse into the man behind the magic. What an honour.

Now arguably one of the world’s most famous magicians, Dynamo – aka Steven Frayne – was bullied as a child. Being thrown into a chilly dam by the ‘cool kids’ fuelled his growing obsession with magic, and ultimately led to his viral walk across the River Thames. However, his success stems not from the negative experiences in his life, but the positive ones; namely, the influence and love of his grandfather. Over the course of the evening, the audience is let in on this story through a series of projected, exquisitely-designed animations, as well as heartfelt narrative interludes from the man himself. The result is a fantastic paradox; a grounded yet uplifting, humble stage spectacular.

To me, it’s the sentimental element that makes the show so good. The outstanding magician actually comes across as a shy performer – one who knows how to be a showman, but wasn’t born one. I got the sense that he’d be more at home performing at the local (something he reminisces about fondly) than filling arenas around the world. This just makes his generosity of spirit feel all the more special.

And, ah, the magic. An avid Penn & Teller: Fool Us consumer, I can usually spot the gimmicks of a trick. However, through mentalism and card tricks, levitation and illusion, Dynamo completely suspended my disbelief. The wool was over my eyes every moment bar one, when an audience member behind me obnoxiously proclaimed how a trick was done. To that person – I’m sorry (not sorry) for hissing at you.

I’ve been asked specifically by the promoters and Dynamo not to reveal any of the specifics of the magic, so I’ll leave you with this:

You can see it, but you still might not believe it.

Simon Trpčeski Plays Grieg Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Jaime Martín Michael Fowler Centre, 13th Jul Reviewed by Dawn Brook

Often, as in this concert, it is particularly satisfying not only to hear an orchestra perform but to see it in action.

In the opening piece, Festive Overture by Shostakovich, all the heavies of the orchestra – brass, percussion, and double basses – began with a tremendous fanfare, followed by playful wind instruments, and stirring strings. The audience could enjoy its great exuberance as it was reflected in the zest and energy of the players and conductor.

With the Grieg Piano Concerto in A minor, what the audience could see was the responsiveness of the pianist, Macedonian Simon Trpčeski, and the conductor to each other and then its translation into a great partnership between soloist and orchestra. Without sacrificing the beauty of the music, this was a robust and physical performance by Simon Trpčeski, delivering a wide range of pianistic dynamics. Generously, Simon Trpčeski responded to the audience’s enthusiastic reception of his performance by calling on the orchestra’s Concertmaster, Vesa-Matti Leppänen, to join him for an encore in a movement from a Grieg violin sonata.

If the Grieg was a heartwarming performance, then the final work of the concert, Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 10 in E Minor was heartstopping. This work reflects Shostakovich’s horror at the havoc and terror wreaked by Stalin, the work being first performed shortly after the tyrant’s death. In the first two movements, the prevalent mood is of dread and foreboding, with the darkness only occasionally being broken by feelings of still-sombre relief. In the third and fourth movements, there is a sense of questioning, unease, and momentous events alongside a tentative hope for a remembered tranquillity and joy. Jaime Martín, with tremendous visible energy and commitment, played the orchestra like a single instrument, producing a passionate and convincing performance that was a joy to see as well as hear.

The Prophecy Presented by Orchestra Wellington Conducted by Marc Taddei Michael Fowler Centre, 7th Jul Reviewed by Dawn Brook

The Czech composer, Leoš Janácêk, loved all things Russian. His Taras Bulba, completed in 1918, opened this lively concert and gave the concert its name. Taras Bulba, in an 1835 Russian story, was a Cossack who having killed his own traitor son, and seen the execution of his other son by the enemy Polish, was himself burned to death by the Poles, and in dying spoke a prophecy, that “a Tsar shall arise from Russian soil, and there shall not be a power in the world which shall not submit to him!” It is no surprise that the music was richly descriptive of war, torture, killing, anguish and virile heroism, balanced – a little – by music evoking the traitorous son’s love for a Polish woman.

Antonín Dvořák, also Czech, wrote the third work of the concert, Symphony No. 6 in D Major in 1880. In contrast to the opening item, this symphony is full of sunshine and rapturous feelings. While Janácêk made good use of percussion and brass, here strings and woodwind were predominant, often melodic and romantic but breaking out into lively, dancing rhythms and joyful exuberance. The orchestra revelled in the piece, delivering a convincing performance.

Between these two works, the audience was treated to a stellar performance of Benjamin Britten’s Piano Concerto. It is an extravagantly energetic work, clever and virtuosic, playful and bold, with the piano engaging with the orchestra in magical moments of lyricism, but more often bursting beyond the orchestra in percussive fire crackers of sound. Jian Liu, Head of Piano Studies at Victoria University, was the soloist and was truly impressive, both technically and musically, totally in control of the work and his instrument. And then he played a quiet, meltingly beautiful encore which underscored his mastery.

Well done Mark Taddei, Orchestra Wellington and Jian Liu. A very fine concert.

The Firebird Presented by NZSO National Youth Orchestra Conducted by Jaime Martín Michael Fowler Centre, 6th Jul Reviewed by Dawn Brook

The first work on this programme, Suites No 1 and 2 from The Three-Cornered Hat by Manuel De Falla was played with such élan, vigour and precision that it seemed unlikely anything else on the programme could equally showcase the 80 young orchestral musicians. But the concert’s other bookend was the Suite from The Firebird by Igor Stravinsky and this more complex work, excellently performed, provided an even better experience.

These works derive from ballets commissioned in the early twentieth century. They are full of life and colour, challenging and exhilarating rhythms, and folk music idioms of Spain and Russia respectively. The works were very well chosen. Both used the orchestra fully, with all instruments having the opportunity to star. Particularly noteworthy were the lead players of the violins, oboes, clarinets, bassoons and horns. What wonderful talents!

Young New Zealand talent was evident also in the Jolivet Bassoon Concerto. The soloist was Todd Gibson-Cornish, still in his early twenties, a past member of the Youth Orchestra, now pursuing a solo and orchestral career overseas. Reputedly a “fiendishly difficult” piece, it was a fitting vehicle to display his technique. Yet as a whole, this performance of bassoon and strings did not seem as confident and committed as the rest of the programme.

Completing the concert was the premier of Josiah Carr’s redwood. This engaging work, inspired by the Rotorua redwood forest, had a soundscape evoking secretive forest depths full of hidden drama. Carr, a young Aucklander, is the Youth Orchestra’s composer-in-residence.

These performances were enthusiastically received by the audience. It was especially great to see the many young people in the audience responding so positively. There was every indication at the end of the concert that the Spanish conductor Jaime Martín was just as thrilled as the audience with what the Youth Orchestra achieved.

Femme Natale Directed by Fingal Pollock BATS Theatre, 3rd Jul Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Femme Natale is a sketch show written by parents, for parents. That’s the tagline, but there’s a lot of gold in there for those without kids like me. I used to say I was a cat mum, but after seeing Femme Natale, I can say with complete conviction that cats don’t count.

The devised work features a series of skits strung together by a stagehand dressed, hilariously, as a tampon. Shanitary (Esther Lewis) suffers PMT (or just MT really, as she’s mid-cycle). Furiously shuffling about, cleaning everybody else’s mess, Shanitary is a show highlight.

Featuring a multitude of different characters and scenarios, each scene varies quite drastically in intensity and delivery. From power ballads to direct address, giant breasts (elaborately, fabulously costumed by Pollock, Jen Whitty, and Rasta Imposta Costumes) to a dad in labour, Femme Natale could easily fall apart. Kudos to Pollock for creating cohesion amongst the chaos.

However, I do think the running order needs revision. The first scene, titled The Birth (devised and performed by Pollock and Jeremy Nelson), is quite extreme. I’m all for extreme, except that I think it’s a little early in the production to push audience participation, as the space is not safe for us yet. The following scene The Interview (by Tracey Savage, performed by Savage and April Phillips) is grounded and supremely clever. I feel it would be a great way to ease the audience into the show.

Femme Natale features some glorious scenes. Napping on the Bathroom Floor (Lyrics by Pollock with music by Meredith Parkin, performed by Phillips) is exquisitely hysterical. Keeping up with The Mumses (by Rachel Millar, performed by Millar, Pollock, and Sherilee Kahui) is my personal favourite, and I Wrote Her a Letter (by Katherine Wyeth, performed by Lewis) is a gorgeous note to end the evening on.

Ultimately, Femme Natale is both a great night out and an important work. Giving parents the platform to access theatre in this manner is wonderful, and I hope the show is repeated on a regular basis.

Heath Quartet Presented by Chamber Music New Zealand Michael Fowler Centre, 27th Jun Reviewed by Emily Sharp

My first observation was that it wasn’t a full house tonight, perhaps due to it being midweek. But I do feel sorry for those who missed this concert. I remember once making a note that quartets in the Michael Fowler Centre didn’t quite work for me as the setting wasn’t intimate enough. The Heath Quartet certainly changed my mind about this. As most know, string quartets are generally written for soirees and close, small gatherings. I’ve always preferred to hear them in their natural setting over an auditorium, as this is truer to the sound and feel of the music, usually.

I was pleasantly surprised, as I thoroughly enjoyed the embrace of music and had no issue with volume – even though the person next to me was making a bit of a racket: spluttering, coughing and even, yes, snoring… I’d like to raise a quick point here, as personally, I find the etiquette of the audience sometimes to be very off-putting. I think that you should be a responsible attendee, and if your husband has fallen asleep and is snoring, give him a sharp nudge in the ribs; he’s ruining a perfectly good Haydn.

The premiere of a commissioned piece, Te Kōanga, by Gareth Farr was incredibly striking. It’s no secret I have a penchant for edgier, darker pieces, and this was enthralling. I found myself drawing parallels with Purcell and two pieces from our last concert by Xenakis and New Zealand’s own Whitehead. What an interesting time to play a piece written for spring – the programme tells us Te Kōanga is Te Reo for spring or the planting season, the piece being a celebration of life and regeneration. It was beautifully sinister and direct but had a playful, sweet tone throughout. I heard a true representation of spring; birds, water, excitement, growth, and startling freshness. As happenstance has it, this piece is played just in time to mock our almost frozen Wellington. Trust Chamber Music New Zealand to always delight and bring the spark back into these cold nights

Meremere Created by Rodney Bell Produced by Movement of the Human Circa Theatre, 21st Jul Reviewed by Leah Maclean

Meremere is a powerful autobiographical work by Rodney Bell. Bell tells his remarkable life story through a combination of dance, spoken word, music, and projection. Meremere follows his journey as an integrated performer (Bell is paraplegic), to his life on the streets in San Francisco, and finally his return to Aotearoa.

Meremere boasts a fantastic team of collaborators. Under the accomplished direction of Malia Johnston in conjunction with the stunning AV design of Rowan Pierce; live music by Eden Mullholland; and striking lighting by Ruby Reihana-Wilson, the audience is successfully transported to the epicentre of Bell's story.

The fourth wall of performance is broken with Bell questioning the audience and inviting people on stage. Such interaction can seem intimidating as an audience member, but Bell's easy and gentle manner makes one feel comfortable and like whānau. The work is interspersed with heart-wrenching anecdotes and moments of humour, backed up with footage and interviews from his experience as a dancer and displacement on the streets.

Despite the tribulations Bell has suffered, there is never a moment of negativity in his performance. His emotion is conveyed in movement; exquisite elongated limbs express sorrow, hasty wheel spins evoke frustration, and delicate hand gestures conjure feelings of freedom and acceptance.

The highlight of the show comes when Bell beckons an audience member to join him on stage. The audience member is Brydie Colquhoun, an extraordinary dancer in her own right with a magnificent stage presence. The pair slides into a magical duet where Bell propels and spins his chair across the stage, and Colquhoun tenderly dances around and with him, displaying gorgeous precision. Footage of the pair performing an identical piece is projected behind them. The reliving and restaging of this shared moment is beautiful and uplifting.

Meremere is a raw and personal experience that strikes you to the core and embeds itself in the deepest recesses of your mind. Rodney's courage, warmth, and undeniable talent are second to none.

Brahms & Tchaikovsky Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Miguel Harth-Bedoya Michael Fowler Centre, 23rd Jun Reviewed by Tamsin Evans

Gareth Farr’s He iwi tahi tātou was a lively start to a very lively concert. The second of the NZSO’s commissions to mark the first meeting of Māori and Europeans when Cook landed in Aotearoa 250 years ago, Farr describes it as his “reaction to the vibrant culture that we live in.” With his trademark nod to the sounds of the gamelan, and a race through a variety of other musical styles, this was a reflection of the whole of New Zealand, not just the two cultures that came together in 1769.

Stefan Jackiw’s love of Brahms was obvious in his gorgeous rendition of the Violin Concerto in D major (Op. 77). Although completely different in origin and style, the opening movement carried something of the tonality of Farr’s piece, perhaps heard in the different combinations of instruments or a quirk of Jackiw’s technique. His seemingly ever so slightly stilted bow movement produced a crisp and sprightly yet completely connected line of music. I can only assume the vital movement must have been in his wrist and hand, demonstrating his true fingertip control of the sound. At first it did seem as if the woodwind would overwhelm Jackiw, but balance was soon restored. The young violinist took centre stage and gave us a carefree and supremely confident performance that impressed on every level.

Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No.4 in F minor (Op. 36) is clearly a favourite with conductor Miguel Harth-Bedoya, who directed the whole symphony from memory. I am always awestruck when a conductor pulls this off. Described as a “narrative” piece, Tchaikovsky shared the storytelling widely throughout the orchestra. Every section had their part of the tale to tell and Harth-Bedoya directed them brilliantly. Standouts were the precise pizzicato of the strings in the third movement, the rousing return to the main theme, and the powerful finish of the fourth movement.

Ocean’s 8 (M) 110 Mins ★ ★ ½ Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

In the latest Oceans spin-off, the usual line-up of suave dudes is cast aside for an all-girl, entirely badass gang of thieves. Despite the dazzling ensemble cast, Oceans 8’s routine plot and laboured execution fails to capture the magic of the original Steven Soderbergh trilogy.

Ocean’s 8 opens with the heretofore unmentioned sister of Danny Ocean, Deborah (Sandra Bullock), as she cons her way out of prison and into a luxury hotel suite. Deb soon gets in contact with her old partner Lou (Cate Blanchett) to launch her greatest heist yet – robbing the Met. Or rather, robbing from the (literally) glittering guests at the most exclusive party in America: the annual Met Gala. Their target? A legendary Cartier necklace called the Touissaint, worth $150 million, which will hang around the neck of self-obsessed film star Daphne Kluger (Anne Hathaway). Deb and Lou gather a ragtag crew including Rose (Helena Bonham Carter), a woeful fashion designer in dangerous debt; Tammy (Sarah Paulson), the ‘fence’; Constance (Awkwafina), a gum-smacking pickpocket; Amita (Mindy Kaling), a sweet jeweller; and Nine Ball (Rihanna), a Rastafarian hacker.

It’s this incredible cast that saves the film from, frankly, putting me to sleep. But even then, there’s aspects of their characters that would have never made the final cut if – cough – a woman had been in the director’s chair. The comedy chops of Kaling and Awkwafina are criminally under-utilised, for example, and the way the two white women boss everyone else around feels a little 2001.

Moreover, the lack of tension or stakes drains a lot of the fun from the heist itself. I mean, with Rihanna manipulating the security cameras, were they ever going to lose? Aside from the opening sequence with the (excellent) Bullock, the deliciousness of the women’s crime is never quite so tasty as in the original Oceans films.

I so wanted to love Oceans 8. Yes, the cast was great. But next time, I’d suggest starting from the ground up, and getting women not only in front of the camera, but behind it.

Golden City Presented by Orchestra Wellington Conducted by Marc Taddei Michael Fowler Centre, 9th Jun Reviewed by Emily Sharp

It was a fantastic opening night for Orchestra Wellington’s season, a fact that was not only measured by the success of the concert, but just the sheer volume of people there. Taddei made a mention of how full the audience was. I always enjoy being part of a packed-out Michael Fowler Centre, and I’m sure the musicians do too! I’ve been reviewing Orchestra Wellington for some time now; they have gained a much larger following since I started, which is lovely to see.

One could discuss Mozart indefinitely, specifically his symphonies, if the listener was so inclined. However, I find that Symphony No.38 in D major, Prague, speaks for itself. Drawing on and reflecting his operatic tastes, whilst keeping in the classic fast, slow, fast movements of symphonies, Mozart’s inspirations shine through in this piece. Obviously, his beloved Prague can’t go without a mention. I wonder if people will disagree with me here, but I also think the rambunctiousness of the city it represents, and Mozart’s dedicated Bohemian followers, tie in with the tone and mood of the piece, which clearly has a taste of Beethoven about it.

Amalia Hall was outstanding as per usual; Bartók’s Violin Concerto No.2 is just beautiful. It made me recall a recent chat I overheard my two younger sisters having about how music is a conversation. A piece of music needs to flow just as a conversation does with breaks, silences, mimics of melody and tone. If it sounds wrong, people are not listening or speaking to each other properly. I found that Hall and Orchestra Wellington created a perfect example of this metaphor.

The concert ended well with Dvořák’s overexciting Symphony No.5 in F major. Pieces like this always remind me of the times I have heard people say that conductors and players don’t make much of a difference to the music. My point is always – have you seen Orchestra Wellington and Marc Taddei perform a symphony? Outstanding.

An Evening with Simon O’Neill Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Lawrence Renes Michael Fowler Centre, 16th Jun Reviewed by Dawn Brook

At the start of the NZSO’s An Evening with Simon O’Neill concert, we were told that this was the retirement concert for long-time horn player, Gregory Hill. What a way to exit, Mr Hill! The horn section played a prominent and exhilarating part, along with the rest of the brass section in the second work of the programme, Bruckner’s Symphony No 4. The composer apparently described the music as “medieval city – dawn – from the castle towers sound the early morning calls – the gates open – the knights ride forth on their proud mounts – the magic of the forest receives them, with forest sounds and birdcalls”. While the brass conjured up heroic and knightly images, the more bucolic aspects of the scene were beautifully expressed in lyrical sections by strings and woodwind. The integrated whole – more than an hour long – swept the audience along.

It is hard to understand how Bruckner was dismissed by the Vienna of the 1870s; Brahms accused him of creating “symphonic boa-constrictors”. Bruckner’s great admiration of Wagner perhaps explains this comment. Wagner was not favoured in Vienna at the time. The debt to Wagner explains the coupling of Bruckner’s work with Wagner’s Wesendonck Lieder at this concert.

Wagner’s operas are heroic, dramatic, and grand, as with Bruckner’s symphony. Not so the Wesendonck Lieder, often sung with only piano accompaniment, but performed at this concert by the internationally-acclaimed New Zealand tenor Simon O’Neill with orchestra. This beautiful work, full of emotional yearning, was sung with great intensity by the soloist, creating an introspective and reflective intimacy which was deeply satisfying. As a Wagner specialist, O’Neill will be accustomed to giving full rein to the operatic style. This performance showed both another aspect of Wagner and the ability of O’Neill to respond sensitively to the different nature of this work.

He Kura E Huna Ana Written by Hōhepa Waitoa Directed by Nancy Brunning BATS Theatre, 12th Jun Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

I was invited to review He Kura E Huna Ana as someone who has little to no grasp of the Māori language, for this Taki Rua production is told entirely in Te Reo.

Hine (Puawai Blossom Winterburn) has had an argument with her boyfriend Tau (Nepia Takuira-Mita). During the fallout, she turns to her ex-boyfriend Tini (Scotty Cotter) for consolation, though the flame he still harbours for her just throws her into deeper turmoil. Hine retreats home to the Arahura River, where her taua (her grandmother, played by Tanea Heke) waits to console her. Fearing for her mental health (and hilariously, worrying that she is hapu), Taua tells Hine the stories of her tīpuna. And so, the creation myth of pounamu is shared.

I studied the programme meticulously before walking into the theatre, and most of the above description I was able to gather from the performance. What I wouldn’t have known had I not read the programme was that Hine struggled with depression, and that she had lost her parents and twin sister in a car crash. This is vital information as it lends power to Winterburn’s passionate performance and prevents it from being misinterpreted as overacting. I wonder if a flashback scene depicting the car crash would help. I would also advise making the names of the characters clear earlier, because although I knew the storyline, I was at first unable to tell which actor was the current and which was the ex-boyfriend!

It is so fantastic to hear so much Te Reo in one place, and I thoroughly commend Taki Rua Productions for staging He Kura E Huna Ana. And how beautifully it is staged. The set (Natala Gwiazdzinski) is stunning and brilliantly utilised, the costumes (Amy Macaskill) striking, and the integration of music (designed and played live by Sheree Waitoa) seamless. Spectacular movement also plays an intrinsic role; I would love to see this aspect amped up for the sake of clarity.

The Atom Room Written by Philip Braithwaite Directed by Lyndee-Jane Rutherford Running at Circa Theatre until 7th Jul Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Picture Wellington 150 years from now after man and nature have combined forces to ravage Earth. The city is an island. The Bucket Fountain floats idly down what I’ll call Cuba Stream. And if you take your helmet off for even a second, you’ll likely die of radiation poisoning. That’s where Danny (Taylor Hall) lives.

The brilliant engineer Sarah (Harriet Prebble) lives on Mars. She’s worked hard to get to the top, leaving Danny and her home behind to solve logistical problems revolving around words I can’t pronounce. Her feisty boss Margaret (Claire Waldron) consistently reminds Sarah of her potential and worth, carving out a comfy niche for her on the dead planet. Though seemingly unsympathetic to the plight of the Mars-crossed lovers, Margaret allows Sarah time in the Atom Room: a place where she can connect with Danny in the physical realm despite their 54.6 million kilometres apart.

Prebble and Hall positively crackle with chemistry, delivering a radiant romance that serves as the nucleus of a production filled with technological triumphs. Their palpable passion plays out on a stage adorned with polished AV projections (Raylene Beals, Johanna Sanders), illuminated by slick, futuristic lighting schemes (Jennifer Lal), and sonically charged by original electronic beats from Kiwi band Minuit. Rutherford’s design vision breathes life into Braithwaite’s clever, punchy script.

The cast is well-balanced, cracking the work forward at a whip-snap pace. Prebble brings a beautiful softness and charm to her role that is quite lovely to watch. I would have liked to have seen more of the sass that I read from her character in the first half, but the fire she rains in the second is exceptional. A segment involving adware is a particular highlight of the production.

Hall delivers a down-to-earth performance and is an absolute natural talent. With her exquisite comedic timing and electric energy, Waldron nearly steals the show.

No glitches here: The Atom Room is engaging, entertaining, and executed to perfection.

Waiora: Te-Ū-Kai-Po (The Homeland) Written by Hone Kouka Directed by William Walker Hannah Playhouse, 1st Jun Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

A Māori family has left their homeland of Waiora on the East Cape to settle in the South Island. Hone (the fierce and passionate Leihana Shelford-Tito) has secured a good job at the local mill, where he goes by John for the ‘sake’ of his Pākehā boss Steve (the side-splitting Meg Robinson). His daughter Amiria (the sassy and effortless Zahra Cherrington), aka Amelia, works with her dad at the mill too, though he hardly notices her presence. Enamoured by his firstborn daughter Rongo (gracefully, powerfully enacted by Phoenix Karaitiana), Hone spends his days working towards a promotion at the mill to secure what he believes will be a better life for his family.

The play is set over the course of one evening in 1965, when Steve visits the family’s home to celebrate Rongo’s 18th birthday and announce some exciting news. The family matriarch, Wai (natural performer Kayah Thompson), whom Steve and Amiria’s teacher Louise (the deliciously cringe-worthy Mollie Jacobson) call Sue, has spent the whole day preparing for the party. It all turns to custard when the baby of the family, Boy (the energetic, dynamic Hana Gilbert), botches his first hangi.

All the while, tupuna (Jerome Tamihana, Ngarimu Wyatt, Kasey Harder-Cortland-Pairana, Tracey Kingi, and Paea Slade) circle, appearing to Rongo in haunting, evocative, stunning homages to Waiora.

This Wahine Works’ production of Waiora was born out of the five-year drama course at Whangarei Girls’ High School. Astonishingly, it began as a class assessment. Now, it’s opening the Kia Mau Festival. I can’t stress how much these teenagers deserve that honour. Wahine Works should be on the grandest stages in New Zealand and the humblest, in classrooms up north and down south, delivering their powerful rendition of this vital work to Kiwis the country over.

It’s not enough to say this production is of a professional standard. It is one that left me speechless, sobbing, struck. It is one that I will remember as long as I live.

2 Dope Teenz – 2 Dope 2 Teen Created by Aaron Pyke and Alayne Dick Directed by Adam Goodall BATS Theatre, 29th May Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Aaron Pyke and Alayne Dick are best friends. But all is not well at their high school: the Netflix bug is spreading. Even though everyone knows that if you “watch Netflix, even once, your eyes will fall out”, Aaron catches the bug. I’m not going to spoil whether he gets to keep his eyes or not – you’ll have to see the show for that – but I will say that his new viewing habits seriously compromise the best friendship at the heart of this work.

I’m not sure whether this is a play or an improvisation. 2 Dope Teenz are an improv comedy duo (though they’re not teenagers, Aaron and Alayne are best friends in real life), and I was under the impression that 2 Dope 2 Teen is unscripted. If it is, it is brilliant.

The cohesive story told is an Aristotelian dream in terms of structure. While there are interactive audience elements, they don’t seem to have any bearing on the plot. We are asked two questions (both “what should I do?”, which we fail to properly answer), and we write down questions that the duo answers in segue scenes. But that’s just the point: they’re segue scenes, and after them, the plot drives forward. I’m not sure which parts of the show are being conceived in real time, and which parts are rehearsed – aside from the obvious transitional dance moves, and Tesha Lua’s delightful animations.

As an audience member, the joy of improv is watching great performers come up with clever ideas on the spot. Watching improv also means being more forgiving of stuttering, corpsing, odd ideas that don’t quite work out, and the like. Not knowing what I’ve seen means I’m not really able to make a judgement call on this work.

I can say Alayne and Aaron’s friendship is lovely to watch, and give these performers kudos for baring it all. Also, I can’t wait to get my hands on a juicebox now.

Solo (M) 134 Mins ★ ★ ★

In the latest Star Wars prequel unburdened by episode numbers or Skywalkers, we dive deep into loveable rogue Han Solo’s story, back when he was just Han. Solo: A Star Wars Story is a lot of fun, but ultimately fails to inject anything vital into the sprawling franchise.

Young Han (Alden Ehrenreich) grew up on the mucky planet Corellia, under the thumb of a giant worm boss, Lady Proxima. Han and his sweetheart Qi’ra (Emilia Clarke) live a sad Oliver Twist-style existence until they nab a treasure that will fund their escape. Unfortunately, only Han manages to escape Lady Proxima’s grasp – and so, promising to return to Corellia to rescue his love, he joins the Empire as a recruit. He’s soon kicked out for “having his own mind”, and before we’ve caught a breath he’s plotting his first smuggling scheme alongside Beckett (Woody Harrelson) and Val (Thandie Newton). They’re pursuing a sizeable cache of the hyperfuel coaxium.

It’s all very watchable, and for diehard fans, it likely scratches that Star Wars itch. However, for the rest of us, it’s nothing remarkable. Ehrenreich is never going to replace the iconic Harrison Ford, but he makes an admirable commitment to Solo’s cheesy bravado. Donald Glover is a bright spot as Lando, and the droid L3 (voiced by Phoebe Waller-Bridge) catches some laughs, but the plot is clunky, requiring quick changes of character loyalty to work.

Even the visuals, which were so spectacular in The Last Jedi, are lacking. Director Ron Howard (Apollo 13, A Beautiful Mind) has used colour and texture in favour of the grand set pieces Star Wars is known for, which is interesting, but rather lacks drama. It’s the same story with the soundtrack, which rehashes John Williams’ classic score without ever reaching the original’s heights.

Solo: A Star Wars Story feels like a dutiful colouring in exercise, where Han Solo’s previously murky past is neatly filled within the lines. It makes for a pretty picture, but one that no-one really needs.

Arj Barker – Organic Written by Arj Barker The Opera House, 17th May Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Arj Barker and his wife have gone gluten-free. The American comedian is loving it, and only misses one thing: his happiness.

Barker’s 2018 New Zealand International Comedy Fest show hones in on organic living. From running away into the woods to the life-altering effects of bread on humanity; from the adrenaline rush of base-jumping in a homemade parachute to the cool, minty-freshness of Uber, Organic is all about living your best life, and the best life you can for planet Earth.

The script is constructed in such a manner as to make the audience feel privy to an inside joke – or 12. With plenty of genius references to previous yarns and clever throwbacks to past lines, plus an overall sense of cohesion and a satisfying instance of ring composition, this is a tight and carefully-considered work. It’s a pleasure seeing such commitment from a famous face; being so well known in New Zealand, Barker could easily get away with pouring a quarter as much of his wit and talent into a show here.

He doesn’t, and the result is an outstanding hour of stand-up.

Barker is a gifted comedian with a unique comedic style. There’s a lot of yelling involved in his delivery, particularly when he becomes excited or passionate about something. If you’re struggling to picture it, think Adam Sandler in The Wedding Singer, describing the things that could have been brought to his attention YESTERDAY. Juxtaposed against Barker’s oft-calm and collected storytelling style, these heated moments make for an exciting and varied show. So breezy is the rest of his delivery that you often don’t know you’ve been hit with a punch line until three seconds after the fact, when you find yourself in a sudden fit of hysterics.

I was particularly impressed by Barker’s response to one heckler, who cunningly yelled “blowjob”. Barker cheekily referred back to this ‘joke’ on a number of occasions, turning the heckler right on his head.

Wilson Dixon – What a Country! Written by Wilson Dixon Te Auaha, 15th May Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Wilson Dixon is a comedian and country singer from Cripple Creek, Colorado.

In What a Country!, he performs a mixture of stand-up comedy and songs in a laid-back, no-fuss manner. This likeable comedian is extremely chilled out, almost suspiciously so. However, he doesn’t seem fazed by his audience, which puts us at ease. We don’t have to pander to him nor him to us – it feels as if we’re simply catching up with an old friend. This is the most easygoing comedy show I’ve seen as part of the 2018 New Zealand International Comedy Fest, and perhaps ever.

Dixon is at his best when performing the melodic, anecdotal songs he’s written over the course of his impressive six-album career. Just considering the album titles of his first, Wilson Dixon’s Greatest Hits, and second, Introducing Wilson Dixon, will give you an indication of how clever his material is. From a blind date who fell in a lake to a niece wise well beyond her years (my favourite song), his hum-along ditties encompass silly and amusing moments from his life so far. Dixon’s storytelling prowess is unrivalled in song.

His stand-up is also effective, though he seems a little less comfortable with this mode of comedy. Unable to rest his hands, he idly strums on his guitar while speaking. Because he’s not playing a melody, and only strums sporadically, I find this quite distracting. It seems as if Dixon is itching to get to the next song, which makes me feel itchy too.

I would have loved Dixon to perform more material about America in What a Country!. The title and projected subject matter felt quite out of sorts with the show itself – I expected to hear more jokes about how “America is like an enormous armed toddler at an all-you-can-eat buffet.” Alternatively, as the bulk of his material is about his family, rebranding the show would work a treat.

This was an entertaining and enjoyable hour that I’d happily relive.

Problems Written by Joe Musaphia Directed by Gavin Rutherford Circa Theatre, 12th May Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Stephan (Andrew Paterson) and Boris (Simon Leary) guard the Great Leader as he takes a routine nap. But he’s overslept. If the guards go in to rouse him, they’ll be shot on sight. If they let him sleep, they’ll probably be shot later anyways. More Problems arise as the hapless men continue to draw the short straw.

Joe Musaphia’s Problems is set in a dystopian world in which a revolution has placed an omnipotent force at the forefront of the galaxy. Drawing a parallel to a current leader that may or may not be in power in the United States at present, the Great Leader doesn’t much like foreigners. Problems could be quite a disturbing text in that case – one that is eerily resonant of our current state of affairs and where they might be leading. However, it doesn’t strike this chord.

The text requires two extremely capable actors and a proficient hand to guide them, and that is just what we have here. In the hands of a lesser team, a production of Problems could easily fall apart. The dialogue to me feels a bit heavy-handed; there’s a lot of exposition, while the rare scenes that feature much-needed character development lack emotional resonance. Ultimately, the script prevents me from becoming invested in these characters and their dénouements.

I’m particularly intrigued by the total lack of music throughout the production (apart from a clever use of Muse’s Uprising at curtain rise and fall). While Leary and Paterson are more than capable of sustaining the pace on their own, and do so impressively, I think music would help to up the suspense and raise the stakes in this instance.

Leary does a bang-up job as the gruff, detached Boris. His character is gorgeously offset by Paterson’s zealous performance as a doting revolutionary. It all takes place on an aptly bright, jarring stage, where farce and comedy are drawn upon to produce a production that leaves me feeling entertained, but ultimately impassive.

My Fat/Sad Written by Uther Dean BATS Theatre, 15th May Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

When I was in my first year at Victoria University, Uther Dean was the co-editor of the student rag Salient. It may not be his proudest achievement, but his column Things You Already Know But Need to be Told saved my depressed 18-year-old self more times than I care to remember. He went on to be an award-winning playwright.

With Dean’s latest venture, comedy, he continues his affecting, whip-smart body of work by flaying himself on stage – with jokes, of course. My Fat/Sad is a complex, knotty hour of stand-up comedy that I absolutely loved.

My Fat is the first half. It rails against everything from online fashion giant ASOS to Uther Pendragon, his namesake. Sad is the second half and My Fat’s mirror image. It features a call-and-response section where Dean gives examples of how depressed he is. He is very depressed.

Dean stumbles onto the stage with a cabled microphone, towel on one shoulder and glass of red in hand. The stage is bare save for his presence, which is enigmatic – but also sweaty, uncomfortable, on edge. He’s not a comedian for everyone; certainly he’s not the bouncy, effortless comic everyman. But for me, he’s a razor-sharp performer who held the opening night audience on a string. With a sentence, or even a word, he’d flip the room from laughter into silence.

Throughout the two sets, Dean’s “highly-woven structure” is as transparent as he is. He’s always commenting on audience response, telling us how hard he worked on this show, mentioning he’s already performed this ‘bit’. With his open use of “comedy parlance”, Dean reveals the building blocks of his comedy. He doesn’t want us to think he’s playing any comic tricks on us, because he’s working on the biggest ‘trick’ of all; getting us to like him. He’s not alone; any performer that says they don’t care about the audience is lying. And it doesn’t mean that his comedy, so often like an open wound, is any less gutting.

Bernstein at 100 Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Brett Mitchell Michael Fowler Centre, 11th May Reviewed by Tamsin Evans

After this concert I want to watch On the Waterfront (because I’ve never seen it and it sounds great). I also want to apologise for inflicting hours of torture on many probably unwilling parents (not mine, they wisely stayed away) obliged to sit through school orchestra renditions of West Side Story and other pieces from Bernstein’s oeuvre. It turns out they’re completely different when played professionally.

Bernstein was known for being a truly ‘American’ composer, bringing together multiple styles and bridging the gap between classical and popular music. We were very ably guided through a great programme by American conductor Brett Mitchell who, like Bernstein, was trained in the United States. Maestro Mitchell enjoyed the experience as much as, if not more than, many in the audience and seemingly danced and almost jived his way through a variety of classics from Bernstein’s more popular work.

Morgan James, classically trained (also in the United States) and known for her wide-ranging repertoire and voice, got us off to a marvellous start with I Can Cook Too from On the Town. With diction as clear as a bell and one of my favourite types of voice – ever so slightly less than perfect and delivered with real passion – James had the audience on side from the outset. Four dresses might be too much for one evening on anybody else, but James has plenty of chutzpah and carried them all off well.

On the Waterfront was terribly atmospheric, setting vivid scenes of dense sea fog and suspense, and was a complete contrast to the charming and lyrical Dream with Me from Peter Pan. The highlight and possibly most well recognised piece, Symphonic Dances from West Side Story, was the main attraction in the second half. Leaving aside memories of school, it was an absolute pleasure to sit back and enjoy another fine performance from the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra.

The Four Seasons Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Brett Mitchell Michael Fowler Centre, 12th May Reviewed by Tamsin Evans

There can hardly have been a single member of the audience who didn’t know what to expect when Angelo Xiang Yu struck the first chords of Antonio Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons. However, Yu went on to give a commanding and personal rendition of the ever-popular and well-recognised work with a style and even some humour that made the performance distinctively his own. Whether it was a tilt of his head, the angle of his body, the position of his feet, or his facial expression, Yu brought his personality to the performance. Little touches like holding the orchestra back or pushing ahead, or waiting one second more before resuming a phrase brought an individuality that made this version of The Four Seasons all his own. Clearly a virtuoso, Yu’s technique dazzled us. There is always something satisfying about the sound of period instruments playing music of their era, and in Yu’s hands, the Stradivarius delivered a tone that managed to be both rich and mellow, crisp and neat at the same time.

The Italian theme of the programme continued with the much more boisterous Roman Carnival Overture, Op.9 by Hector Berlioz. This was a much heavier sound, with the number of players greatly increased from those on stage for the Vivaldi. Standout melodic episodes from cor anglais and cello brought a lightness and contrast to intense passages of woodwind and percussion.

The showstopper ending to this concert, Ottorino Respighi’s Pines of Rome is a multi-faceted series of portraits of Rome. Each of the four movements is distinctive in mood and setting but the fourth, where the extra forces of a score of players from Wellington Brass Band brought majesty, depth, and most obviously, volume, was a grand finale. It couldn’t have been more different to the lightness of the chamber orchestra and solo violin opening the show only an hour or so earlier.

The Breaker Upperers (M) 81 Mins ★ ★ ★ ★ Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

Mel and Jen (Madeleine Sami and Jackie van Beek) do the worst job in the world: dump the loser boyfriend glued to your couch, or shake loose that needy girlfriend you still don’t understand how you acquired.

They operate their relationship break up service with panache out of a dingy office somewhere in Auckland. Whatever the break up requires, they’ll do it – whether it be a singing telegram or a faked death. In their eyes at least, they’re providing a vital service, setting people free from the shackles of monogamy. It’s only when Jen and Mel’s ex (he cheated on them both; that’s how they met) comes back to town that the cracks in their ideology start to show.

As a buddy comedy duo, Sami and van Beek rival the best. They also wrote the film, and it shows. Their brand of comedy is hilarious, fresh, and above all, centres on a woman’s perspective. There are jokes about being a white-passing brown person; jokes mocking bisexuals who talk about being bisexual too much; and jokes about periods. This is inclusive comedy for all New Zealanders, and I’m sure audiences will embrace it.

Their supporting cast is fantastic too; at times the frequent cameos feel like a who’s who of funny Kiwis. Stand-up comic Angella Dravid is understatedly hilarious as Mel and Jen’s ‘intern’ Jodie, and Boy star James Rolleston’s fabulously gormless performance as Jordan almost steals the show. The only aspect of the film that doesn’t quite stick the landing is the fierce girl posse Jen and Mel come up against, led by Sepa (Ana Scotney). They’re cringey and over-the-top, but that may be the point; their exuberant youth is a foil to Mel and Jen’s cynicism.

Even in its more formulaic moments, The Breaker Upperers feels gutsy. While it may not hit ‘instant classic’ status, it’s a welcome piece of excellent homegrown comedy. Some of the funniest comics in New Zealand are women – it’s time we saw more of them on the big screen.

Still Life with Chickens Written by D.F. Mamea Directed by Fasitua Amosa Running at Circa Theatre until 2nd Jun Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Mama’s cat, Blackie (the second), has just passed. She buries him tenderly in her garden, teasing him all the while for being “stupid and dirty”. It’s an introduction that perfectly epitomises the character. In less than two minutes, we have a firm impression of Mama – a hilarious, sassy, profoundly lonely woman.

Starring Goretti Chadwick as Mama, I would argue David Fa’auliuli Mamea’s Still Life with Chickens is a two-hander, not a one-woman show. There’s another force to be reckoned with on stage: Helen Fuller’s marvellously-made chicken, puppeteered by Haanz Fa’avae-Jackson.

Still Life with Chickens is essentially a tale of an old woman’s friendship with a stray chicken. It is how the chicken is brought to life that makes the simple story so magical.

Fa’avae-Jackson is not an invisible puppeteer. Dressed in bright yellow, he’s not even a discreet one. However, even when he is standing right in front of me I find myself forgetting he is there. Such is the power of his animation, vocal effects, and the captivating construction of the chicken itself. Chadwick’s relationship with the chicken too is totally transcendent. This is a warm, touching friendship that we can all relate to.

Chadwick’s generous approach to Mamea’s well-developed, universally-charming character is heart-warming. Honed by Amosa, her comedic sensibilities make for some hugely entertaining scenes too.

Marcus McShane’s lovely lighting design depicts night and day in dreamlike shades. Alongside John Parker’s suburban garden set, the design creates a welcoming and bright stage picture.

Still Life with Chickens is deceptively simple. At just 45 minutes, I only realise I’ve been emotionally affected by it when the house lights rise. Mamea’s writing never veers into the sentimental, while the talent I see is so natural I don’t even feel like I’m watching a performance. The length is perfect for this work. The fat has been trimmed, the cast and crew’s efforts poured into making every moment matter.

Spielberg 147 Mins ★ ★ ★ ★ Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

Steven Spielberg, one of the world’s most famous Hollywood directors, never attended film school. The undisputed king of blockbuster filmmaking did, however, change the tenor of film forever with his masterpieces Jaws, E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, Indiana Jones, Saving Private Ryan, and countless others.

In Spielberg, the camera is turned on the director with fascinating results. Extensive interviews with the man himself, as well as dozens of his family members, friends, and filmmaking peers reveal the stories behind his most famous works, but also his personal life and filmmaking failures. Some of the most lauded names in film criticism (David Edelstein, J. Hoberman) pop up too to put Spielberg’s films into a broader context.

Director Susan Lacy originally recorded 30 hours of exclusive interviews with Spielberg, so it goes without saying that we hear from him a lot. As one of the most accomplished filmmakers of all time, he speaks with both humour and gravitas. He talks extensively about his painful experiences as a child of divorce, and how it formed the basis for many of his best-loved pictures. More interesting, however, is the insight others give into him, like his friend and fellow director Brian de Palma’s remark that “he was always trying to lighten things up – that’s Steven.”

Many of the talking heads agree that Spielberg had a preternatural gift for filmmaking. He instinctively works with pictures as others work with paint or words. “The camera is my pen,” the director says. But Spielberg also observes how wonderfully he works with actors. Behind-the-scenes footage of E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial shows how he put the kids at ease with a sometimes-fatherly, oft-playful approach. After a particularly heart-wrenching shoot, we see Spielberg help the (totally adorable) five-year-old Drew Barrymore wipe away her tears – and her dolly’s, too.

Spielberg moves within themes and time periods with ease and clarity. It’s an interesting watch if you’re mildly acquainted with Spielberg, but would be fascinating for hardcore fans. Spielberg is screening at 6:30pm on the 20th of May as part of the Doc Edge Festival.

Kim Swims 175 Mins ★ ★ ★ ★ Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

On an otherwise ordinary morning in 2007, Kim Chambers fell down the stairs and whacked her leg on a heavy pot. Hours later, she woke up in a hospital bed only to be told that she had a rare condition called Acute Compartment Syndrome, and her leg had been saved with just half an hour to spare. The doctors said she only had a one percent chance of ever walking again.

Today, Chambers says the accident is the best thing to ever happen to her. She not only walks with ease, but she swims huge distances; she’s considered one of the most accomplished marathon swimmers in the world.

In Kim Swims, directed by Kate Webber, we follow Chambers as she prepares to tackle one of the most difficult swims in the seven seas: the 50-kilometre stretch from the Farallon Islands to the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco Bay. It’s known for its frigid temperatures, swirling currents, and as home to the world’s largest great white sharks. Only four men have completed the swim – Chambers wants to be the first woman to do so.

Chambers is a lovely subject. Her natural charm, humility, and obvious drive are immediately appealing. Before the accident, she admits she might have been “a little shallow”. Now, she radiates a calm that may come from a near-death experience – or maybe just hours and hours swimming in the sea.

Interviews with Chambers are paired with candid footage of her swimming and spending time with her friends and swim club. The editing is slow and dreamy, reminiscent of the gentle lap of waves on the shore. In a field dominated by jump cuts and sensationalist imagery, Kim Swims is a remarkably soothing documentary experience.

While Chambers’ story could become the stuff of motivational cheese, Kim Swims lends a light touch to its inspirational story. It’s less a story of one extraordinary woman, and more a story of an ordinary woman who overcame extraordinary circumstances.

Heath Franklin’s Chopper: Bogan Jesus Written by Heath Franklin The Opera House, 5th May Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

I went along to Heath Franklin’s Chopper: Bogan Jesus with some trepidation: what lies beneath that massive mo? Though I’m a Chopper fan, I’d only seen him on Three’s 7 Days so didn’t know what to expect from a substantial stand-up set. What is Chopper really like? Turns out he is pretty much the epitome of bogan in the best possible way.

Chopper takes the stage 15 minutes late in true bogan, mildly frustrating style. He’s just died, and is lying on a table draped all in white. A voice emerges from the heavens. It’s God.

God is upset that nobody really likes him anymore. Enter Chopper, who’s given one hour to devise a new religion and convince us it’s a good’un. Rewriting the ten commandments in real time, he works in tandem with God to recruit us – his Chopostles – to build the Kingdom of Chopper right here on Earth.

There are no dull moments in this show, nor are there any jokes that don’t land. Chopper covers some tricky terrain – topics like homosexuality and Islam have the audience holding their collective breath, waiting to be offended, but it never happens. Though he’s crude as all hell, he’s not a bigot. In fact, an unexpected section about women’s rights and equal pay has the crowd whooping with admiration. Another highlight for me is a rather animated impression of a leaf blower, or “f**kbroom”, but that’s a story for another day.

Underneath Chopper’s unkempt and crass façade, there’s actually a gentleman capable of creating pretty clever comedy. Someone who is absolutely not a “f**kwit”, and who believes other people shouldn’t be either.

It’s hard to describe what an hour of watching Chopper live does to a person, but when I emerged from the theatre, I felt full of gusto. Like I wanted to eat a lot of red meat and smash stuff, but in a nice way. This life-loving, tolerance-touting, stout-swigging maestro can be my Mossiah any day.

Just a Phase Written by Hayley Sproull BATS Theatre, 1st May Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

At the tender age of 28, comedian and writer Hayley Sproull has stomped through life as a baby goth, emo, hippy feminist, and… an anxious 20-something with a long-term boyfriend? She’s not too sure about that one.

In Just a Phase, Sproull takes us through all her phases – as well as the lost periods in-between – via stand-up comedy, storytelling, song, and even a bit of dance. While the piece is presented as part of the NZ International Comedy Festival, Just a Phase has a stronger narrative than most stand-up comedy I’ve seen. It’s a coherent, polished style that I found myself easing into – and that more importantly, is absolutely hilarious.

Everything Sproull did on stage, she did incredibly well. She’s instantly likeable; the exact kind of person you take to the pub for a good time and even better conversation. Her singing voice, rapid piano-playing, and even her projection (we didn’t miss a word) was pitch-perfect. With so much obvious talent, I couldn’t help wondering why Sproull isn’t more famous. Someone put her on TV already!

Nearly every line gets a laugh from the full house at BATS. Sproull is fearless not only in her delivery, but in her physicality; as she moves between phases, she strips down to her underwear (apologising to her parents, who were present in the audience, as she does so). In telling the stories of her adolescence so frankly, she touches on some universal truths, as well as some that are particular to women who grew up in New Zealand in the 2000s. It was refreshing and incredibly validating to hear stories of feminine sexual experimentation and awakening – even when it included, ahem, what used to go on at those inter-school dances.

Just a Phase is not ‘just’ any old comedy show. It’s a bold yet light-hearted tale of the ongoing work of finding yourself. Like everything Sproull does, it’s a show that goes “full hundy”, packed full of jokes with a surprisingly light touch.

A Quiet Place (M) 90 Mins ★ ★ ★ ½ Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

In a recent interview with LA Times, director and star of A Quiet Place John Krasinski said he used to hate horror movies. But in recent years, his mind has been opened to the possibilities of the much-maligned genre with the so-called “elevated horror” film (think Get Out, The Babadook). While A Quiet Place is certainly Krasinski’s biggest directorial success to date, it’s perhaps not quite as clever as he would like it to be.

The film is set in a not-too-distant future when monsters (or aliens, who knows) have invaded Earth and wiped out most of its population. While blind, the monsters have very, very good hearing – so you better not knock over a glass or even sneeze too loudly if you want to avoid a grisly, almost immediate death. An all-American family, the Regans, have escaped to the countryside, where they have built a survivalist’s dream; a bunker complete with (silent) emergency signals and shelves of pickles. They’ve survived with good old-fashioned know-how and a fortunate knowledge of American Sign Language, as their daughter (Millicent Simmonds) is Deaf. It’s revealed pretty quickly that Mama Regan (Krasinski’s real-life wife, Emily Blunt) is expecting their fourth child.

Sound is an essential tool in any horror director’s kit, and in A Quiet Place it’s the central gimmick. It’s a hugely effective way to wind up tension in an otherwise mundane scene, not to mention in another, more heightened scene featuring a very important nail.

However, once you’ve unstuck your hands from your eyes, it’s pretty easy to pick at A Quiet Place. My companion remarked that it was a good thing most of the film was silent, because the dialogue it did have was awful.

The best horror films – Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Night of the Living Dead amongst them – are a commentary on what we fear. While A Quiet Place was well-shot and shied away from the gratuitous, it didn’t engage convincingly with any of the fears that gnaw at our collective stomachs.

Berlioz, Debussy & Ravel Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Edo de Waart Michael Fowler Centre, 21st Apr Reviewed by Tamsin Evans

Salina Fisher’s Tupaia is the first piece in the series commissioned by the NZSO for the 250th anniversary of James Cook’s landfall on New Zealand’s coast in 1769. Knowing this, the music brought to mind the sight of a ship emerging from a haze. In the same way, the opening eerie and tangled sounds of the music gradually resolved their confusion, just as Cook’s progressive encounters with local Māori revealed each other to both the explorers and tāngata whenua.

Sasha Cooke, mezzo soprano, joined the orchestra with a supremely confident entry at the first bar of Berlioz’s Les nuits d’été. Her performance was magnificent. Great projection (who needs amplifying when you can do that?) and incredibly good balance with the orchestra showed off her glorious voice and musicianship brilliantly. Edo de Waart showed us again how he can capture and hold the audience’s attention throughout the cycle of six songs with an expert hand and skilful playing from the orchestra.

Debussy’s La Mer was definitely not a tropical, Pacific Ocean paradise on a bright, clear day. Grey and green, with kelp, shingle, and rock pools, this performance took us to a sea in the Northern Hemisphere, or perhaps Wellington’s South Coast.

The fabulous finale was the very familiar Boléro by Maurice Ravel. De Waart’s programme notes told us this was fun to play and great to listen to live. He was absolutely right on both counts. The pace felt fast, the snare drum (Leonard Sakofsky) maintaining its strictly repetitive rhythm and taking the orchestra along for the ride. While the beat was maintained below the line, the orchestra enjoyed their opportunities to shine as they batted the themes smoothly between themselves. There is nothing else like this piece. Any composer trying something similar would appear a poor imitation and, with such a tour de force in the repertoire, why would you try?

The Killers TSB Bank Arena, 21st Apr Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Humbly, The Killers stride on stage. The understated entrance would be their only modest moment of the evening, but this band has earned the bravado they exude. The instantly recognisable introduction of Mr. Brightside blares. The crowd goes wild.

The Killers played 16 songs and four encores over close to two hours in a generous and unbelievable display of energy – particularly from showman extraordinaire Brandon Flowers. We heard a mix of old and new, but the bulk of the setlist comprised hits from The Killers’ legendary debut studio album Hot Fuss. Five new tracks from Wonderful Wonderful were tested on a doting audience, interspersed with a nigh-equal mix of Battle Born, Day & Age, and Sam’s Town classics. The setlist was so well curated the evening felt inorganic, though nobody wanting to hear 15 years’ worth of The Killers’ repertoire was complaining.

Highlights for me included the powerful introduction to A Dustland Fairytale; the confetti explosion (and Flowers’ gyrations) in The Man; the rousing chorus of Human, sung exultantly by the audience; and the otherworldly laser light display in Spaceman. I also immensely enjoyed the stoic expressions of the band’s supremely talented touring guitarist Ted Sablay.

Overall, I still feel conflicted about this concert. There is absolutely no doubt that it was a great party, and the audience had a blast. However, I just didn’t feel any emotional connection to the band or their songs – even those Wonderful Wonderful tracks proclaimed by Flowers to feature “the most personal and bare” of the lyrics he has written.

To me, the most emotionally resonant moment of the concert actually came from an audience member: Taylor, who was selected at random from a sea of thousands to play drums on For Reasons Unknown live onstage. The rapture on his face as he picked up those drum sticks (and nailed the solo) was palpable and poignant. I felt as if I was watching a life change before my very eyes. Kudos to The Killers for facilitating such joy.

Seven Deadly Stunts Written and performed by Lizzie Tollemache and David Ladderman Running at Circa Theatre until 5th May Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

After a dazzling stint at Circa last year, Cantabrian carnie couple Lizzie Tollemache and David Ladderman are back – this time with a stunt show that defies all expectations. Their new work takes the audience through seven of the deadliest stunts in carnie history, not just in explanation, but in riveting, rollicking action.

The chemistry between these born performers drives their cleverly-curated show. Tollemache and Ladderman successfully entrance the audience into believing their lives are on the line, evoking our sense of morbid fascination and heightening it at every turn. Not only are we watching two people inch closer and closer to spiky, sharp, burning danger; we’re watching a marriage edge there too.

The first act is Russian Roulette, this time played with industrial strength staple guns. The victor of a crowd-wide game of heads or tails is selected to shoot Ladderman in the hand, arm, abdomen, and forehead, with no one seated or on stage knowing whether she’s using a loaded gun.

Tollemache then walks on broken glass. The crunching beneath her feet, and eventually her face, is accentuated with a microphone perfectly placed to maximise audience discomfort.

Ladderman masters the third stunt, but it’s the only moment where my belief in the illusion wavers. In this act, he demonstrates the deadly nature of a bowling ball, a chainsaw, and an apple before juggling the three with consummate showmanship and talent. However, the bowling ball is blatantly swapped offstage and I feel as if my intelligence has been underestimated.

The show then moves to a Houdini-esque escape from chains and a straightjacket. Tollemache here hilariously recruits a Navy member to bind her. The flirtation that ensues is a show highlight for me (though not for Ladderman).

Whips, six-inch stainless steel spikes, and fire conclude the show, the climax building as the danger and spectacle of each stunt intensifies. Jaws clench, teeth grind, squeaks of fright emit, and finally, collective sighs of relief reverberate throughout the theatre when stunts go right.

Spring Awakening Book and lyrics by Stephen Sater Directed by Ben Emerson Running at BATS Theatre until 21st April Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

I have so many thoughts and feelings about Spring Awakening, I hardly know where to begin. A childhood loving Grease and Annie made me a sucker for musicals. But I still feel confident in saying Spring Awakening is my new favourite, and Ben Emerson’s production of it is amongst the best pieces of musical theatre I’ve seen in Wellington.

The dark tale, adapted from the German classic by Frank Wedekind, is a cult favourite amongst musical theatre enthusiasts. It follows a group of young people as they come of age in a repressive patriarchal society where sex is synonymous with the devil, and pleasure is tantamount to self-destruction. While Moritz (Konrad Makisi) struggles with his grades, the “so radical” Malchior (Maxwell Apse) and sweetheart Wendla (Jessica Old) enter a naïve relationship. The characters’ entirely normal adolescent awakenings are turned into major transgressions by the adults around them with bleak and fatal results.

The depth of talent in this cast astounded me. My personal favourite was Makisi’s wide-eyed performance as the doomed Moritz. The lovely timbre of his voice was the perfect accompaniment to his complete commitment to Moritz’s nervy, and eventually anguished scenes. In fact, all of the leads were wonderful – but so were their chorus. Cassandra Tse’s powerful turn as Ilse was a show highlight, as was Hanschen and Ernst’s (Alex Rabina and Cary Stackfield’s) tryst on the top of the piano.

Jennifer Lal’s dynamic, often two-toned lighting scheme made every scene look like a music video, while Emerson’s set design was simple, but effective. The pool of water, in which stood a ladder, was a particularly interesting focal point as a gossip spot, burial site, and place of violence.

While this was a show that clearly begs for a huge stage, I loved it in the Propeller’s black box. I’ve never felt the space feel more alive. Spring Awakening is everything that a musical should be and more. Electric, fresh, passionate yet polished, this is musical theatre at its best.

Mozart & Mahler Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Edo de Waart Michael Fowler Centre, 6th Apr Reviewed by Jennie Jones and Tamsin Evans

The season is called Masterworks for a reason. The combination of international pianists Christina and Michelle Naughton, one of Mozart’s pieces of genius – Concerto for Two Pianos in E flat K.365, Maestro Edo de Waart in the director’s role, Mahler’s great Symphony No.5, and of course, the NZSO was an absolute masterwork.

Appetites whetted after the biennial New Zealand Festival, this tempting programme brought a large audience to the Michael Fowler Centre. It won’t be chance that placed the perfect number of musicians on the stage to support the virtuoso piano playing sisters. The experienced de Waart and the Michael Fowler Centre team hit the jackpot and to this listener’s ear it was as if the sound technician had adjusted the levels for perfect quadrophonic balance. The sisters certainly did not disappoint with the Mozart, but they excelled themselves with their incredible, dazzling encore of Paganini’s 24th Caprice.

Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No.5 was a great contrast. The stage had been occupied by two grand pianos and a chamber orchestra. Mahler No.5 calls for a very substantial orchestra and it seemed as if every musician on the NZSO roll had been called up. Where Mozart’s concerto left the impression of playful and delicate balance between the pianos, strings, and a small woodwind section, Mahler’s work is an immense and intense experience. It was as if by doubling the orchestra we got an exponential increase in the music, in parts perhaps three or four times as much.

By contrast with the Mozart, and with the exception of the fourth movement Adagietto, so much vitality runs through the symphony. The writhing and intertwining resembles the sinuous energy of a bed of eels. Any sense of the music as being complex and demanding for orchestra or audience was brushed aside as de Waart guided us through with an assured and supremely confident hand.

The Lie Written by Florian Zeller Directed by Ross Jolly Running at Circa Theatre until 5th May Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Two couples in the midst of an infidelity scandal lie unabashedly to one another. Alice (Claire Dougan) saw Michel (Andrew Foster) kissing a woman who was most certainly not his wife, Laurence (Bronwyn Turei). Should Alice tell Laurence? Her husband Paul (Gavin Rutherford) doesn’t think so. Is a lie bad if it’s told to preserve a friendship? A marriage? Aren’t we all guilty of telling little white lies anyway?

But the lie in The Lie isn’t a white lie. And it isn’t one lie, either. In fact, The Lie delivers one big steaming cesspit of lies, and oh boy is it fun.

Rutherford gives a sharp, intelligent performance as a man on the edge of a marriage. Replete with quivering lip, balled fists, and high-pitched panic, his childlike tantrums make for delicious viewing. Of his many highlights, my favourite is the guttural war cry: “I’m telling the truth! Everything I’ve said is a lie!” And why wouldn’t we believe him? Geez.

Dougan is sophisticated and shrewd in her role as master-manipulator. Radiating an electric aura of sagacious reasoning and intuition, she always had the upper hand in my eyes. With superb comedic timing, Dougan and Rutherford do justice (and then some) to Zeller’s rapid-fire script, never missing a beat between them.

I’ve never seen a character better suited to a shiny grey tailored suit (costume design by Sheila Horton) than Foster’s Michel. He’s suave, slick, and scrumptiously slimy, playing the character we love to hate (although there are a few in this play) with relish. Turei delivers all the charm and sparkles of a woman in love. Her appearances are a joyful breath of fresh air.

Jolly has put this fine cast together on a stylish stage (set design by Foster) illuminated by a chic, understated lighting design (Marcus McShane) and elevated by pumping music. He milks Zeller’s brilliant script with flair and gusto, drawing out the suspense to such great effect that at some points, I had to watch through my fingers.

Movers Written by James Cain Directed by Matthew Loveranes BATS Theatre, 5th April Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

Tai (Sepelini Mua’au) has finished his BA and needs a job – any job. But only to pay the rent and occupy his time between stand-up sets. When he’s hired by the two old geezers at Oscar’s Movers, he finds himself in a Stuff comments section come to life. At first, he’s keen to turn Oscar (Lloyd Scott) and Bruce (John Landreth) into material for his comedy, but he finds himself unexpectedly bonding with his knotty, weird work whānau.

James Cain’s writing is incredibly well-observed. Played with a lovely depth by Landreth, the old Pākehā character Bruce drew plenty of laughter (and I imagine, silent winces). Cain is not afraid to be sharp on Bruce’s casual racism and misogyny, but takes a beautifully gentle approach to his humanity. While I think a lot of the largely millennial audience at BATS would dislike a person like Bruce on sight, Movers made us if not love, then at least understand him.

Lloyd and Mua’au do wonderful work as Oscar and Tai respectively. It was so refreshing to see a “bougie Samoan” from Ponsonby onstage; Tai’s passionate takedown of the racist pseudoscience phrenology was a particular highlight. While I did love watching the men’s story unfurl, the last half an hour was a little bloated, and occasionally risked tipping the insights into Bruce’s character from subtle to sentimental.

Lucas Neal’s boxed-up set was simple and playful, with a ramp and platform upstage that acted as both moving truck and stand-up comedy stage. However, the staging of the show meant that the wide, shallow space of the Heyday Dome was a little under-utilised. Most of the action took place in the centre, with two walls of cardboard boxes acting as wings.

Movers is a sophisticated examination of the intergenerational, racial, and class tension that New Zealanders grapple with in the workplace and beyond. Rather than pitting millennial against baby boomer for easy laughs, Movers delves deep into its characters to focus on human warmth and connection.

Our Country’s Good Written by Timberlake Wertenbaker Directed by Joanne Lisik Gryphon Theatre, 4th Apr Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

After eight harrowing months at sea, a shipload of convicts arrives at Botany Bay to establish the first penal colony in New South Wales. Royal Marines punish and prod, whip and lash as the criminals – mostly petty thieves – live out a hellish existence in the wasteland. But there is one ray of hope: 2nd Lt Ralph Clark RM (James Boag) decides to stage a production of The Recruiting Officer. For six months, he rehearses with the exiles as the life-changing capacity of theatre comes to light.

This Wellington Repertory production is beautifully set (design by Joanne Lisik) on a long, horizontal stage replete with an open marquee, a corner deck, dirt, suitcases, and neutral, earthy colours that evoke barren land. The costumes, particularly those of of the guards, are striking, adding tinges of bright red remnant of the blood shed at Botany Bay. Often, we watch the cast disrobe and dress, transforming from guard to prisoner, keeper to kept and back again. These scenes are visceral and gritty, adding a deeper dimension to the script’s themes of crime and punishment. The actors fully commit, vulnerable and brave in their state of undress.

Contemporary dance is woven throughout the production, often to poignant effect. Lisik has integrated movement to “draw out the subtext”, a move that doesn’t sit right with me in one scene. Immediately after Midshipman Harry Brewer RN (Patrick McTague) throttles prisoner Ann (aka Duckling) Smith (Anna Chambers) and calls her a whore, the pair embark on a passionate stylised tango infused with frenzied desire. Though the choreography was wonderful and its execution flawless, the moment to me signified a glorification of abuse and violence. The decision to romanticise the relationship that early on, before we discover that Duckling is in fact (bizarrely and problematically) in love with Brewer, made me feel quite uncomfortable.

Nevertheless, Wellington Repertory Theatre deserves a resounding bravo for the efforts and talent they have poured into this polished, professional production.

Love, Simon (M) 110 Mins ★ ★ ★ ½ Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

Simon Spier (Nick Robinson) is an all-American everyboy who lives in a big house in the suburbs. His parents (Josh Duhamel and Jennifer Garner) are high-achieving but always available; he’s got the money for a car and a daily iced coffee run; and he has three best friends with whom he shares everything. He’s just got one big secret: he’s gay.

When a fellow closeted teen known as Blue posts on the school’s unofficial gossip blog, Simon strikes up an e-relationship. Unfortunately, their messages are discovered one day by class clown Martin, who demands Simon play Cupid in return for his silence.

While the blackmail-driven plot is a tad contrived, the ride Love, Simon takes us on is great fun. Jack Antonoff, frontman of band fun. and Lorde’s best mate, was the executive music producer for the film, and it shows. His distinctive touch makes the movie sparkle with modern synth-pop in an obvious nod to John Hughes.

The script is peppered with zingy one-liners (“Can we get some hummus for this baby carrot?”), and is occasionally affecting, such as when Garner tells her son that he “can exhale now” after coming out. However, a lot of Simon’s world is rendered blandly two-dimensional. His friends are racially diverse but scrubbed squeaky clean. The two jocks who spout homophobic slurs at Simon are hilariously unthreatening. The romantic pay-off (at the top of a ferris wheel, no less) is still sweet; but there’s a touch of Hollywood sterility to it that I can’t ignore.

Love, Simon is the kind of film that I longed for as a queer teenager. It’s funny, easy to watch, and best of all, the gay subject is at the centre of the film. It avoids many of the tropes of queer art – notably, no-one dies at the end. But besides the boy-on-boy romance, Love, Simon is essentially a run of the mill teenage rom-com. A film this conventional is a nice gesture, but it would have been more welcome a decade ago.

Tomb Raider (M) 118 Mins ★ ★ ½ Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

Lara Croft has once again been dusted off and wheeled out from the pop culture archives. When I heard about this latest reboot starring Oscar award-winner Alicia Vikander, I was reminded of the latest Spiderman films – no-one asked for this, but here we are. As I suspected, this Tomb Raider is ultimately an unnecessary snooze-fest.

Vikander plays Lara Croft as we’ve never seen her before: young, directionless, wearing clean clothes. We first meet her in East London, where she works as a bike courier and fails to attend her university classes. Lara learns that if she does not claim her inheritance, her late father’s illustrious estate will be sold off. Although she is reluctant to do so, she gains access to her father’s office and learns that the secret to his mysterious death may lie on the mystical island of Yamatai.

The highlight of Tomb Raider is Vikander’s gritty, vulnerable performance. From her boxing lessons in London to her near-drowning off the coast of Hong Kong, Lara gets beat up pretty bad, and Vikander doesn’t play it down. But she also portrays an emotional vulnerability in her stubborn belief that he father is still alive, and her determination to make her own way in the world. Unlike Angelina Jolie’s shark-punching action doll, Vikander’s Lara is a richly-drawn, well-rounded character.

Unfortunately, Vikander alone cannot sustain my interest for the film’s duration. The first act of the film drags dreadfully, and when we do get to the good bits, it rings hollow with tired action tropes. For a second the film looks like it may head in a supernatural direction, but in the end settles for a mundane conclusion (I won’t say any more).

Most of all, what Tomb Raider is missing is the sense of possibility, the adolescent giddiness that the video games excelled at. If a reboot can’t add anything new to a franchise, or even match the original, then what’s the point? Perhaps Tomb Raider would be best left back on the shelf.

Anderson & Roe Piano Duo Presented by Chamber Music New Zealand Michael Fowler Centre, 17th Mar Reviewed by Emily Sharp

This was one of the most outstanding Chamber Music New Zealand concerts I have attended. I’ve had my favourite performers and pieces that have stayed with me, and I thoroughly enjoy every single concert I attend. But I felt that Anderson & Roe was a very different experience and left me with a stronger afterthought than other concerts have.

I usually scour the programme pre-concert, as I always enjoy the foreword by Peter Walls. He notes Anderson & Roe’s concerts are “musically satisfying”, and I couldn’t agree more. They challenge what you expect to hear, adapt components of the pieces, and serve up something extraordinary, leaving you more than satisfied – overfull, but in a comfortable, indulgent sense.

As I’ve mentioned before I don’t particularly enjoy jazz or contemporary music, so Anderson & Roe’s first piece Prelude, Fugue, and Riffs was a little jarring for me. Hallelujah Junction then eased me into the duo a little more. Hallelujah Junction is written about driving down and a specific stop along the California highway. Anderson first heard the piece while driving through the New Zealand countryside, and encouraged us to liken its imagery to landscapes we have experienced. My native MacKenzie Country is quite like the Nevada-California border; I could hear the jagged rhythm of the hills in the music and the continual flow of plains interrupted by the melody of trees. I will definitely listen to this next time I am in MacKenzie.

Leading on from this was Anderson & Roe’s own Hallelujah Variations, an adaptation of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah. This was the most incredible thing I’ve heard in this hall. It was heart breaking, addictive, and just like the entire theme of the concert - transcendent. I felt that this tied in with the metaphor that they were exploring within the piece; the very real world, and the highs and lows we experience within it. Perhaps that’s why it spoke to me, and when you have performers who make you listen with your heart and your ears, you hear things entirely differently.

At the Wake Written by Victor Rodger Directed by Jane Yonge Circa Theatre, 21st Mar Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Joan’s (Lisa Harrow’s) daughter Olivia is dead. Her grandson, Olivia’s son Robert (Marco Alosio), has flown in from New York to attend the funeral. Robert’s father Tofi (Jerome Leota) left Olivia when she was 15 and pregnant. He never makes contact with the family again – until he shows up midway through the service and is invited by Robert to the wake.

All hell ensues.

Joan is livid because Tofi left her daughter, pregnant and heartbroken. Because Tofi abandoned his son. Because her daughter shacked up with a Samoan man in the first place. Because her grandson won’t let her drink any more whisky at the wake. Because Tofi won’t accept Robert’s homosexuality. Because she is getting older, and forgetting things.

Joan is livid because someone she loved didn’t love her back.

Never before have I heard such a vocal audience. We yelled, we cried, we gasped, we roared with laughter as one. Often we’d emit the kind of blasphemy that Joan would appreciate. My personal favourite moment was when, in total silence, a single “auē” reverberated through the theatre. As the lights faded to black, every single person leapt to their feet in less than a heartbeat.

Rodger’s script is a devastating exploration of loss and discrimination – against race, class, homosexuality, and religion – executed by a pen sharp as a sword and a mind the same. In the same breath, it might be the funniest play I’ve ever seen.

Every single element of this production is flawless. Harrow’s Joan is biting, broken, snarling, profound. Alosio’s Robert is gentle, perceptive, quietly magnetic. Leota’s Tofi is big, rich, full, deep. Director Yonge draws even better out of the best. Perfection plays out on a vast, monochromatic set alive with life and loss (design by Sean Coyle). The stage breathes with Jennifer Lal’s elegant lighting design, and crackles with Alex Sipahioglu’s clever sound design, where silence is given space to echo.

At the Wake is a masterpiece.

Switzerland Written by Joanna Murray-Smith Directed by Susan Wilson Running at Circa Theatre until 14th Apr Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Patricia Highsmith (Catherine Downes) lives by herself in the Swiss Alps. She writes, drinks, and dances to showtunes alone until Edward Ridgeway (Simon Leary) arrives. Following an incident involving an unwanted visitor and a knife, Mr Ridgeway has been sent by Highsmith’s publishing company to obtain the rights to the last instalment of The Talented Mr. Ripley series. Whether the prolific, reclusive author will or won’t sign the contract becomes the least of our questions as the story unfolds.

Joanna Murray-Smith’s script is witty and playful, filled with one-liners that sizzle while the mystery cracks on. Underneath the zing and pluck of Highsmith is real, tender depth – she’s not a nice character by any means, but she’s a complex one whose nuances are explored with expertise and craftmanship by both playwright and actor. The character of Ridgeway too is so well developed, I initially got the complete wrong end of the stick when contemplating the events of the finale. I won’t spoil anything here, but one of my hypotheses centred on this character as the focal point of the story and the instigator of the drama, not Highsmith! Therein lies the power of this psychological thriller: an ambiguous but powerful ending that provokes conversation and intrigue, long after the curtain has fallen.

Leary’s Ridgeway is radiant. He navigates the twisting trajectory of his character with ease, beginning as a quietly-confident, twittering man and ending as one who dominates the room. His aura as the latter is electric.

Marcus McShane’s lighting design evokes the mountainside in interludes and depicts the sunrise with majesty and beauty. Within scenes, the lights sometimes dimmed unexpectedly – upon reflection I understand why, but at the time I found the changes of state distracting. Though a gifted actor, Downes’ bidialectal accent also withdrew me from the action at times.

Tony De Goldi’s set and Sheila Horton’s costumes create a lovely neutral picture when combined, allowing one’s imagination to run wild and free with Murray-Smith’s superb script.

Peter and The Wolf Adapted by Sophie Roberts and Leon Radojkovic Directed by Sophie Roberts Soundings Theatre, 14th Mar Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

In this Silo Theatre reimagination of Sergei Prokofiev’s beloved Peter and The Wolf, puppeteering and multimedia design fuse to create a captivating stage picture: one that I’ve not seen before, and one that I’d dearly love to see again.

Peter has moved from Russia to Auckland, where he lives in a park clearing with his grumpy grandad. He is lonely in his monotonous routine until he meets a sweet sparrow, a duck who can’t fly, a (scaredy)cat, and a big but not so bad wolf. The script has been both localised and modernised, often to great effect. Some changes though detract too much from the original story and are a little confusing.

A symphonic fairytale, Prokofiev wrote Peter and The Wolf as a child’s introduction to the orchestra. By not having a full orchestra on stage, the composition’s educational factor is lost, though the contemporary sounds emanating from the drums, vibraphone, bass guitar, and keyboard serve the tone of the piece well.

The original tale also communicates that there is real danger in the world. In Silo Theatre’s adaptation, Peter was never afraid of the wolf, and the duck lived happily ever after in an island paradise bar in the creature’s belly. In place of Peter and The Wolf’s original message, this plot twist could have served as a great lesson to be brave, and to not judge a book by its cover. I would have loved if Peter had started the story afraid, and then changed his mind when he realised the wolf was just lonely too. If the story is no longer teaching, one has to ask what it is doing.

Nevertheless, this adaptation is totally charming. John Coddington’s puppets are artfully constructed, as are Daniel Williams’ miniature sets. Julie Zhu’s live videography is well-executed, while Rachel Marlow’s lighting design – carried out on a tiny scale – is ingenious. Adding his storytelling prowess to the mix is narrator Nathaniel Lees, whose warm and elegant vocal tones elevate an already delightful work.

Cécile McLorin Salvant & The Aaron Diehl Trio Michael Fowler Centre, 13th Mar Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

I’m not the biggest fan of jazz music. In fact, in my third standing ovation for Cécile McLorin Salvant and The Aaron Diehl Trio, I proclaimed to my friend (too loudly) “and I don’t even like jazz!” Suffice it to say, I’ve been converted.

You may ask why a nonfan of jazz would chose to see this New Zealand Festival show. While perusing the programme, I googled Cécile and fell apart listening to Nobody. Her voice is liquid gold.

The concert got off to a slow start. The first song, Devil May Care by Bob Dorough, began with an instrumental by The Aaron Diehl Trio before Cécile emerged in an unassuming blue dress and raised the microphone. Though technically executed to perfection, her oft-staccato vocals in the first two pieces – both Dorough’s – didn’t capture me. This may have been because Cécile didn’t acknowledge the audience in performance until the third song – the astounding Si J'etais Blanche (If I Were White) by Joséphine Baker. While it was captivating to watch someone so absorbed in a song that all else fades away, I have to admit I started craving a little bit of showmanship from her.

By that third song, I had it.

Everything went uphill from this moment, though we were already so high up on that hill that it may as well have been a mountain from which ascended a ladder to the heavens. For an hour and a half, I lost myself. I forgot who I was, where I was, where I had been, or where I was going. My life was simply that sensational voice, the unrivalled virtuosity of the Aaron Diehl Trio, and the enveloping warmth of this concert.

Highlights included Cécile’s transcendent performance of Wild Women Don’t Have the Blues by Ida Cox; Aaron Diehl’s masterful piano interludes; the suaveness with which Paul Sikivie plucked that double bass; and every time I looked at drummer Kyle Poole, whose joy was radiant.

Wild Dogs Under My Skirt Written by Tusiata Avia Directed by Anapela Polata’ivao Hannah Playhouse, 10th March Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

I never knew the significance of pisupo (canned pea soup or corned beef) until I saw Wild Dogs Under My Skirt. This fiery, tenacious production has come to Wellington with the New Zealand Festival after an award-winning run at the Mangare Arts Centre – and before that, toured the world for nearly a decade as a one-woman show starring its author, Tusiata Avia.

Six Samoan voices tell loosely-connected stories of womanhood, spinning melodic yarns on everything from food to sex; family ties to big feet. These vignettes are performed as monologues, and the characters rarely interact with each other in dialogue – but they nevertheless are joined in mutual love and support. While one character is speaking, the remaining five act as a chorus, or wrap each other in an embrace, or sit at her feet as if they are children listening to a story.

The set is minimal; it features six chairs and a stack of tins. Most of the sound comes from a single drummer sitting in the rafters. On occasion, non-diegetic sound – often Pākehā voices – plays over speakers to add context to a piece. For me, these feel unnecessary; they verge on the didactic, and more importantly, they break the magic of the space.

However, this is a minor gripe. The writing and performances are extremely powerful. The superb cast make the details in each monologue pop – like in Tusiata’s (played by Stacey Leilua) piece bemoaning her size 12 feet, or the delight Malia (Saane Green) finds in pisupo. The last scene towers above the rest for its visceral power. Director Anapela Polata’ivao is conspicuously silent on stage as Teine Sa until she comes forth with this ferocious piece, which ends with the whole cast on all fours, snarling at the audience.

Wild Dogs Under My Skirt gathers all the details of being a Samoan woman together and blows them up so that a universe appears. It’s a triumph, not just for Pasifika theatre, but for New Zealand in the 21st century.

Home Created by Geoff Sobelle Directed by Lee Sunday Evans The Opera House, 7th March Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

It’s hard to know what to expect from Home, a show that promises to be about a house. Presented by the New Zealand Festival, Home is, yes, about a house. But more than that, it’s about all the life that happens within one – the mundane and momentous; the bad, good, and everything in-between.

Home begins with one man, strolling around The Opera House’s deep stage with a worker’s light. He drags a wooden frame onstage and staples a plastic sheet to it. He props it up, and as if by magic, a bed, a door, and a lamp appear. Characters from his life begin to appear; a lover, a mother, a son.

From there, Home builds on itself, until a huge, two-storeyed set is onstage. Sliced in half like an open dollhouse, this magnificent set is replete with a staircase, bedroom, bathroom, study, living room, and kitchen. Our cast of six, including one child, slink onstage via a series of enthralling illusions, popping out from a wardrobe, behind a shower curtain, or out of blankets. There are no characters or narrative, just the flow of day and night. It’s punctuated only by the sweet, slightly melancholic country ditties performed by multi-instrumentalist Elvis Perkins, who also composed them.

As the cast begins to invite audience members onstage, the mood rises palpably, and we run through all the big moments in a life: graduation, marriage, and even death. The result is a riotously good time – like the best house party you can ever imagine. By the end of the show, the audience is chatting openly, pointing out characters’ actions onstage, and laughing as fairy lights are pulled across the stalls. The atmosphere is almost familial; certainly, we have formed a community at Home tonight.

The slow, subtle way Home breaks down the barrier between audience and cast is masterful. This is immersive theatre at its most effective, but at the same time appears effortless.

À Ố Làng Phố Presented by Nouveau Cirque du Vietnam Directed by Tuan Le St James, 8th Mar Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

À Ố Làng Phố depicts provincial Vietnamese life in the context and contrast of rapid urbanisation. It is a circus unlike anything I have seen before, where acrobatics, gymnastics, theatre, and music combine to tell an impressively-unbiased story. While village and city; tradition and innovation clash and intertwine, Director Le does not criticise or even comment. I would go as far as to call À Ố Làng Phố ‘observational circus’.

The result of such an objective vision is fascinating: À Ố Làng Phố tells a story of substance and interest that immerses its audience. With no didactics in the way we are delightfully lost in spectacle, and yet we are still intrigued, learning, focused. It’s an attentive escapist’s heaven.

Over an hour and 10 minutes, a series of vignettes take place, each varying in style, atmosphere, length, and pace. Some scenes are slower than others but are allowed more time, while upbeat routines featuring incredible stunts are often stifled quickly. Transitions take place in the dark, leaving audiences to fidget while sets are brought on and taken off stage. As the acrobats possess great showmanship, I wonder if the lights had to go out at all.

Props are interchangeable: performers balance on bamboo poles, which are then used as oars, production lines, and apartment scaffolds; woven rattan baskets act as boats, beetles’ backs, and ducks; and nong (sieves) double as frisbees in a particularly upbeat, kooky scene.

15 acrobats perform typical circus stunts with a twist. A magnificent routine that unites aerial hoops and a cyr wheel – which later becomes airborne – puts me in mind of freedom and the flight of birds, while contortion is utilised to comedic effect when a performer instructs us to clap, with her feet, from the top of a human pyramid.

The music (directed by Nguyen Nhat Ly) is incredible. Five onstage musicians perform both traditional Vietnamese music (cai luong) and hip-hop bangers (featuring live beat boxing) with consummate talent.

Red Sparrow (R16) 140 Mins ★ ★ ½ Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

Red Sparrow is the latest stylish spy thriller to hit our screens in the post-Oscar season. It reunites Hunger Games star Jennifer Lawrence with its director, Francis Lawrence (no relation), for a far more grown-up adventure.

Based on the novel of the same name by Jason Matthews, Red Sparrow follows Russian prima ballerina Domenika Egorova after a devastating injury puts a stop to her dancing career. Her sick mother (Joely Richardson) needs expensive nursing care, so she is enlisted by her creepy uncle (Matthias Schoenaerts) into the SVR intelligence agency for the state. At “whore school”, she learns to tease information out of people using her body, sexuality – and her love. A star pupil, Egorova is sent on a mission to Budapest, which ends in disaster when she falls for “the handsome American” Nate Nash (Joel Edgerton).

Marketed as a film for women’s empowerment, I struggled to get past the ham-fisted anti-Russian sentiment. What is this, 1962? The exploitation of Domenika’s body – of which there are many grisly instances – is used to demonstrate how horrible, how invasive communism is to personal liberty. This is not feminism; this is using the degradation of a conventionally attractive female body to parade American ideals of freedom. Maybe Red Sparrow’s producers should have read the room; America the Great hasn’t been doing so well.

And oh, Jennifer Lawrence. This is far from her best performance; her hokey Russian accent inhibits her from expressing anything resembling emotion. Her relationship with Nate is so flat that I found Red Sparrow’s last act rather confusing – it was only upon reading a synopsis that I realised they were meant to be in love! An otherwise talented performer, Lawrence needs to get away from these Hollywood beasts and find a role in which she can flex.

At over two hours, Red Sparrow is not an easy watch. With no less than four sexual assaults shown onscreen, I was questioning its R16 rating before its conclusion. It seems that, when it comes to Hollywood, women’s pain is still less offensive than women’s pleasure.

Grizzly Bear 4th of March 2018 The Opera House, Wellington Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

New York band Grizzly Bear has, for me, always been more about the head than the heart. This quintet make music for musicians – very technically skilled, with very interesting compositions, but that occasionally rings hollow. I approached their concert in Wellington expecting a polished performance, hoping they would play their more emotionally-resonant songs.

Presented as part of the New Zealand Festival, Grizzly Bear started on time and without a support act (not overly rock ‘n’ roll, but much appreciated on a Sunday night). From the outset, Grizzly Bear’s performance was coolly understated. The enigmatic, beautiful lighting design left the band in half-shadow or silhouette for much of the show and must have been operated live – it bounced and dipped in time with Chris Taylor’s bass drum.

Grizzly Bear have been playing together for almost a decade, and so we were treated with a selection of tracks from their impressive back catalogue, including their huge indie hit Two Weeks from breakthrough album Veckatimest. We also heard a substantial amount of their new LP Painted Ruins, which takes a decisive turn away from their early ‘chamber pop’ sound.

It was a pleasure watching such talented musicians play – especially Chris Taylor, the bassist who also picked up a saxophone, flute, and clarinet over the course of the show. Lead vocalist Ed Droste’s voice is gorgeous live; I just wish it had taken more precedence in the sound mixing. The guitars and drums often won out over the three vocalists’ microphones, which for this band, whose greatest material includes delicate harmonies, is a real shame.

Overall, I liked their new guitar-heavy sound. Paired with the LED lighting strips on the floor that lit up when their wall of sound was at its heaviest, it looks like this indie band is prepping itself for stadium-style shows. Fortunately for us, there was also more than enough room in Grizzly Bear’s repertoire for an intimate show at the Opera House that nicely captured their elegant professionalism.

Barber Shop Chronicles Written by Inua Ellams Directed by Bijan Sheibani TSB Bank Arena, 27th Feb Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Inua Ellams’ Barber Shop Chronicles offers audiences an intimate glimpse into conversations held between barbers and their clients in six barber shops across Africa and London. We are taken to Accra in Ghana, Lagos in Nigeria, Johannesburg in South Africa, Harare in Zimbabwe, and Kampala in Uganda, with each stop bookended by a return visit to one barber shop in the south of London.

It is in this barber shop that we meet Samuel (Bayo Gbadamosi) and his uncle Emmanuel (Cyril Nri). Samuel believes that Emmanuel has played a crooked hand in the wrongful imprisonment of his father. The tension between these characters serves as the eye of the Barber Shop Chronicles storm. Their conversations centre on the dynamics of father-son and youth-elder relationships – themes that are explored in most scenes and are crucial to the progression of the piece.

Though we meet a multitude of seemingly-unrelated characters, each vignette is cleverly entwined with the next. We hear wide-ranging perspectives on current and past political climates, anecdotes and jokes told throughout the world, explorations of race and identity by young and old, and – crucially – various definitions of what it means to be not just a strong man, but a "strong black man". It’s moving and eye-opening to behold.

Underneath Ellams’ poetic prose and powerful observations, Barber Shop Chronicles is upbeat and uplifting.

Michael Henry’s music and Gareth Fry’s sound design create an atmosphere of joy and community, calling the actors together to perform as one during transitions. Hip-hop chart-toppers and traditional African song intermingle, further serving the work while totally tantalising the earbuds of the audience. Jack Knowles’ lighting design clearly indicates place, and a considered approach to Rae Smith’s functional yet arresting aesthetic design.

The actors, most of whom perform multiple roles, are energetic, talented, and dedicated. Their commitment to the work and respect for it is obvious and touching.

This is, in my books, a five-star work.

Bless the Child Written by Hone Kouka Directed by Mīria George Hannah Playhouse Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

In Bless the Child, two baby girls cry. And cry. And cry. Only one, baby Ara, is found dead. The distance between these two pēpis’ lives could cross oceans.

The play, written by renowned New Zealand playwright Hone Kouka, is a story of class, human kindness, prejudice, and perception. Masterfully performed by its cast, Bless the Child is hard, and sits heavy in the pit of your stomach. But it is also unflinching and brave; not since Once Were Warriors have I seen Māori stare down the spectre of domestic violence with such defiance.

The twin pillars of this production are Shardae (Carrie Green) and Khan (Regan Taylor). Shardae has been accused of her daughter’s death, while Khan, her cousin, is the whānau golden boy; after studying law at Columbia, he’s now an ambitious politician. In a move that he hopes will make an example of Māori “filth”, he promises to represent Shardae in court. Meanwhile, a group of kids drink beer and taunt who they believe to be Ara’s killer in a garage; Khan’s wife Hinemoa (Moana Ete) struggles to settle her pēpi; and the gods rumble under the earth.

Bless the Child’s staging is striking and spare, peppered with ambient hums and drones, and the sounds of a raging storm. For much of the show, Shardae performs within a raised box of a motel room. Lit from within, it cleverly evokes a television set.

Green as Shardae is a brilliant tangled knot of pain, anger, and confusion onstage. For me, she’s a scene-stealer as the voice we never hear in the media noise – the mother who just wants her child back. Green is ably matched by Taylor, who pours himself into an emotive, nuanced performance. Their scenes together are alive and breathing with resentment and ignorance; in one terrible moment, Khan screams at Shardae that he doesn’t want her consolations – “you’re not my kind!”

Bless the Child is more than gritty and difficult. For New Zealand in 2018, it’s essential.

Lady Bird (R13) 94 Mins ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

Lady Bird is not a film that rips up genres or reinvents the wheel. It’s a neat, 90-minute coming-of-age movie. But it is so finely-honed, so wonderfully-realised, that it feels wholly fresh and new and magnificent – just like the best parts of adolescence, I suppose.

Lady Bird is the directorial debut of indie darling Greta Gerwig. It follows the last two years of high school in the life of Christine – or Lady Bird (Saoirse Ronan), as she insists on being called. We hit every milestone in a teenager’s life along the way, from the conventional (dances, losing your virginity, choosing a university), to the lesser-seen onscreen: screaming matches with your mother, dumping your best friend for the cool kids, pretending not to be high on marijuana in your parents’ kitchen.

From the trailer, I expected to cry buckets, but Lady Bird surprised me by being hilarious. From the gentle ribbing of Lady Bird’s Catholic education, to her come-here-often attempts at flirting, the film elicited more than a few laughs from myself and other members of the audience. However, there are deep ripples in the film’s subtext about class and upward mobility. In one of the most moving scenes of the film, Lady Bird and her mother visit the open homes of houses they couldn’t dream of affording.

At the centre of the narrative is the loving, but fraught relationship between Lady Bird and her psychiatric nurse mother, Marion (Laurie Metcalf). No other scene I’ve seen in cinema captures the tensions between mothers and daughters better than when Lady Bird and Marion bicker while flicking through op-shop racks, but then instantly bond over finding the perfect dress.

As Lady Bird finds her feet in New York at her new university, we can feel the ground shift underneath her; her world is no longer just a bubble of school, friends, and boys. My favourite thing about Lady Bird is that it doesn’t take a blindly nostalgic view of adolescence. It’s a vibrant, vivid, challenging time – and it’s over now. Can’t we just let it go?

The Select (The Sun Also Rises) Created by Elevator Repair Service Directed by John Collins The Opera House, 25th February Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

The Select (The Sun Also Rises) is a stage adaptation of Ernest Hemingway’s classic 1926 novel The Sun Also Rises. Presented by acclaimed New York theatre ensemble Elevator Repair Service as part of the New Zealand Festival, it follows a group of American expatriates as they drink their way around Europe in an ultimately fruitless search for meaning and purpose in life.

Hemingway’s first novel serves to epitomise The Lost Generation – those who came of age during the First World War and struggled to settle after it. Its characters are based in Paris and drink heavily, namely at a café called The Select. The interior of the café serves as the set for the production and is brilliantly utilised – a chair might double as a taxi, a table as a bull or a bed, or a bar as a bus.

Transitions are seamless. Narrator Jake Barnes (Mike Iveson) delivers asides and continues conversations in one quick breath, while the action hops from one bar to the next, Paris to Spain in the blink of an eye. The absolute highlight of the production is the innovative and hilarious sound design (Matt Tierney and Ben Williams), which works in perfect harmony with Mark Barton’s upbeat yet affecting lighting design. There’s no question about it: Elevator Repair Service have staged the text superbly. I just wish they chose a different text.

Though Hemingway’s novel chiefly tackles disillusionment, unrequited love, alcohol abuse, and existentialism – all meaty topics worthy of exploration, I don’t think this stage adaptation brought anything new or challenging to the table. Three hours is a very long time to watch a number of wholly unlikeable, self-absorbed characters mope, get drunk, and do nothing. Though the script is lyrically beautiful, so of course is the novel. If I’m not allowed to read it at my own pace (i.e. not in one forced sitting), I want the staged version to offer vibrancy and dynamism – something I’m afraid this production quite lacked.

Soft’N’Hard Written by Jo Randerson and Thomas LaHood Directed by Isobel MacKinnon BATS Theatre, 13th Feb Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Soft’N’Hard uses clowning and comedy to explore gender stereotypes. Though not an autobiographical piece, it grew out of the tensions that its performers, Jo Randerson and Thomas LaHood, have experienced as a married couple. This Barbarian production was a sell-out success last year, and it’s not hard to see why.

Two obscure monsters take the stage. “Slurpy pink oyster thing” and “Wacky Waving Inflatable Arm Flailing Tube Man meets Baymax from Big Hero 6” are the best descriptions I can come up with, and one of them I stole half of from Family Guy. The costumes are funny and silly, the audience already in hysterics long before any faces appear.

Every intention is crystal clear: though we’re not offered (audible) dialogue until at least halfway through the show, we always know exactly what Randerson and LaHood are trying to communicate. It’s as much in the micro expressions as it is in the grandiose gestures. This is clowning at its finest.

The transition from hyperbolic clowning to naturalist acting is seamless and, although gradual, it’s almost imperceptible. Blink, and the monsters are humans having a conversation so ordinary, so natural, it could be happening in your kitchen. The key thing to note here is that you could be having the conversation in your kitchen – though it’s an ordinary one, it is by no means benign. What is spoken is often not only relatable, but incredibly poignant too.

My companion and I saw the set as the interior of a child’s mind. It’s bright yellow, and cartoon-like props emerge from behind the veil by a yellow-gloved, disembodied hand. The music is hilarious, kooky, and cleverly-curated, each song a perfect accompaniment to the action.

Soft’N’Hard struck me for its honesty and charm. Often I found myself mesmerised, as if the cheerful colours and exuberant actions had lulled me into a child-like trance. Though the dialogue is raw, its speakers brave and compelling, I found it warm and comforting. This play is incredibly special.

Summer Pops – Music from the Movies Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Hamish McKeich Michael Fowler Centre, 9th Feb Reviewed by Tamsin Evans

This was a popular programme and with Hamish McKeich capably filling the dual roles of conductor and MC, the crowd was informed as well entertained. The immediate recognition of the Rocky theme (Conti, 1976) by the 12-year-olds in the next row clearly signalled the power of music in film. Silent movies were accompanied by sound until the 1930s brought us ‘talkies’, and judging by the audience appreciation, the dominance of the soundtrack is still very strong today.

Music for the movies obviously calls for a comprehensive group of players, with a harp, tuba, cor anglais, contra bassoon, five percussionists, piano (plus keyboard), and electric bass all getting a chance to contribute more than their sometimes otherwise minimal parts. As you would expect, the brass and woodwind often stood out, bringing a suitably grandiose and triumphant note to the well-known themes.

From a programming point of view there was an interesting contrast to be found between the big, dramatic, modern box office hits, and the more classical, European influences heard in the equally recognisable Chariots of Fire (Vangelis, 1981); Casablanca (Steiner, 1942); and Blue Danube (J Strauss, Jr, from 2001: A Space Odyssey, 1968). These two styles were brought together in the theme from Schindler’s List (Williams, 1993), played beautifully by concertmaster Vesa-Matti Leppänen and Michael Austin, principal cor anglais.

It was a night of striking openings and majestic endings, particularly apparent in the John Williams themes from Jurassic Park (1993), E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial (1982), and Star Wars (1977). With 51 Oscar nominations, Williams was the rightful star on the night. Against other contemporary pieces, Back to the Future (Silvestri, 1985) and Spider-Man (Elfman, 2002), his music stood out for its solid orchestration and complete sound.

And how do two girls born in the 21st century know about Rocky? It must be the music.

50 Shades Freed (R16) 105 Mins ★ Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

50 Shades Freed is the third, and mercifully, the last entry in the 50 Shades canon. It was my first foray into this series that is equally detested by the BDSM community and adored by ladies the world over. I was expecting whips and chains; I got a sad, flaccid barely-romance.

The film opens with a montage of a wedding gown being buttoned up and rings being slipped onto fingers as Christian Grey (Jamie Dornan) and Anastasia Steele (Dakota Johnson) murmur their wedding vows to each other in voiceover. Finally! She’s got him. Literally wrapped up in each other, the two lovers’ marriage starts on the dreamiest of honeymoons, but it’s not long before Hyde – probably the least threatening, crappiest villain in existence – creeps back into town.

The production values on 50 Shades Freed are high, which is where it earns its one star. There’s nothing technically wrong with its editing or cinematography (although I did cringe at the gushy pop soundtrack). It’s everywhere else, namely the writing and acting, that is stale, boring, and at times ridiculous and offensive.

Christian is the worst manifestation of masculinity I can imagine; he is jealous, controlling, and frightening. The smallest thing can incur his rage, like when Ana goes out for a drink after work with a friend against his wishes. Despite knowing exactly where she was and who she was with, Christian later weaponises their sex life, and punishes Ana in the red room (their sex dungeon). Let’s get this clear: this is abusive behaviour. His positioning as a romantic hero is not only terrible, but terribly irresponsible storytelling.

I could go on. Sadly, I only have so many words, so I’ll leave you with this: don’t see this film. If you have a romantic partner, count the ways your relationship is special and don’t see this film. If you’re single, enjoy your freedom, toss off any societal expectations that you can’t be happy alone, and do not see this film. Please.

Summer Concert Presented by NZSO National Youth Orchestra Conducted by Guy Noble Michael Fowler Centre, 3rd Feb Reviewed by Tamsin Evans

If you have the talent and start young, you can be a very good musician before you are too much older. The youngest members of the NZSO National Youth Orchestra are only 15, while the oldest are the venerable age of 25. Fresh from a week of intensive coaching from NZSO players, the NYO put me in awe of their flair and ability. The performance was one to be very proud of and there seemed to be at least a few delighted family and friends in the audience.

Guy Noble worked with the NYO for a week, but the relationship between conductor and orchestra was as strong as if they had been together much longer. Starting with a classic classical, Beethoven’s Leonore Overture No.3, Op.72b, the young players set the scene with a bold ease that would be expected from professional, senior musicians. It’s no surprise to learn that about 50% of the NZSO are former members of the National Youth Orchestra.

The highlight of the show was the centrepiece, Edward Elgar’s Cello Concerto in E minor, Op.85, played with great maturity and insight by 18-year-old New Zealander Matthias Balzat. Without falling into the trap of replicating anyone else’s interpretation, he brought his own impression of the famous post-World War I concerto to the stage. His impressive technique was matched by the orchestra’s skilful playing. Their combined tone was highly responsive to the music and to each other, displaying the power of their collective musicianship.

In complete contrast, joined by his bass player friend Matthew Harris, Balzat’s encore was an unbelievably good rendition of something the jazz violinist Stephane Grappelli would have been very happy with indeed.

The finale, Dvořák’s Symphony No.8 in G major, Op.88, gave every section – strings, woodwind, brass and percussion – a chance to show us the promising young talent the NZSO is nurturing for the future.

Nunsense Written by Dan Goggin Directed by Lyndee-Jane Rutherford Running at Gryphon Theatre until 10th Feb Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Nunsense begins when the five sisters of Crofton Downs discover that their cook, Sister Julia, ‘Child of God’, has accidentally poisoned 52 of her fellow nuns with an extremely questionable soup. Having dug deep into their coffers, the surviving sisters have managed to bury 48 of the dead bodies, as well as purchase a Smart TV and a PlayStation. With the health inspector knocking and 4 dead nuns chilling out (sorry) in the freezer, our sisters must raise the funds needed to respectfully dispose of the last of the dead.

What better way to fundraise than put on a talent show?

And so, in a school hall currently decked out with Grease memorabilia (set design by Ben Emerson and Jeff Hewitt), our nuns put it all on the line in a singing, dancing, puppeteering extravaganza.

It’s a great premise best developed in the hands of a playful director, and that’s exactly what we have here. The little quirks of the show – the reverent reference to Berhampore, and the Kiwi-as sweet-as bro-as attitude of Sister Robert Anne (Rochelle Rose) for example – really sparkle.

The cast is outstanding. Though their execution of Rose’s clever choreography was not perfect, the actors clearly possess godsmacking talent.

Jane Keller (playing Reverend Mother) delivers a spirited performance and is outrageously funny when her character is confronted by the mortal sins of man. Bronwyn Turei (Sister Hubert) gives an animated yet focused performance, grounding the excitable ensemble around her. Her vocals are remarkable, as are Tania Parker’s, who plays the delightfully befuddled Sister Amnesia with adorable panache. Rebecca Tate (Sister Leo) plays a nun coming into her own with cheek and charm, while Rose brings mammoth energy to the table.

Mention must also be made to Michael Nicholas Williams, the exceptional musical director who drives the entire production with just a keyboard.

Nunsense is fun, frivolous, and funny – it’s enormously entertaining and a great escape from the daily grind.

I, Tonya (R16) 119 Mins ★ ★ ★ Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

As someone who was in nappies when figure skater Tonya Harding jumped her famous triple axel, I had no idea who she was before seeing I, Tonya. While fans of the figure skating champ will no doubt love this film, anyone will be able to appreciate this funny, surprisingly emotionally resonant work.

From her childhood ruled over by emotionally abusive mother (the vicious, excellent Alison Janney) to her exile from competitive skating in the mid-1990s, I, Tonya tells the turbulent, larger-than-life story of Tonya Harding (Margot Robbie). The focus of the film is ‘the incident’ – when Harding’s chief rival, Nancy Kerrigan (Caitlin Carver), was whacked in the knee prior to the 1994 Winter Olympics trials.

The narrative rips along apace, aided by an excellent Americana soundtrack. At times, the distinctly upbeat tone of I, Tonya contrasts rather strangely with the subject matter of the film, which includes poverty, social class, and domestic violence. However, I feel it captures the essence of Tonya’s spirit; she is depicted as a woman that would rather ‘skate over’ her hardships, and point to the magic and glamour of her fame/infamy.

It’s a been long time since I’ve seen a film that so unashamedly positions each of its characters as unreliable narrators. Much of the narrative is told by the characters themselves directly to the camera, documentary-style, while the action unfolds in retrospect. In a scene of particularly ambiguous truth, the I, Tonya cast often break the fourth wall, such as when Harding turns to the camera to say “I didn’t do this” before taking a crack at her husband Jeff (Sebastian Stan) with a hunting rifle. The audience desperately wants Harding to succeed – we’ve seen her pour herself into figure skating. But seeing her story clash with that of her husband and mother undermines her to the point of distrust.

I, Tonya, is not a story that uncovers the truth of ‘the incident’. Rather, it explores the confusion and lies that surround talents like Tonya Harding – and the frustrations of a life that just isn’t fair.

Joan Written by Tom Scott Directed by Tim Gordon Running at Circa Theatre until 17th Feb Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Joan is a play about Tom Scott’s mother.

The narrative is shared by mother-daughter duo Ginette McDonald and Kate McGill, who play Old Joan and Young Joan respectively. We follow Joan through childhood into her golden years – which Old Joan would attest are anything but. With Joan at our side, we traverse her upbringing in Southern Ireland, her challenging life as a mother of six in small-town New Zealand, and her final moments in a retirement home in Hawke’s Bay.

Ginette McDonald’s Old Joan is hilarious. In one breath, she captures the essence of a character so broken and yet so obstinately charming. Kate McGill embodies a young, beautiful woman full of hope and optimism. Although the two characters are almost opposites, Scott’s argument that they are one in the same person is articulate and affecting.

Joan is set on a thrust stage, presumably to foster intimacy. I can imagine that those seated in the middle block, or close to the front corners of the stage in the left or right blocks, would have absolutely felt this intimacy. Unfortunately, we felt quite isolated on the far edge at the back of the right block. Given the stage type (and the muffled nature of the Irish accent), I don’t think enough consideration was put into the blocking of Joan; we lost a lot of dialogue and saw a lot of backs. However, the set (Tolis Papazoglou) was lovely, comprising heavenly drapes of fabric on which shone historical projections designed by Charley Draper. These projections – coupled with Oliver Devlin’s gentle sound design and Marcus McShane’s sleek lighting design – lovingly led the audience where the narrative beckoned, working in harmony with the action at all times.

I remember leaving the theatre and being struck by a profound sense of my own mortality. I also remember hoping that my future children might love me as much as Tom Scott loves his mother. What a tender, intelligent work Joan is.

Messiah Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Brett Weymark Michael Fowler Centre, 9th Dec Reviewed by Tamsin Evans

It must be almost impossible not to enjoy Handel’s Messiah, especially on the grander scale of this year’s performance by the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra, the Orpheus Choir of Wellington, and soloists Celeste Lazarenko (Soprano), Deborah Humble (Mezzo Soprano), Robert Macfarlane (Tenor), and Jared Holt (Bass.)

Starting gently with Comfort ye my people, it was a little hard to determine the words of Macfarlane’s opening above the orchestra. However, conducted by Australian Brett Weymark, the relatively small chamber orchestra of 40 was dwarfed by the 130+ Orpheus Choir. The power of many voices lent a real strength to the choir’s first entry, And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed. While the first performance in 1742 boasted only 24 singers, the music responds gloriously to the massed voices of a large choir.

The chorus gave way to a fine entrance for Holt, whose diction was clear and voice was powerful. A good balance between Humble and the chorus was apparent in the familiar O thou that tellest good tidings to Zion. Lazarenko’s first entry came in with a strong, distinct image of shepherds in the fields under clear skies.

The structure of an oratorio (recitatives from the soloists interspersed with dominant choral refrains) and the nature of a concert involving a guest conductor, four soloists, a smaller orchestra and a very large choir, made for a performance that was a little patchy at the start, but which improved throughout and finished strongly.

The harpsichord and trumpets made the most of their parts and stood out for the quality of their playing. Orpheus Choir showed impressive flexibility in the second half, bringing an appropriately vengeful tone to He trusted in God and managing the tongue twisting Let us break their bonds asunder before letting themselves (and the audience) really enjoy the Hallelujah and other final choruses to bring the 2017 season to a close.

Cirkopolis Presented by Cirque Éloize Directed by Jeannot Painchaud and Dave St-Pierre St James Theatre, 1st Dec Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

I want to say first off that Cirkopolis is not your standard circus show. If you’re thinking of hyperactive clowns performing to upbeat music in a giant garish circus tent, you’re thinking of a different show. That being said, Cirque Éloize’s Cirkopolis does feature traditional circus elements, including trapeze, clowning, and juggling. With an industrial city as its backdrop, and grey as its main colour scheme, I don’t know how much entertainment it would provide for the kids. For the adults, there’s a lot to marvel at and dissect.

Cirkopolis is cleverly curated to allow for a range of different performers to showcase their skills while continuing to tell a cohesive story. Gradually, colours are incorporated into the bigger picture, but we start with deafening grey. Our first scene features office workers scurrying about their day as brilliant performer Ashley Carr’s pile of paperwork grows taller and taller, eventually resembling the towers illuminated on the video projections (designed by Alexis Laurence) behind him. At the end of the show after each performer has found their groove, the paperwork is joyfully disposed of, symbolising an escape from monotony and routine through art.

That’s exactly what this show provides. Cirkopolis picks the viewer up from Lambton Quay at 8:30am on a drizzly Monday morning (a busy spectacle it initially resembles), and transports them to Cuba Street on a sunny Sunday afternoon.

Standout performers for me were Rosita Hendry, whose Cyr Wheel routine was mesmerising and transcendent, and Alexie Maheu and Antonin Wicky, who climbed the Chinese Pole with exceptional skill and uplifting energy. As a collective, each of Cirkopolis’ 12 cast members brought their own brand of genius to the table (quite literally). I do wish that our dynamic Diabolo performer, Arata Urawa, had been programmed as the penultimate act. Trapeze artist Selene Ballesteros-Minguer was outstanding, but her routine did slow the pace down; we went from high-octane to serene and back again, which dulled the impact of the finale.

Murder on the Orient Express (M) 114 Mins ★ ★ ★ Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

Based on the classic novel by Agatha Christie, this new adaptation of Murder on the Orient Express shines bright with a star-studded cast. But the lacklustre direction by Kenneth Branagh runs any suspense the murder mystery plot holds right off the rails.

Branagh, who is well-known for his Shakespearean adaptations on film, keeps his adaptation extremely faithful to the book. He also plays the leading man, the Belgian sleuth Hercule Poirot – “the greatest detective in the world.” Called back from a holiday in Instabul, Poirot snatches a last-minute seat on the Orient Express, only for a passenger to get stabbed in a locked cabin as the carriage sleeps. The suspects are a crew of kooky characters, including Judi Dench as a grumpy Russian princess; a rich American widow (Michelle Pfeiffer); and a prissy Austrian scientist (Willem Dafoe). With a scattering of clues (no DNA forensics in the 1930s), Poirot jumps into the mystery.

The biggest change to the original is likely Branagh’s characterisation as Poirot. He transforms the delicate dandy of a man into a gruff, intimidating type; he even changes the original Poirot-moustache from thin and twirled to thick and grey. As a result, Poirot is not quite as fun as in the novels, or in the 1974 film adaptation. Branagh may do well to take a leaf out of his cast’s book, who take the broad sketches of a character and run with them. Dafoe, with his depiction of Gerhard Hardman, is a particular highlight; it's delightful to see his skill at work in a light-hearted role.

Despite the supporting cast’s best efforts, the narrative is slow and comes off undercooked. There are many shots of crystal-cut whiskey glasses, the snow outside the cabin, the ladies’ costumes – all of which are very lovely, but don’t serve to heighten the dynamics on the train. It is a struggle to believe the film is literally about life and death, when Murder on the Orient Express fails to move its audience at all.

Rite of Spring Presented by Orchestra Wellington Conducted by Marc Taddei Michael Fowler Centre, 2nd Dec Reviewed by Emily Sharp

As fans and followers of Orchestra Wellington are aware, the best is always saved until last. I think here, this is an understatement, as Rite of Spring was exceptional. True, it may seem I find Taddei can do no wrong, but I do believe I am not the only one enamoured with our delightful host – he does indeed know how to charm an audience. He tells us in fact, Orchestra Wellington is the most successful Orchestra in the world. I don’t find that difficult to believe.

Orchestra Wellington and Taddei pick their battles wisely to always concede a victory, and Beethoven’s Symphony No.3 (Eroica) was no different. This performance was superb. Following on from the battle metaphor, each family of instruments is a regiment and Taddei the general. Collectively, each skillset, morale, and passion for the cause is vital to the skirmish. That is what makes Orchestra Wellington so outstanding; they are such fine soldiers in the war of culture and art.

I first heard Rite of Spring, as I’m sure many of my generation did, in a dark scene of Disney’s Fantasia when I was very young. So interestingly enough, the score for me is more associated with flight, fight, and fear. Stravinsky himself admitted “there are simply no regions for soul-searching in The Rite of Spring”. The piece attacks the senses and you are forcibly thrust into the intensity of it all. What I find most interesting is that it incites panic; the deep, beta wave-like heartbeat of the percussion along with the disjointed screeching strings taps into your subconscious on a deeper level. I speculate that this attributed to the infamous riot the premiere caused in Paris 1913.

As the New Year comes, with it our next season promises “Great and Noble”. If you haven’t already, I suggest getting a hold of the booklet Orchestra Wellington released with this concert. I think you’ll be just as excited as I am…

Peter Pan the Pantomime Written by Pinky Agnew and Lorae Parry Directed by Susan Wilson Running at Circa Theatre until 23rd Dec Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Peter Pan the Pantomime is based on JM Barrie’s beloved classic. It follows more or less the same arc, with a few novel twists thrown in for good measure. The most striking spin is the localisation of the script – the Darling family live in the wealthy suburb of Days Bay; Neverland is set around Wellington’s windy waterfront, so named because the planes never land there; and our Dame, Katie Pie (Gavin Rutherford), hails from the dark depths of Aro Valley. The Dame of course is another innovation, as is the music. Look out for party bangers and 70’s hits cleverly re-contextualised and beautifully performed by our musical director Michael Nicholas Williams, as well as our stellar cast.

On that note, first mention must be made to Cary Stackhouse, who plays Peter Pan and reminds me of an infinitely more talented version of Zac Efron. Stackhouse is a picture-perfect Pan with a million-dollar smile and the charisma and voice to match.

Camilla Besley (playing Wendy) is a dazzling performer who should absolutely be on Broadway. Her ‘sons’, the Lost Boys (Ben Emerson and Manuel Solomon), bring huge personality to their ensemble, Solomon’s accidental bark and Emerson’s tearful whimper being highlights for me. Jeff Kingsford-Brown (playing Smee) is stunning vocally, as is Bronwyn Turei, who performs a number of roles with flair and ease.

Simon Leary’s grandiose Captain Hook has me in stitches from the get-go. In fact, I think this is my favourite of his performances – and that’s saying something! He handles a rather vocal audience member (deemed ‘shouty girl’ by Rutherford) especially well, as does Rutherford himself, whose performance is energetic and excellent.

The show is hilarious for adults, but I think some of the humour is not appropriate for children; because it’s marketed as a family affair, I’d suggest dialling down the sexual jokes. Otherwise, Peter Pan the Pantomime is fun, funny, and fabulous – a real summer treat.

Ancient Shrines and Half Truths Devised and created by Binge Culture Directed by Joel Baxendale BATS Theatre, 15th Nov Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Ancient Shrines and Half Truths is an immersive audio experience created by Joel Baxendale, Rachel Baker, Oliver Devlin, Ralph Upton, and Melanie Hamilton of Binge Culture. It is effectively an app-based show, where audience members are provided with a smart phone and headphones and sent off into the great outdoors of New Zealand: more specifically, Waitangi Park.

We begin at BATS, where we are greeted by Devlin and led to our starting point. Devlin’s confident delivery of instructions and directions makes me feel at ease, as does his hi-vis vest and giant lollipop sign. Standing in a circle on the grass with my fellow participants, I feel as if I am on a school trip. This feeling does not last long.

Headphones on and surrounded by the unexpected corporate fun runners of the evening (well-handled, Binge Culture), I set off to explore the park. The app (created by InDesign) shows me a series of icons depicting important ‘monuments’ I must visit. With Baker’s effortless, cynically charming narration as my guide, I perform a meditational chant at a parking metre, haggle with a tree, dip my toes in a street gutter, and more.

Performers are interspersed throughout the park and hilariously incorporated into the narrative. Stella Reid sizes me up on Lover’s Lane and then gives me ‘drugs’; Baxendale fishes at an intersection and later stares me down until I’m instructed to give him the finger; and Devlin finds me when I become hopelessly lost. On that note, I cannot read maps. It’s easy (for some, apparently) to get lost without that famed ‘little blue dot’ depicting your location on a map. But maybe that’s the point.

Ancient Shrines and Half Truths is an innovative, intelligent show that challenges common conceptions and provokes much-needed conversation around what it means to be a tourist. At the same time, it is wildly entertaining. For a truly unique theatrical experience, you must see this show.

Janine Jansen Plays Sibelius Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Edo de Waart Michael Fowler Centre, 10th Nov Reviewed by Jennie Jones and Tamsin Evans

This, almost the last concert of 2017, was one of the most pleasurable NZSO performances we have enjoyed. Janine Jansen Plays Sibelius was easy listening in the best possible way. The acoustics of the Michael Fowler Centre and the musicianship of Edo de Waart, the NZSO, and the incredibly talented Janine Jansen combined to make a very fine way to finish the week. This was a powerful and, at times, decidedly unromantic performance of ostensibly romantic music by both orchestra and soloist.

Beginning with Brahms’ Symphony No.3 in F major, the orchestra was assured in their playing from the outset. This was by turns a lush, melodic, dramatic, and delicate rendition. The woodwind had the early prominence with the stings in support, which was reversed later as the themes moved around the orchestra throughout the four movements, played beautifully every time.

The interlude between the two big pieces, Wager’s Siegfried Idyll, was a relatively quiet but nonetheless evocative presentation. The chamber orchestra was well-balanced, and again, the quality of the playing and the acoustics produced a multi-layered and harmonious sound.

Jansen’s opening notes of the Violin Concerto in D minor by Sibelius were brilliantly clear (those remarkable acoustics again) and had the audience enthralled from the moment the bow touched the string. Her performance was magnificent. If it is possible for a soloist to outplay an entire orchestra, then that was what we heard. Her incredible control, masterful technique, high energy, and sheer power dominated the sound and left the audience incredulous. Although hard to focus on anything other than Jansen’s playing, the timbre of the lower strings, especially the basses, formed a lovely and grounded sense of earth and place. The final movement, technically one of the most challenging pieces ever written for violin, was delivered with supreme confidence and flair. This was nothing less than brilliant.

Under Written by Cassandra Tse Directed by James Cain The Third Eye – Tuatara Temple of Taste, 2nd Nov Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

A man (Chris Green) is looking for his wife. As he searches the room and his memory, he recounts the story of their life together; from their first meeting to the moment he loses her and beyond.

This solo show is approximately an hour in length and takes place in an intimate venue that can hold up to 30 people. The space is perfect for the work – cosy but not claustrophobic – and allows us to feel as if we are truly a part of the story. Green completes this picture, making eye contact throughout the night with each of us in turn and drawing us into a life well-lived by open-handedly sharing Tse’s compelling, poetic, and evocative story.

Under is filled with minute details. While the plot continually drives forward, ever-pulsating with allusions to the bigger picture, we are allowed a glimpse into the small aspects of a man and woman’s life together. How she takes her toast in the morning. What colour her favourite mug is. Which plants she tried (and failed) to grow. People often say that it’s the little moments that stick with you, and I have never seen this sentiment echoed with such conviction, nor conveyed with such talent, in a theatrical work – or any work of art – before. Tears stream down my face by the end of the play, because I feel as if I know this man and his wife, and I am reminded powerfully of my own experiences of love and loss.

Tse’s script is beyond beautiful. It is intelligent, fierce, and compassionate. Green is a natural performer who clearly shares a strong connection with the work. His micro-expressions and gestures are a joy to watch. Cain’s direction demonstrates a great understanding of the script – without fail, each decision he has made complements its ebbs and flows, its highs and lows, and its power.

Petrouchka Presented by Orchestra Wellington Conducted by Marc Taddei Michael Fowler Centre, 4th of November Reviewed by Ruth Corkill

Orchestra Wellington’s penultimate concert of the season included an adorable treat when students from Arohanui Strings joined the professional musicians onstage. Arohanui Strings is a free music education and social development programme that works with over 300 children in the Hutt Valley each year. Their seven-year partnership with Orchestra Wellington is a credit to our most community-minded orchestra.

The tiniest violinists were displayed across the front of the stage, while the older students were interspersed with the professionals, for a series of short familiar tunes. They were joined by the young and exuberant Assistant Conductor Andrew Atkins. His lead, along with the guidance of their tutor Alison Elderidge and other professional musicians, made for a lovely onstage dynamic.

The senior students then participated in the premiere of Tabea Squire’s Colour Lines, a piece composed especially for Arohanui Strings and Orchestra Wellington. Squire frequently employed free time notation, imagining “a child's colouring-in book: the jagged scribbles made by someone very young”. While this choice enabled the young players to participate throughout, overall the composition lacked momentum. Something livelier may have made a better showcase.

Next, the orchestra was joined by rising star Suyeon Kang, the 2015 Michael Hill Violin Competition winner, to perform Nielsen’s Violin Concerto. The concerto was a wise choice for Kang, as the varied content gave her ample opportunity to display her great range and sensitivity. Kang’s deft performance with the energetic accompaniment of Orchestra Wellington made this concerto a delightful experience.

The concert closed with Stravinsky’s Petrouchka, in which the composer imagined “a puppet suddenly endowed with life, exasperating the patience of the orchestra with diabolical cascades of arpeggi.” Unfortunately, it seemed that Orchestra Wellington was not quite in control of this mischievous piece, although the brass section managed real heft and expression. Puppet master Marc Taddei was an infectiously enthusiastic host throughout the evening, and all said, it was an uplifting concert.

Mr Foote’s Other Leg Written by Ian Kelly Directed by Amy Whiterod Gryphon Theatre, 1st Nov Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Mr Foote’s Other Leg tells the true tale of Samuel Foote (Alan Carabott), an 18th century comedian who makes it big in London. Before his meteoric rise to fame, Sam and his amateur theatre troupe – Peg Woffington (Charlie Potter) and David Garrick (Luke Gumbley), aided by feisty stage manager Mrs Garner (Shannon Tubman) – seem to be going nowhere. That is, until Garrick secures a position at the Theatre Royal on Drury Lane. Just when the story gets predictable, Mr Foote loses a leg on Prince George’s (Josh Kingsford’s) horse.

Stagecraft have pulled out all the stops for this production. Performances are polished and charismatic, the set (Whiterod) is functional yet handsome, the costumes (Novena Bridge and Whiterod) effortlessly transport the audience to 18th century London, and the pace is driven and dynamic. It’s a long-haul production at three hours, but not once did my mind wander. I was captivated from the get-go, and throughout the evening experienced a rollercoaster of emotions – from feeling highly amused by Kingsford’s pompous Prince and Potter’s excellent comedic timing; to moved by Carabott’s beautifully-portrayed plight; to devastated by Phillip Mtambo Mugnoni’s (playing Frank Barber, Foote’s assistant) heart-wrenching performance.

Mention must also be made to the delightfully poncey Lisa Aaltonen (Miss Chudleigh), who speaks no words but says a thousand; Gumbley, who you’ll just love to hate; and Tubman for her intelligent and sharp-witted performance.

At first, I found the sound design (Simon Boyes) jarring. We’re talking period costumes and dialogue here with contemporary, often grungy music during transitions. However, the more the play progressed, the more I warmed to the song choices. Foote often comments that he hates Handel, who writes the sort of classical music you’d expect in a show like this. The decision to play music from our time then feels quite fitting, and suits the clever transitions perfectly.

Stagecraft’s Mr Foote’s Other Leg is nothing short of exceptional.

Rachmaninov with Joyce Yang Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Edo De Waart Michael Fowler Centre, 27th Oct Reviewed by Susan Barker

This performance from the NZSO, as the title suggests, was a programme solely devoted to Rachmaninov. The concert opened with Vocalise, which was originally composed in 1912 as part of a set of 14 songs set to the poetry of Pushkin, Polonsky and Shaginyan – it was the only piece composed that did not have words. Vocalise is quite short at only 6 minutes long, but was beautifully executed and very well received. It also set the stage for the highly anticipated performance of piano superstar, Joyce Yang.

Yang, who is without a doubt superbly talented, faced Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto No. 3 in D minor – widely regarded as one of the most technically difficult solo piano pieces ever written, although you would not have guessed this while listening to Yang’s performance. She delivered on all accounts, and brought to the work delicacy and poetry. Her emotional performance resonated deeply with the audience. The crowd was utterly captivated from beginning to end, and Yang was given tremendous applause with many members of the audience standing at the conclusion of her performance. This part of the programme, alone, made the whole concert worthwhile. It was an honour seeing someone of her calibre play a piece as challenging as this one. If you ever have the opportunity to see Yang perform, do not miss it; you will be further enriched witnessing a performer with this level of talent.

The programme concluded with Rachmaninov’s Symphonic Dances, which were written in 1940, three years before his death. One must factor in that Yang’s performance was a tough act to follow; however, the dances, while haunting and appropriately nostalgic, seemed to lack the power, torment, and abandon that is meant to infuse these compositions. They are considered the composer’s most negative and bitter pieces, but it seemed the playing was a bit too rigid to reflect a man that was close to the end.

The Lego Ninjago Movie (PG) 131 Mins ★ ★ ★ Reviewed by Susan Barker

The Lego Ninjago Movie is the third instalment of the Lego movie franchise and was much-anticipated by the members of my household who are under the age of 12. The movie follows Lloyd, aka the Green Ninja, and his friends as they battle to save Ninjago City. Led by Master Wu, they must defeat the evil Garmadon, who also happens to be Lloyd’s estranged father. 

The movie has enough humour catered towards adults and children that it is amusing throughout for all. Garmadon provides much of the comedy in the film, for example using sharks as weapons (often to a fault) and referring to Lloyd as ‘L-loyd’, embracing the two l’s.

In addition, the ultimate villain of the movie is – most cleverly – a real-life, giant cat brought on-screen by the use of the “ultimate secret weapon” (a laser pointer), which anyone who has tried to build anything out of Lego around a cat can relate to.

One thing I will point out about the storyline that parents should be aware of is that it discusses parents breaking up, and Garmadon, at least at the beginning, is a terrible father. This may not seem like a major thing for most families, but if you are divorced or separated it may lead to some interesting questions during and after the film. I can also imagine it would be tough for those children who do not have a father in the picture, although it is clearly not Lego’s intention to elicit charged emotions.

Ultimately, the underlying messages of the movie are positive ones: empowerment and acceptance. However, it doesn’t deliver a tight storyline like The Lego Movie or The Lego Batman Movie. In fact, it seems Lego is on a bit of a downward slope as far as content is concerned. If you take it out of the context of the franchise it is an adequately entertaining children’s film, but do not expect it to live up to Lego’s previous offerings.

The Changeover (M) 92 Mins ★ ★ ★ ½ Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

Based on the classic young adult novel of the same name by the beloved Margaret Mahy, The Changeover will thrill audiences with its foray into the supernatural thriller and fantasy genres in a New Zealand setting.

The film stars newcomer Erana James as Laura, who has to look after her younger brother Jacko (Benji Purchase) in the school holidays while their single mum (Melanie Lynskey) is at work. Laura approaches her caregiving with aplomb, but one day loses track of Jacko somewhere in the Christchurch suburbs. She finds him in an eerie shop full of strange toys, but before she can hustle Jacko out, the shop-owner Carmody Braque (Timothy Spall) gives him a strange stamp on his hand. Consequently, Jacko falls ill, and Laura must return to that mysterious shop to find a cure.

James as Laura is an absolute treat; I hope the young actress returns to our screens again and again. Her natural, funny depiction of Laura as a brave heroine is essential to the film’s appeal as a coming-of-age tale – we root for her even as the script loses its spark in the second act. James is in expert company; the film is co-directed by theatrical living legend Miranda Harcourt, and she co-stars alongside household names Lynskey and Lucy Lawless.

Setting the film in post-quake Christchurch was also a stroke of genius. The city becomes its own character in The Changeover. It’s eerie, quiet, and ominous; it captures the betrayal and uncertainty that the citizens of Christchurch must have felt in the first devastating days after the quake, and turns it into a backdrop for a teenager’s tenuous transition into adulthood.

Unfortunately, The Changeover loses my interest in its second half, when it veers into over familiar – but still enjoyable – young adult territory. I would still, however, recommend this to any young woman in my life. As a rule, New Zealand coming-of-age tales are dark (see: Lynskey’s claim to fame in Heavenly Creatures), but The Changeover emerges from its darkness with hope in its heart.

Magicians Created by Nopera Whitley Directed by Nina Nawalowalo The Opera House, 21st Sep Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Magicians is a celebration of the art of magic featuring five of the world’s foremost magicians. This carefully curated selection sees a mentalist (Colin Cloud), a pick-pocket artist (Hector Mancha), an art analyst (Rob Zabrecky), a card-eater (Shin Lim), and a variety act (Charlie Frye & Co) take the stage, though each boundary-breaking artist cannot be defined by one title. Every single act sails straight past traditional and lands in an otherworldly realm; a land of the mind-boggling, the unbelievable, and the extreme.

Magicians begins with our host, Colin Cloud, who deduces startlingly accurate facts from his audience. How did he know Eva’s name, or John’s birthday? How did he fathom the serial number of a randomly-selected $5 note? Colin Cloud is a consummate, mesmerising, and intelligent performer. His integration of humour and mentalism is particularly delightful; I was lucky enough to meet him after the show, and promptly asked him what my name is. His response? “Have you forgotten?”

Our next act is the dynamic and dazzling Charlie Frye & Co, who prove a hit with the kids. Presenting a seamless blend of comedy, clowning, and juggling, these performers are clearly at the top of the circus game. They are also the final act, ending the night on a high and a bang.

In the middle of the show we have Lim, Zabrecky, and Mancha, each outstanding magicians in their own right. I audibly scream during Lim’s flawless, awe-inspiring performance and am then rendered speechless. Zabrecky is kooky and deviant; I would not like to run into him in a dark alley (or even a well-lit alley for that matter), but I could certainly go for a show dedicated to his clever magic. Mancha is exceptional; I feel sorry for his audience ‘volunteer’, who loses three phones and a belt in under 10 minutes.

I leave the extraordinary Magicians with tingles shooting down my spine and one word echoing in my mind: “How?”

The Father Written by Florian Zeller Directed by Ross Jolly Running at Circa Theatre until 11th Nov Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Warning: this review contains spoilers.

The Father centres on André (Jeffrey Thomas) a father who is suffering from dementia. His daughter Anne (Danielle Mason) is struggling to navigate her life as a carer, a partner, a sister, and an individual. Other characters – nurses and Anne’s partner Pierre (Gavin Rutherford) – weave in and out of the story, though it is never quite clear how they fit into André’s world. That, I believe, is the point.

Thomas’ portrayal of André is as charming as his character – this was a genuine and exceptional performance that left my heart swollen and in tatters. Mason’s gifted performance added to the devastation, her tolerance of her father’s constant blows at once comforting and distressing.

The Father hit home for me when Bronwyn Turei emerged as Anne. Thomas’ confusion here was palpable and devastating, because it was understood and felt by the audience in turn. The subtly-changing, brilliant set (John Hodgkins) also served this purpose, while the melancholic and jarring sound design (Ross Jolly and Callum Scott) audibly traced the deterioration of The Father’s titular character.

After this performance, my friend and I felt frustrated by the questions The Father left unanswered. Were self-serving lovers ‘Man’ (Simon Leary) and ‘Woman’ (Turei) nurses the whole time? Was André ever in his flat, or did he reside in a rest home for the duration of the play? Was Pierre a horrible man, or is that how André perceived him? Did nurse Laura (Harriet Prebble) oscillate between kindly and frustrated because she felt André was a burden, or is that how André felt about himself? While pondering these questions I truly understood the power of The Father and the talent of the cast and crew who brought it here. The frustration we felt, temporarily, is permanent for those living with dementia. We’ll soon forget the specific questions, but those with dementia do not have that privilege.

Travels in Italy Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by James Judd Michael Fowler Centre, 6th Oct Reviewed by Ruth Corkill

The NZSO’s latest concert was an eclectic selection of works connected to Italy. The performance opened with Berlioz’ Harold in Italy, an unusual ‘not quite concerto’ for the viola inspired by the composer’s travels in the Abruzzi region. Over four movements the solo viola and orchestra develop independently; Berlioz conceived of the viola as a ‘melancholy dreamer’ moving through landscapes evoked by the orchestra. This demands a convincing and emotive soloist, and Antoine Tamestit on his 1672 Stradivarius was more than up to the task. He gave a generous performance which confirmed his reputation for luscious sound and technical brilliance, while the full-bodied accompaniment of the NZSO provided a fitting setting.

This was followed by Elgar’s In the South (Alassio), a piece also inspired by an Italian holiday. It features a homage to Berloiz’s Harold, a gorgeous moment in which the orchestra fades away to leave a simple folk song on solo viola. The composition is a dynamic juxtaposition of the violence and grandeur of Ancient Rome, with the peaceful pastoral scenes Elgar encountered when he visited Andorra in 1903. James Judd drew warm, velvety harmonies from the NZSO, and while the moments of triumph were not completely convincing, the choice of composition allowed each section of the orchestra to shine in turn.

After the pastoral wholesomeness evoked in the first two selections, Tchaikovsky’s Francesca da Rimini felt like a departure from theme. This impassioned retelling of one of the most heart-wrenching passages in Dante’s Inferno has nothing to do with charming scenery, but the same depth of sound demonstrated earlier was at play in the tortuous, wretched passion of Francesca’s story. The romantic passages were handled with tremendous lyricism, while the ferocious coda was dauntless. Although an odd choice to end the evening, this final piece nevertheless served as a sharp reminder of the NZSO’s incredible emotional range.

Blade Runner 2049 (R13) 163 Mins ★ ★ ★ ★ Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

If the original Blade Runner (1982) gave us one of the most brilliant original narratives in science fiction, then Blade Runner 2049 fleshes out its universe and gives it a real, beating, human heart. Science fiction aficionados cannot afford to miss this (perhaps unexpectedly) brilliant sequel to the classic film.

The film opens with Officer K (Ryan Gosling), a police officer and ‘blade runner’, in the midst of an execution. The blade runners of 2049 are still picking off the most dangerous of a group of enslaved human clones (replicants) that turned mutinous 30 years earlier. When K finds the remains of a replicant and her stillborn child on his target’s land, he is urged to keep quiet by his commanding officer Lieutenant Joshi (Robyn Wright). The clones are not meant to be able to procreate – or even fall in love. Unfortunately, replicant manufacturer Niander Wallace (Jared Leto) desperately wants his new line of enslaved replicants to reproduce, and so begins a hunt that leads the film to our original blade runner, Rick Deckard (Harrison Ford).

While the plot sounds dense, director Denis Villeneuve takes his time in revealing each turn in the narrative. For good reason – his cinematography, set, and sound design are rich and gorgeous, and work together to make the bustling city of Blade Runner grotesque and terrifying. The ambient drones that accompany the city scenes are uniquely hair-raising, and it’s worth seeing this film in the cinema just to feel them rumble through you.

Harrison Ford’s work as Deckard is wonderful. He’s been in a spate of films that seem to have pulled him out of a comfy retirement of late, but Blade Runner 2049 doesn’t just wheel him out in front of the camera for the nostalgic warm fuzzies; Deckard has unfinished business to settle. Gosling also puts in a solid performance. His unshakable exterior has echoes of Ford’s in the original Blade Runner, but his occasional bursts of emotion lend his character a human vulnerability we never saw in Deckard.

Stones in His Pockets Written by Marie Jones Directed by Tanya Piejus Presented by Backyard Theatre Gryphon Theatre, 4th Oct Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Stones in His Pockets follows the residents of County Kerry, Ireland as their small town is overrun by Hollywood hotshots. Charlie Conlon (Alexander Sparrow), Jake Quinn (Patrick McTague), and a host of other townspeople are employed as extras on the film The Quiet Valley, which stars American sweetheart Caroline Giovanni (Sparrow). While Charlie tries to peddle his script to the bigwig producers in town, Jake catches Caroline’s eye – and ear – for his lyrical Irish accent and totally original poetry.

In production, it’s clear that Sparrow, McTague, and Piejus have worked incredibly hard to bring Stones in His Pockets to the stage. It’s certainly no mean feat: two actors must play 15 characters of different genders, ages, and origins. I’d imagine the greatest challenge in realising the script would be ensuring your audience can follow the action at all times. Achieved! Our actors give masterful performances in this respect, their transitions speedy and seamless.

While I never lost my place, it took me a long time to process that Sparrow was speaking in a half-American, half-Irish lilt deliberately. I have since learned that this accent originates from Ballycastle, which is in the far north of Ireland. As a master of accents, Sparrow totally pulls this off, but my confusion does stunt my immersion into the world of the play.

I would have liked for this world to be more fleshed out, and I’m not speaking here of the minimalist, superbly-utilised black box set. Our surrounding characters lack depth, perhaps because they are portrayed as stereotypes. There’s a stooped old man on a walking stick, a stoic father, a catty assistant, a chubby security guard, an emotional woman… and so on and so forth. Sparrow and McTague’s performances here are deliciously comedic (Sparrow’s Caroline being a highlight for me), and banal characters may well be the point of the play, but I still felt as if I wasn’t permitted a true glimpse into a Hollywood-infested County Kerry.

Pianomania with Freddy Kempf Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Michael Fowler Centre, 23rd Sep Reviewed by Tamsin Evans

Freddy Kempf led the NZSO and played us through 300 years of the history of the piano, starting with a lively performance of Handel’s Concerto for Keyboard, op.4 No.1 in G minor. The balance between piano and chamber orchestra and Kempf’s tone proved the piano as a stringed instrument and the music as having been written for the earliest days of the piano.

Each piece in the programme was introduced by a different section leader of the NZSO. This was a nice touch which, combined with Kempf’s direction from the keyboard, brought an air of informality and intimacy to the almost full house. Handel was followed by one of Mozart’s best-known works, Piano Concerto No.21 in C major, 2nd movement. The muted strings set the scene for a sublime performance by Kempf, light and airy and not at all sentimental.

Chopin’s Andante spianato et Grande polonaise brillante was the perfect showcase for Kempf’s absolute mastery of his instrument. This was the most technically demanding music played superbly.

The fanfare opening the third movement of Mendelssohn’s Piano Concerto No.1 in G minor was closely followed by the piano in a joyous and spirited performance. No piano history would be complete without one of Rachmaninov’s most popular works, Piano Concerto No.2 in C minor, 2nd movement. Kempf played a lovely accompaniment to separate flute, clarinet, and string passages with great romantic expression but not a trace of schmaltz.

In a nice segue, Rachmaninov was in the audience for the 1924 premiere of the final piece, Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue. The NZSO made up a hybrid jazz band/orchestra, complete with banjo, and capped off this programme of favourites with fifteen minutes of fun.

What could easily have been an evening of popular clichés (and too frequent checks on election results) was lifted to a much higher level thanks to the NZSO and the absolutely brilliant Freddy Kempf.

Imani Winds Presented by Chamber Music New Zealand Michael Fowler Centre, 26th Sep Reviewed by Emily Sharp

Concluding Chamber Music’s magnificent 2017 season we were treated to a fresh, wild concert that left us feeling caught between being full yet hungry for more. The concert featured a perfect juxtaposition of tradition and contemporary, which very cleverly rounded off the season itself.

Personally, I prefer traditional over contemporary music, but Chamber Music New Zealand has whet my appetite for the latter throughout the year. I thoroughly enjoyed Imani Winds and – excuse the pun – was blown away by how much so. It’s such a sweet pleasure, being surprised by something you were unsure about.

Before I talk about any of the other pieces, I really must rave about Natalie Hunt’s Snapshots. The concert saw the premiere of this CMNZ commissioned piece. We were given a short introduction and learned that the piece was inspired by Hunt’s desire to capture and project the different noises she heard while travelling in Africa. The most interesting part of this journey was the progression from the native and lonely sounds of the desert to the more jazzy dance type representations of the rich live culture she experienced there. I don’t think I need to travel to Africa now, as Hunt and Imani Winds together projected a vision that won’t be matched.

What I particularly enjoyed about the programme was the involvement Imani Winds had in composing, selecting, and arranging the pieces. We began with Valerie Coleman’s own Red Sand and Mississippi Delta, which were punchy, succinct, and took us on our own journey to the south. A stand out for me was the reinterpretation and arrangement of Astor’s Contrabajissimo. Blake said it best – “To see a world in a grain of sand, and a heaven in a wild flower…” To hear an orchestra in an ensemble, and a string quartet in a wind instrument…

The encore was just what we needed, the true epitome of jazz, and nicely tied in with Coleman’s earlier pieces. This concluded the concert perfectly, though I think if the audience had any say, Imani Winds would have been playing all night.

Nell Gwynn Written by Jessica Swale Directed by Ewen Coleman Gryphon Theatre, 20th Sep Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Nell Gwynn tells the Cinderella story of folk heroine Eleanor “Nell” Gwyn (Ange Bickford), one of the first female actresses and a mistress of King Charles II of England (Richard Corney).

While Nell is hawking oranges at the theatre, she heckles prologist Ned Spiggett (Richard Nicholls) and catches the eye (and ear) of actor Charles Hart (John Pheloung), who promptly takes her under his wing. It’s some weeks later when Nell is on stage that she meets the King, and after a round or two of cheeky live banter, he makes her an offer she can’t refuse. Well, once he’s agreed to her terms, that is. A prostitute with all the pluck of her drunkard mother (Nicola Tod), Nell knows how to negotiate.

This Wellington Repertory Theatre production is exquisitely set (courtesy of Coleman), with plush velvet drapery creating an illusion of wealth whilst also proving highly functional: we move from theatre to palace with ease. The pace is lively, the performances polished, and the energy electric.

In performance, Bickford matches (if not exceeds) the wit, tenacity, intelligence, and magnetism of her character. Other standouts include Catherine McMechan (playing Queen Catherine), whose fluent Portuguese is gobsmacking; Matthew Darragh (playwright John Dryden), whose modestly portrayed arrogance is delightfully paradoxical; and the hilarious Allan Burne (actor Edward Kynaston), whose extravagant ego and delicious performance stole the show.

Our love interests give polar opposite performances: Pheloung radiates charm and chivalry (until later when his true colours shine), while Corney is charismatically chauvinistic. Due to Corney’s – er, ‘hands-on’ approach (read: unsolicited groping), I find Nell’s love for him hard to swallow.

While the acting in this production is sublime, I would urge the team to spend more time on the musical numbers. This may have been a case of (understandable!) nerves, but I did spot a few significant lyrical and choreographical fumbles. Once these have been ironed out, Nell Gwynn will reign supreme.

Mother! (R18) 121 Mins 3 Stars Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

It’s been a long time since I’ve come out of a film at the cinema feeling like I need a cup of tea and a good lie down. Mother!, directed by Darren Aronofsky, is a cinephile’s fantastical nightmare. Quite frankly, its mashed-up allegories, references, and homages were a mess, but there were moments of beauty in the chaos.

We meet the central couple (never named, but played by Javier Bardem and Jennifer Lawrence) in the quiet of their beautiful country home. Our wife, always sedately dressed in flowing linen and long cardigans, has renovated the home from the ground up after it was devastated by a fire in her husband’s childhood. The husband is a renowned poet stuck in a creative block. When a doctor lost in the countryside (Ed Harris) knocks on their door, the husband’s creative juices start to flow, while the doctor’s wife (Michelle Pfeiffer) irritates the wife with her rudeness and drunken dirty talk. When the doctor’s sons arrive at the house, their violent outbursts spark a deranged flame. Mother! then descends into a surreal hell, where any pretences of civilisation are stripped away.

Jennifer Lawrence shines in the piece, despite her character acting as a passive cipher for womanly goodness and love. Her annoyance, then horror, at the destruction of her gorgeous house will be horribly familiar to any homemaker.

The second, hellish act of the film contained undoubtedly the most graphic moments I’ll see this year. Mother!’s destruction of the female and infant form is designed to recall biblical imagery and to meditate on the grotesqueries of human nature. Its layers of meaning will no doubt be interesting to pick apart for the film buff, but in an era when everything’s ‘been done’, I’m not so sure that maimed bodies are inherently artistically interesting. Jennifer Lawrence’s body should not be a ragdoll that Aronofsky gets to tear apart, and then discard, just to make a muddled, shocking statement about human nature.

A Doris Day Special Written by Ali Harper Directed by Stephanie McKellar-Smith Running at Circa Theatre until 14th Oct Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

I first saw Ali Harper live last year in her outstanding season of Legendary Divas at Circa Theatre. I was taken from the get-go, mesmerised by her powerhouse vocals, dazzling smile, and captivating stage presence. In A Doris Day Special, Ali is again a force to be reckoned with, and I find my grin uncontainable from beginning to end.

A Doris Day Special tells us the story of the legendary Doris Day by way of a Television Special. Ali intersperses Doris’ hits and lesser-known tracks with charming, informative dialogue and even commercials featuring dog treats and Vaseline. It’s on a bright and brilliant stage (set design by Brendan Albrey and Richard Van den Berg) where sunshine yellow is the main hue that we learn all about America’s proverbial girl next door. However, the show teaches us that Doris is much more than this – she has had a rollercoaster of a life, yet responds always with grace, warmth, immeasurable talent, and profound optimism. In my experience, these characteristics are the epitome of Ali Harper.

The show is wonderfully presented, the structure engaging and the costumes spectacular. In terms of staging, when Ali performs directly to the cameras placed stage left and right, we lose the intimacy of live performance as she is no longer facing us. This could be remedied by a live feed of her performance projected onto the screen placed centre stage, or perhaps by turning the cameras diagonally so Ali would still be facing one half of the audience when performing for each camera respectively.

A Doris Day Special will appeal the most to fans of Doris Day, and in them, has the capacity to evoke the greatest nostalgia. This was made evident by a lovely elderly man sitting in front of me, who “whooped” at the top of his lungs at the end of every song. For those who don’t know Doris Day well, A Doris Day Special is educational and still delightful to behold.

Public Service Announcements: Stranger Politics Written by Thom Adams and James Nokise Directed by Isobel MacKinnon BATS Theatre, 12th Sep Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

This was my first time attending Public Service Announcements, Wellington’s longest running recurring political satire show.

Stranger Politics is a satire of New Zealand’s politicians, parties, and policies by The No Fefe Collective. From Seymour to Shaw, National to Labour, Gareth Morgan’s National Cat Management Policy to Helen Clark’s Foreshore and Seabed, we’re treated to a parody of notable figures who have been in, are hoping to get into, or are currently in parliament today.

Because Stranger Politics relies on a deep level of prior knowledge and understanding from its audience and I am not particularly politically-minded, I only understood about a third of the references within the show. However, I was so amused and interested by what I saw that I felt compelled to engage in mammoth discussion afterwards. I can now safely say that after these conversations and as a direct result of this show, I know a bucket load more about the upcoming election than I did yesterday.

I’m totally inclined to agree with co-writer Thom Adams when he argues in the programme that the equal nature of the show doesn’t risk turning people off politics. That is in fact what I enjoyed the most about Stranger Politics: it took the piss out of everyone. By not taking sides, you’re allowing your audience to make their own judgements, and that’s what sets you apart as a comedy about politics.

Stranger Politics features wonderful talent, from Bronwyn Turei’s sloth-like Shane Jones to Hayden Frost’s drug-fuelled and desperate David Seymour; Patrick Davies’ delightfully dull Bill English to Michael Trigg’s sneeringly sexist, uber-nasal Gareth Morgan; Hannah Clarke’s malicious and maniacal Annette King to Allan Henry, whose Winston Peters could outrun Littlefinger in an electoral race any day. The writing is sharp and outrageous and the cast is the same. Thanks to this firecracker of a satire for a flaming good time.

P.S. have you ever heard Turei sing? Amazing!

Anahera Written by Emma Kinane Directed by Katie Wolfe Running at Circa Theatre until 7th Oct Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Anahera follows Peter (Neill Rea) and Liz (Jacqueline Nairn), a seemingly perfect, well-off couple with two polite and respectful children: Harry (Simon Leary) and Imogen (Susie Berry). When 11-year-old Harry goes missing, social worker Anahera (Neenah Dekkers-Reihana) is called to the family home to investigate.

Kinane’s script is eloquent and refined, her characters deep, complex, and – I’d imagine – immensely challenging to have both conceived and realised. These are not characters we can easily fall in love with – each one is deeply flawed, and in short, deeply human. The script wrestles with questions many of us are not brave enough to ask, and indeed, many of us would rather not think about. But without once preaching, it forces us to examine ourselves and our society with a battery-powered, 5.5” XL magnifying glass with built-in LED lights, and in that, it’s a vital and provocative work capable of instigating change.

Nairn is a consummate performer, her stage presence formidable and magnetic. Rea brings a delicate, nuanced volatility to his role; his performance is at once grounded and atomic, a testament to the firm grasp he has of his character. Dekkers-Reihana is a constant, stoic force on which to fixate. Particular credit is due here for the most professional handling of a mishap I have ever seen on stage.

Our siblings add a new dimension to the work and wear their wounds in different ways. Leary is gruff and defiant, Berry consoling and undervalued. The structure in which their stories are revealed (aided by Lisa Maule’s outstanding lighting design) is the apex of a production that already stands tall as one of the best productions of 2017 in my book.

Further fantastic elements have here combined to lend Anahera this crown: couple Mark McEntyre’s vibrantly monochrome set design with Andrew McMillan and Wolfe’s haunting sound design and Tania Klouwens' sophisticated costuming and you have a work of art.

It (R16) 135 Mins ★ ★ ★ ½ Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

I’m sure many people who came of age in the 1990s can attribute a horror of clowns to the original iteration of It, which was released in 1990 to equal parts praise and terror. This year’s remake of It, directed by Argentinian Andrès Muschietti, remains faithful in tone to its source material, and perhaps loses its edge.

The plot has many deviations from the original, but the biggest is moving the story from the mid-1950s to the 1980s. It’s in a Michael Jackson-soaked summer that the ‘Losers Club’ meet to oust ‘It’ from their small town of Derry forever. The Losers consist of loner and rumoured “slut” Beverley (Sophia Lillis), new kid Ben (Jeremy Ray Taylor), homeschooled student Mike (Chosen Jacobs), and four nerdy friends, one of whom, Bill (Jaeden Lieberher), lost his younger brother Georgie to ‘It’ some months prior. Without giving too much away, the Losers Club runs up against more foes than just Pennywise the sewer-dwelling clown (Bill Skarsgård).

Much of It’s imagery is spectacularly nightmarish, particularly in a scene where thick, viscous blood bursts out of Beverley’s bathroom sink. Pennywise is also excellently realised, with Skarsgård’s jittery movements, breathy whisper, and layers of spiny teeth forming a truly horrific creature.

However, parts of the script are clunky, and the children’s performances are uneven. The exception is Finn Wolfhard, who runs away with every scene he’s in as the trash-talking Richie.

The love triangle between Ben, Billy, and Beverley often distracts from the main action. It is frustrating to see the character of Beverley passed around like a football, especially as the audience sees into her home life with her controlling and sexually abusive father.

While many of the scenes are deliciously macabre, It does not attempt to reach beyond the 1990 film’s tone and conventions. It is a decent horror film. But if you’re not going to push an adaptation of a successful novel in a new direction, it begs the question – why remake it at all?

Wonderland: An Original Musical Written by Kira Josephson and Bruno Marshall Shirley Directed by Bruno Marshall Shirley Running at Gryphon Theatre until 9th Sep Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Wonderland is an original musical based on (as you might have guessed) Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. The musical features a number of throwbacks to the original tale, but its driving force – the inclusion of Carroll’s poem Jabberwocky – is entirely new, and I must say, exceedingly innovative.

Stagecraft here presents a stage spectacular, abundant with colourful and magnificent costumes (Brendan Goudswaard) worn with pride by each member of this sizeable, committed, and talented cast. I can’t fathom the effort and craftsmanship required for each garment. The green sequined ‘two piece’ adorning the Tweedles (duo Catherine Gavigan-Binnie and Lauren Simpkins, whose harmonies are spectacular) is a particular highlight for me.

Cheshire Cat’s (Dom Taffs’) costume is particularly clever – black lights and white trims have combined to create this faceless character, though I shan’t spoil any surprises here. I do wonder if Taffs could have been placed offstage, as his presence distracts from the captivating stage picture created by our suited gentleman. Taffs voice is certainly powerful enough to carry.

The music is fantastic, as are the lyrics, though I felt that most songs lacked a strong melodic line. The actors held their own against the chaotic score, Taffs and Katja Romanski (who plays Alice) finding their place among the discordance exceptionally well. The lack of melody may well have been a deliberate choice – after all, we are in Wonderland, where absolutely nothing makes sense. However, none of the songs have stuck with me, which does reduce the impression the musical has left.

Romanski is a total delight, and Alice’s backstory quite intriguing. Our writers here have given this character depth and motivation, and Romanski rises to the challenge, presenting a multi-layered performance that demonstrates her stunning vocal range and tonality.

Congratulations to all cast and crew involved in this massive endeavour – you’ve created a wildly entertaining production that gifts rollicking good fun to all.

The Damnation of Faust Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Edo de Waart Michael Fowler Centre, 25th August Reviewed by Tamsin Evans

I was blown away by this performance – so much music! Described by the composer, Hector Berlioz, as a concert opera, I wasn’t sure what to expect from The Damnation of Faust. The stage was full. The sound was sublime. The experience was fabulous. The NZSO was joined by The Freemasons New Zealand Opera Chorus, some 70 strong, as well as soloists Alisa Kolosova (Marguerite), Andrew Staples (Faust), Eric Owens (Méphistophélès), and James Clayton (Brander.)

Long before film and television, The Damnation of Faust would have made the perfect soundtrack. Incredibly cinematic, the music revealed Faust’s life as we followed the translated surtitles, watched the chorus, listened to the narrative, engaged with the soloists, surveyed the orchestra, and reeled in the richness and complexity of the occasion. There was so much going on for the audience. It was a delightful challenge to keep track without missing a vital moment from another part of the performance.

The four acts told a fantastic series of tales. The duet between Marguerite and the lead viola (Julia Joyce) at the start of the third movement was just one example of the extraordinary variety of unusual musical effects deployed by Berlioz. Faust’s tenor voice was beautiful. With the enunciation of someone who’d learned French at an early age, Staples had us hooked from the first minute. His small but expressive gestures, widely ranging eye contact, and physical intensity combined with marvellous dynamic singing left us in no doubt who was the star of the show. Although Méphistophélès could have been more powerful and devilish, all the singers produced performances to be proud of. Brander’s rat was highly entertaining, Marguerite was a lovely addition to balance the male voices, and the Chorus worked hard and sang brilliantly in their central and supporting roles.

This was indeed all the power and passion of an opera in concert form.

The Pickle King Written by Justin Lewis and Jacob Rajan Directed by Justin Lewis Running at Hannah Playhouse until 9th Sep Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

The Pickle King follows ex-gypsy Sasha (Kalyani Nagarajan), a widow who believes she has been cursed. Everybody Sasha loves has passed away, but she does still have her outspoken aunty Ammachi (Vanessa Kumar), who runs the Empire Hotel on Oriental Bay. Love is blossoming in the dinghy hotel, much to Sasha’s horror. George Reaper (The Pickle King himself, played by Andrew Ford), and Jeena (Kumar) might have something to do with this, but I shan’t give any more away here.

The Pickle King features moving music (live pianist Ayrton Foote), striking stage pictures, and a very clever, multi-functional set by John Verryt, whose colourful costumes are at times delightfully farcical. The music is aurally captivating, creating a world one can get lost in with ease. Foote’s two short singing forays did momentarily lift me out of this world. I found the lyrics distracting and unnecessary in that they did not much contribute to the story; up until then, my imagination had been allowed to contribute to the offstage narrative.

The cast is beyond outstanding. Kumar’s performances as the (mostly) softly-spoken, sweet Jeena and the outrageous, raucous Ammachi prove the whopping capacity of her range and talent. Nagarajan is a total powerhouse, transfixing us all with the depth of emotion she brings to her role. Ford is aptly rambunctious and repugnant as The Pickle King. In addition to their leading roles, each actor also rises to the challenge of full and half mask work with flair and gusto. Otherworldly sequences featuring a chef with a mouse and a guest with a globe are gut-wrenchingly beautiful.

Indian Ink’s aim is “to make theatre that is beautiful, funny, sad, and true.” This could not have been achieved to a higher standard in The Pickle King. This play features heart-breaking hilarity and uplifting sorrow in one breath. I was moved to laughter, to tears, and to warming revelations that I will carry with me always.

Logan Lucky (M) 119 Mins ★ ★ ★ ★ ½ Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

Director Steven Soderbergh has come out of retirement with a winning new heist film, Logan Lucky. Soderbergh has spent four years away from the director’s chair, and it’s been 10 years since his smash hit Oceans Eleven. His return to the heist genre with this latest venture is a much more affectionate, but still very cool, look at how to take the money and run.

Logan Lucky is a about a working-class family in the United States who believe themselves cursed. When Jimmy Logan (Channing Tatum) is laid off from his job as a construction worker at the Charlotte Motor Speedway, he recruits his brother Clyde (Adam Driver) to help him enact a grand plan. With the help of eccentric explosives expert Jimmy (Daniel Craig), they plan to rob the speedway on the day of its biggest race, the Coca-Cola 600.

One of Soderbergh’s greatest strengths is unwinding a complicated plot with clarity and elegance, and Logan Lucky’s firecracker of a narrative is an excellent example of this. There is no weighty dialogue regarding the Logans’ plans. Instead, what we need to do know is meted out to us in fits and starts. It makes for a twisty, unconventional narrative that manages to never lose the audience in confusion.

Despite their obvious inclination towards violence, the Logans are perhaps even more likeable than the star-studded cast of the Oceans series. While the robberies of Oceans Eleven et al were more about revenge or prestige than profits, the Logans need this money. Soderbergh’s subtle take on the economic anxieties of America’s white working class could have been much more heavy-handed than what we get in Logan Lucky (especially in our era of Trump). To his credit, the film pulls back on the social commentary to focus instead on the pleasures of the slick thrills of the heist genre. It’s a footnote in an otherwise hugely entertaining, smart Hollywood film that may even join Oceans Eleven as one of the greats.

M’Lady Written by Cassandra Tse and James Cain Directed by Cassandra Tse BATS Theatre, 16th Aug Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

When “nice guy” Elliot (vocal powerhouse Aimee Smith) can’t get the girl, he is taken under the wing of Pick Up Artist (PUA) extraordinaire, G (the superbly gross Jayne Grace). G has a whole 70 bucks at stake, thanks to a bet with his loyal side-kick Adrian (the surreptitiously sweet Freya Van Alphen Fyfe) that he can turn Elliot “from schmuck to skux” in a week’s time. Come week’s end, Elliot must face off against the big bad PUA, Nemésis (the enigmatic Karen Anslow). Elliot rises to the challenge, but remains bewildered and distraught by his constant relegation to the ‘friendzone’. His confusion is aided and abetted by his emotionally-withdrawn, rugby mad father, Al (Anslow, who ripped my heart open in this role).

M’Lady is, first and foremost, a satire of meninism, which is a parody of feminism. It does not, however, poke fun at all men. Just the worst men. You know the ones.

It is also a very shrewd examination of the patriarchy, hyperbolic in presentation yet relatable in essence. Why can’t men show their emotions? Why do women go for bad boys, not nice guys? Why can’t women just be naturally beautiful? It slaughters stereotypes by noting how ridiculous it is to ask these questions while its characters, in fact, ask them. It’s genius really. At the same time, it’s intelligent and insightful; entertaining and hilarious.

Musical Director Michael Stebbings is brilliant. We’re treated to a live mini-orchestra which I wouldn’t sacrifice for anything, but our actors really do need mics. I lost about 20% of what I’m sure were excellent lines, as well as some beautiful vocal tonalities (particularly from Grace and Fyfe) among the music.

I’m rapidly running out of words, so: M’Lady features the best use of a penny I’ve ever seen, our ensemble (Marysia Collins and Greer Phillips) is friggin’ fabulous, and I’m going to have Better than Beta stuck in my head for weeks.

Caging Skies Written by Desiree Gezentsvey Directed by Andrew Foster Running at Circa Theatre until 9th Sep Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Caging Skies is based on a book of the same name by Christine Leunens and is set in WWII. It follows an extremely zealous member of the Vienna Hitler Youth, Johannes (Tim Earl), who is sent home from combat following an injury. When he arrives, he discovers that his family is harbouring a young Jewish woman, Elsa (Comfrey Sanders), and rather promptly falls in love with her.

Caging Skies features some beautiful moments and is an intriguing work, to say the least. I was engaged throughout the performance, but not invested in some of the characters before me. I have put this down to the portrayal of the relationship between Johannes and Elsa, which is the focal point of the piece. Johannes’ infatuation with Elsa is not believable or credible, and not for the reasons one might think when examining the premise of the play.

Johannes moves straight from (literally) heiling Hitler to falling in love with a Jewish woman. We don’t get to see his process, we don’t get to see him wrestling with his conscience and overturning the belief system he has been indoctrinated into, because the play instead chooses to show us relatively inconsequential moments that have no real bearing on the themes present. I wanted desperately to dive deeply into the hard stuff; the convoluted psyche of a young Nazi confronted by humanity, but the text did not allow me to do so.

Caging Skies does feature some stunning design elements and performances. Donna Akersten as Oma is a masterful actor, nuanced, poised, and balanced. She is a consummate professional and brings such joy to an otherwise dark world – due credit to Gezentsvey for Oma’s sharp, witty, and hilarious dialogue here. The haunting sound design, featuring original works by Jeremy Cullen and beautiful violin playing by Yury Gezentsvey, and the subtle, unsettling set and lighting design (Andrew Foster) create a captivating atmosphere that lifts the work substantially.

Beethoven + Bruch with Karen Gomyo Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Edo de Waart Michael Fowler Centre, 12th Aug Reviewed by Tamsin Evans

A second concert only a day after the first (Mahler + Berg with Karen Gomyo) was a treat for NZSO concertgoers. The popularity of the programme on Saturday was apparent in the much fuller house. This was an opportunity for audience, soloist, and orchestra alike to experience a balanced, complementary programme across both nights. Despite the obviously heavy workload at the peak of their season, it would be impossible to think the NZSO would deliver anything other than a great performance and they didn’t disappoint.

A five-minute, high-speed, spine-tingling race kicked the show off with a bang. Short Ride in a Fast Machine (John Adams) picked up the energy of the Mahler Symphony No.1, Titan, of the night before. Highly rhythmic, making great use of the percussion section, the audience was left breathless and alert.

Max Bruch’s Violin Concerto in G minor, op.26, is one of the most popular concertos in the repertoire and the audience very much enjoyed Karen Gomyo’s interpretation. Her tone was wonderful, her virtuoso playing very impressive indeed, and the orchestra provided a superb balance of just the right weight and expression to allow the violin and Gomyo herself to shine brightly.

Ending the night with another well-loved and widely known work (Ludwig van Beethoven, Symphony No. 7 in A major, op.92) was also a hit with the audience. Both conductor and orchestra were relishing this climax to their two-day programme. The enthusiasm and skill on the stage was delightful. This concert was a reminder of how lucky we are in New Zealand to have such fine musicians on our doorsteps that we can attract world-class soloists and turn out a weekend of music that spans the centuries and leaves the audience in wonderment at what they have heard and seen.

Mahler + Berg with Karen Gomyo Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Edo de Waart Michael Fowler Centre, 11th Aug Reviewed by Tamsin Evans

Salina Fisher’s Rainphase opened the first of two concerts with a local storm. Wind and rain blew through the auditorium with the sound and feel of Wellington’s weather at its winter best, coming to a close on a still night.

On a second visit to play with the NZSO, Canadian violinist Karen Gomyo came to the stage for her performance of Alban Berg’s Violin Concerto. The atonal concerto is a difficult piece to play and, for some, to listen to. However, from the opening notes to the final, highest possible point of the violin’s capacity, Gomyo played with an extraordinarily beautiful tone. This was a sublime combination of her mastery and the violin itself, the ’Aurora, ex Foulis’ Stradivarius violin of 1703.

It was a pleasure to see Edo de Waart conducting the latest in his Masterworks series, after others had taken the podium in recent months. His relaxed and apparently laid-back style belies the control and direction he employs to bring out the best in his players.

Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No.1 in D Major, Titan, was a fine example of that best playing. An orchestra of a hundred or so, folk songs, dances, a funeral march, a double bass solo, fanfares, strong percussion, unstoppable and infectious rhythm and melody – Titan has it all. From the not usually seen fourth flute and oboe to the harp, two sets of Timpani, and a full complement of brass, there was no sound this orchestra could not make.

From the start, it was obvious the orchestra was enjoying itself and the players reached their greatest heights of entertainment and fun at the finale. A long performance ended in a grand final movement. Looking around the audience, there were many smiles reflecting those on the faces of the orchestra and our Masterworks conductor.

The Big Sick (M) 124 Mins ★ ★ ★ ★ Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

One of the nicest things about The Big Sick is learning afterwards that the tale is closely based on real events. It’s a story with such grace and nuance that it’s lovely to know that real-life families and lovers involved will be just as charmed as audiences.

The Big Sick closely follows the rocky first year of the romance between the film’s co-writers Kumail Nanjiani and Emily V Gordon, who – spoiler – are now married. Nanjiani also plays this lightly fictionalised version of himself in the film. His coy, charming male lead meets sparky psychology student Emily (Zoe Kazan), and they quickly fall in love. Unfortunately, Kumail’s family are traditional Pakistani Muslim, and they want to see Kumail settled in a traditional arranged marriage. When Emily finds out Kumail can’t see a future with her, she breaks it off. Here’s where the real drama begins: she falls mysteriously ill and is put in a medical coma.

While the pair’s romance is masterfully portrayed, and always falls just shy of overly sentimental, the real treat of The Big Sick is its second act. Kumail has to get to know the in-laws (played by Ray Romano and Holly Hunter). Romano and Hunter are both wonderful as protective, worried parents who don’t quite know what to make of Kumail. The performances all three of them give are bold and utterly human, and make sure to never quite forget what brings them together – the deathly ill Emily.

The softening of Muslim stereotypes featured in the film is wonderful. There is a montage sequence where ‘suitable girls’ are paraded past Kumail in a series of dinner parties thrown by his mother. Such moments are used for laughs, but the writing is clever enough that we understand that we are laughing gently, as we would at our own families.

The Big Sick has breathed life into the rom-com genre for 2017. It turns out that Nanjiani and Gordon’s love story doesn’t just make a nice dinner party anecdote – it also makes a great movie.

Daphnis and Chloe Presented by Orchestra Wellington Michael Fowler Centre, 5th Aug Reviewed by Emily Sharp

In this concert, we welcome back some old friends to the stage: as always Marc Taddei, and our own Stephen De Pledge. The programme was Schuman and the namesake of the concert, Daphnis and Chloe.

Personally I find Schuman a little exhausting; there’s too much boldness within his romanticism. But as his work was well within the programme’s romantic taste, it was a beautiful line up – if not a little long. Of course, we all know that Taddei has a penchant for being able to master and create symbiosis with the orchestra to whichever composer or works that he chooses. As a result, our Schuman here was more daring, exciting, and energetic. Orchestra Wellington and Taddei showed the usual boldness and bravado of this piece in a new light.

I remember particularly enjoying seeing De Pledge play last year for Chamber Music with Suyeon Kang (which was utterly delightful), so I was glad for the opportunity to see him play again. Like Taddei, De Pledge approaches Schuman’s pieces in a different way, this time giving the romanticism within a fresh, hearty taste. This was a wonderful concerto, with a neat little encore piece leading us into the interval.

Unfortunately, around the time Daphnis and Chloe began and then during most of the performance, there was electrical feedback of some sort. The beeping wasn’t particularly loud, but you could definitely hear it within the orchestra (so could the person next to me). This was a bit of a shame, but I couldn’t let it detract from the piece we had all been waiting for. It was a masterpiece, as always from this Orchestra. I was quick to liken it to Taddei’s stand out concerts, Firebird and Nutcracker, which were again very explosive and a true testament to Taddei’s multilingual conversations with different composers.

This concert was longer than usual, but an absolutely charming evening and the audience was in full appreciation of the performance. Taddei teased us with a nod towards having an actual circus at the September concert… can’t wait!

The Takács Quartet Presented by Chamber Music NZ Michael Fowler Centre, 4th Aug Reviewed by Emily Sharp

I would just like to start off by saying, what a concert! The audience and I were enthralled from the get-go to the very end. The Takács Quartet are absolutely incredible, and what a joy to attend such a concert. For our first half we had Haydn and a New Zealand composer, then finished with Webern – which led on from our NZ composer beautifully.

Being a particular fan of Haydn, I was looking forward to the quartet’s rendition. It was superb; the notes and flourishes were bold and full of bravado but also with a sweet air remnant of our melodic Haydn. While of course we can forgive Haydn for being a little busy at the time and unorthodox in his sonata style, his work really is magnificent and the Takács Quartet did it perfect justice.

I was completely blown away by the second piece by Anthony Ritchie, Whakatipua. It is a representation in a different formula to Webern’s Langsamer Satz, which followed shortly after. It was strong, lonely, and romantic and took us on a long-winded but steadfast embrace. It reminded me a little of Ramin Djawadi’s latest work. The cold and eerie allure of the Remarkables and Lake Wakatipu’s surrounds with a hint of romance wove together well with the wistful and heavy relationship the pioneers and settlers had with the land itself. Our trip on to Austria’s alps was a smooth ride, our two pieces complementing each other yet drawing away and taking us on our own separate journey.

Lastly on the programme, Dvořák’s final string quartet No.14 kept the romantic tune of the evening. It was nice to be able to hear the foreshadowing in this particular piece of Dvořák’s later pieces (A Hero’s Song, in particular). With the group’s boldness and affinity with the composers and their works, this particular performance and dedication was something else.

The Takács Quartet have absolutely mastered their craft here and stand apart as musicians. The audience warmly received them and were delightfully treated to an encore – an unmissable evening.

Peninsula Written by Gary Henderson Directed by Annabel Hensley Running at Gryphon Theatre until 12th Aug Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Peninsula follows the families of Duvauchelle, a small town in Banks Peninsula, Canterbury through the summer of 1964. Some residents love rural life in the Bay, some hate living in such a tight-knit community where gossip spreads like cowpat on bare feet.

Michael Hope (Lee Dowsett) is a young boy with a passion for cartography. His teacher, new Duvauchelle resident Gordon MacIntosh (Greg Robins), inspires him to attend the annual school science fair in Christchurch – but alas, all does not go to plan. Michael’s fellow student Lynette DuPont (the delightfully snooty Catherine McMechan) sees to that.

Peninsula is a beautifully-rendered script, weaving in inferences of the racism, sexism, and homophobia of small town New Zealand with expert craftsmanship. Henderson is never explicit, never deliberately draws the audience’s attention to these underlying themes, and yet still expresses a powerful, vital message.

In the script, 10 characters are played by five actors. Each actor plays a child and an adult, save for Robins, who plays a teacher and a dog. The latter performance was exquisite and totally the highlight of this production for me.

Transactions are seamless, the set sparse: stools are our only props. There’s no costume or set changes, just photography (Ross Miller, Hayden Rogers, Ross Foubister) projected onto a screen behind the stage to set the scene. Despite how beautiful and artistic these shots were, I think they were unnecessary – there’s enough in the script and the excellent soundscape (designed by Alan Burden) to suggest where we are and I would have loved to have let my mind take me there. Imagination is a prevalent theme of Peninsula: let the audience in on the fun!

This production has been my favourite of Wellington Repertory Theatre’s so far. All actors rose to the monumental challenge set before them to present dynamic, adept performances. What a respectful, committed, and heart-warming presentation of a beyond brilliant script. Brava!

Dunkirk (M) 106 Mins ★ ★ ★ ★ Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

Full disclosure: I am a big fan of Christopher Nolan, the director of Dunkirk and previous cerebral blockbusters Inception and The Dark Knight. He’s a director with a knack for clever, hugely entertaining films for audiences and critics alike. Dunkirk, his passion project, has to be his best film to date.

Like so much of Nolan’s work, Dunkirk borrows bits and pieces from both the mainstream and arthouse cinema. The plot, for example, is a bit weird; it’s split up into overlapping stories: the mole, the sea, and the air. Without giving too much away, the men in each situation (which all occur over the same course of time during WWII’s famous battle of Dunkirk) are dealing with the oddities of war, as well as wrestling for their lives.

The best part about Dunkirk is that each of the plots is, for a Nolan film, refreshingly simple. There is far less of the expository dialogue that weighed down the first half of Inception, for example. We’re left with far more time with the director’s masterful command of the camera in the film’s lengthy action scenes. There’s a particular focus on the small things, like knuckles on the edge of a boat, or soaring jetplanes in a distant sky, which feels fresh and crisp – a real victory for a film about WWII.

The film’s obsession with the details in the scene, as well as the plot’s use of three elements (land, sea, sky), explores a sharp existentialist idea of survival. These soldiers fight to come through whatever horrors wait for them in the next moments, minutes, or hours – but then what? We only meet these men in the times they are at their most desperate; we know nothing of their homes, and whoever’s waiting there for them.

Yes, Dunkirk is another WWII film about war, but what makes Nolan’s venture unique is his minute focus on the human instinct to survive, and how that can seem ridiculous – even futile – in the hostile world of war.

Alexander Shelley Returns Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Alexander Shelley Michael Fowler Centre 29th Jul Reviewed by Tamsin Evans

At only 37, Alexander Shelley has an impressive CV and clearly has much to offer us through his conducting and directing for many years yet. His clarity and style expresses as much to the audience as it clearly does the performers.

The NZSO was superb as usual. The programme presented opportunities for the whole orchestra to share the limelight, and the expressive and remarkable playing of the many individuals and sections playing as soloists shone brightly.

After a lush and lyrical evocation of Aotearoa's native forests in Leonie Holmes' Frond from Three Landscapes for Orchestra, the spotlight was firmly focussed on guitarist Pablo Sáinz Villegas. In the original sense of the word – something which inspires awe – this was an awesome performance. Joaquín Rodrigo composed Concierto de Aranjuez in 1939 while he was in France and unable to return home due to the Spanish Civil War. His longing and love for his country is evident in the music. Villegas, also a Spaniard far from home, poured his whole heart and soul into his performance.

His command of technique, ability to dominate an orchestra with an unamplified guitar, virtuoso playing, and deep and physically obvious connection to the music were all incredible. The orchestra was reduced in number and their relatively sparse but meticulous playing brought the heat of Spain to the stage. The audience was hooked from the opening flamenco to the final strum, and after enthusiastic applause brought an encore, a piece from Villegas' home of Rioja, the audience quickly rose to their feet with a standing ovation.

Béļa Bartok's Concerto for Orchestra had everything a listener could wish for after so much excitement. In five movements, the deeply expressive music conveyed everything from dark drama to hurried confusion, quiet melody, tension through repetition, sober and sombre dance, and the speed and fury of a fight. Awesome.

Baby Driver (R13) 113 Mins ★ ★ ★ ★ ½ Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

For a film directed by an English director (Edgar Wright), Baby Driver is an excellent, very Hollywood movie. It’s like a good burger; trimmed of any unnecessary fat, but just the right amount of hammy, cheesy Americana goodness.

The action-comedy opens with appropriately baby-faced Baby (Ansel Elgort), a getaway driver, jamming out on his iPod while his accomplices rob a bank. Baby has tinnitus due to a childhood motor accident that killed his parents, and he listens to music almost constantly to tune it out. It turns out the motley bunch of bank robbers are a regular team in crime, answering to the malevolent Doc (Kevin Spacey). Baby, however, is not planning to be in the getaway driving business for long. He owes a debt to Doc, and once it’s paid, he’s done, as he tells his ageing foster father Joe repeatedly.

Of course, it doesn’t go to plan. Baby meets a girl and “catches feelings”. They want to hit the road and go west, but Doc won’t let his most talented driver go so easily.

Like Wright’s other films, Hot Fuzz and Shaun of the Dead, much of Baby Driver’s joy is in the visual tricks he plays. This action movie feels like no other in cinemas today, despite its car chases and tense meetings in windowless rooms. A particular joy is the rolling drums that play over most hectic action scenes; gunshots and booms fall in time with Baby’s choice of soundtrack. It’s a clever way of getting an audience to tune in with a hearing-impaired character, whose experience of his aural surroundings is driven by hooks, melodies, and rhythm.

The film is a delicious, delightful ode to 1970’s Hollywood, where the industry was unafraid of telling big stories about big things like love, death, and freedom; but also where movies were unafraid of hitting audiences with hope and optimism. Baby Driver is smart escapism; an action movie with a heart, and totally unmissable.

Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra Presented by NZSO National Youth Orchestra Conducted by James MacMillan Michael Fowler Centre, 14th Jul Reviewed by Tamsin Evans

This was not just a Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra, but also a good look at the orchestra of the future. The NZSO National Youth Orchestra (NYO), world premieres by their Composers in Residence from 2016 and 2017, James MacMillan’s first percussion concerto (we heard the second from the NZSO a week earlier), and Benjamin Britten’s Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra (Variations and Fugue on a Theme of Purcell) combined to present the audience with a challenging programme, filled with extraordinary contrast and some inspiring performances.

Celeste Oram’s 2016 piece, The Young People’s Guide to the Orchestra, had some listeners baffled for the first few minutes. A tribute to the decades-long partnership between Radio New Zealand (RNZ) and orchestras around the country, the NYO drifted onto the stage with their instruments and a radio each. A convincing RNZ narrative (but listen carefully for jokes and twists on the theme) accompanied the orchestra as they traversed the conventional and unconventional soundscape.

Colin Currie joined MacMillan on stage to play his percussion concerto Veni, Veni Emmanuel. An array of familiar instruments faced Currie, predominantly drums, and off he went on a high energy, technically and musically awesome performance. The NYO performed well, responding to the unique opportunity of very personal direction from the composer conductor.

Composer in Residence 2017, Reuben Jellyman, was inspired by Monteverdi’s Vespro della Beata Vergine to write his Vespro. Subtle references and echoes of the Vespers could be heard within a very modern and contemplative narrative. A beautiful piece of music.

The finale, Britten’s Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra, was a showcase for the country’s best young orchestral players, and they stepped up to the mark to bring us a fine rendition of this much loved, familiar, and well-known piece. Solo interludes from all parts of the orchestra were well articulated. This was a satisfying way to end a novel and dramatic evening.

Kuijken Quartet Presented by Chamber Music New Zealand Michael Fowler Centre, 15th Jul Reviewed by Emily Sharp

As most people know, string quartets are well-suited for such intimate gatherings as dinner parties and social affairs rather than larger public concerts. The esteemed Kuijken Quartet played Mozart and Haydn with members of La Petite Band for this concert.

Yes, it was fresh and enigmatic, as you would expect from masters of the genre. However, I found that because the players were so true to the original architecture of the intimate quartet-pieces that were chosen, perhaps the Michael Fowler Centre wasn’t the best choice of venue.

Take the first Mozart string quartet played for example, K.464; it was charming, resolute, and with the enigmatic property of usual Mozart. It melted effortlessly into itself, which is what you would expect for a social gathering. Rather than being a concert performance, it was more a conversation – which is the intended design of the piece. I would like to see the Kuijken Quartet play at a soiree. This is not a reflection on their musicianship, just purely on the fact that as they manage to perfect their craft so well, their performance reverted K.464 to its original intent of composure.

Granted, the Haydn was more exciting, as the Kuijken Quartet chose to play No.30 in E Flat: The Joke. This is one of the rare occasions that it can be safely said that Haydn presents more character and emotion than Mozart in a piece. I’m of course comparing these specific pieces to the ones I heard before and after, but it still quite obviously showed and the audience loved it.

The programme was streamlined in terms of how the pieces were presented: a slow gradual build-up with K.464, the plot twist and really getting to know and understand the players with The Joke, and a smooth finish; the Kuijken Quartet almost played us out with Mozart’s K.575.

Unfortunately, I didn’t think this concert went as well as intended. But, this was an absolute rarity for Chamber Music; one outlier in a superb track record.

Attila the Hun Written by Abby Howells Directed by Patrick Davies Running at BATS Theatre until 29th Jul Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Attila The Hun is set in fast-food joint The Fat Burger, home of the Fat Burger, and follows workers Jo (Freya Hope Higginson), Ian (Isaac Thomas), Maryanne (Shania Lahina), and Tom (Angus Long), whose last name is Cruise, much to his dismay. Our star is Attila the Hun (Adam Herbert), a mere mortal who genuinely believes he is Attila the Hun and behaves as such. Attila has just lost the managerial position to Jo, who no one likes. Chaos ensues.

This show was not only the highlight of the Young & Hungry Festival of New Theatre for me, but also the highlight of my week. Month, even? There are just so many reasons why Attila the Hun is excellent. Allow me to name a few.

My first point, which is probably the least relevant to both theatregoers and our readers, is that Isaac Thomas was the literal embodiment of Morty (Rick and Morty). Watching his (glorious!) performance was like watching a walking, talking Morty live onstage. If you are a fan of the cartoon, you must see Attila the Hun, even if only for this.

What I love the most about Howells’ script is that one subtle line, which I won’t give away here, completely changes the game and lifts the story from a hilarious to a deeply heartfelt one. Attila the Hun is a beautifully textured piece with multiple layers that are a joy to peel as we watch the complexities of the story unfold.

Each performance is supreme, Higginson suitably pristine and delightfully annoying, Lahina vivaciously unenthused, Long polite yet unobliging, and Herbert heroic and sensationally committed. A number of comedic cameos also feature, which are mostly giggle-worthy. I did find the drag gag unnecessary, as the script is entertaining enough on its own and doesn’t need cheap laughs.

Lest I forget – the fight scene is exquisite and features the best utilisation of ketchup I have ever seen.

Bravo!

Fallen Angels Written by Emily Duncan Directed by Rose Kirkup Running at BATS Theatre until 29th Jul Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Nicole (Becky Lane) and Brandon (Thomas Hughes) are being held hostage in their own home by Taylor (Zoe Christall), Jayden (Dylan Chetwin), and Levy (Hosea Tapuai). Taylor and Jayden lost their infant daughter to child services following an appearance on Max’s Angels, a reality TV show hosted by Nicole and Brandon’s father, Max Angelis (David Conroy).

Emily Duncan’s script deals with wealth disparity and the impact of reality TV on disadvantaged youth. Whilst I appreciate the decision to tackle these difficult subjects, I can’t abide with the casting in Fallen Angels. The disadvantaged youth were all cast as people of colour while the rich kids were played by Pākehās. I’m sure the script does not call for such discrimination.*

There are also a lot of problematic elements in the script itself. Max’s daughter Nicole is a stripper, something she keeps secret from her father because she views it as a shameful profession. That’s not great, but still kind of ok if it’s the character’s personal opinion on the matter. However, it is clearly every character’s opinion on the matter. Taylor, Jayden, and Levy all threaten to leak videos of Nicole at work to disgrace her father. When her father does find out, he physically hangs his head in shame. Sex work is a legal profession in New Zealand and this play just helps to further the stigma around it.

We are supposed to have sympathy for Taylor and Jayden because their child has been taken away from them. This is treated as a great injustice in the script, but then both parents proceed to hold two teenagers hostage and burn their house down, committing suicide and murder in the process. I’m sorry to spoil the plot here, but it’s very hard to believe that their child was removed from their care due to a corrupt system rather than irresponsible parenting. This is the main focal point of the script and in my opinion a deeply flawed premise.

* Through further investigation, I have learned that the script does indeed call for Pacific Islanders to play the roles of Taylor, Levy, and Jayden. In that case, I now understand that Fallen Angels was written to address the disadvantages that Pacific Islanders face in society. Again, I commend Emily Duncan for tackling this subject. However, it is not at all clear, in script or performance, that these characters were written as Pacific Islanders. Therefore, the casting in this production comes across as a very unfortunate, very offensive mistake. I urge Duncan to address the racial theme in her work through written dialogue or some other means so that this does not happen again.

One Night Only Written by Finnius Teppett Directed by Stella Reid Running at BATS Theatre until 29th Jul Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Best friends M1 (Ethan Morse) and M2 (Jacinta Compton) are beyond excited to see their favourite band, Fourever, in concert. The action amps up when the dynamic duo “scores” a backstage pass on the night, but they find more than they bargained for in that hallowed dressing room. Where did the fourth band member really go when he quit under mysterious circumstances late last year? And who on earth is Mimi?

Teppett’s script presents a lot more than first meets the eye. As you’d expect from a play about fan girls and band boys, the story starts off sweet and sparkly, with mammoth energy present in both dialogue and performance. This energy continues through gradually (and expertly) incorporated twists and turns, resulting in a sensational, yet still believable story. In terms of relationship dynamics, I particularly loved the unexpectedly unhappy ending – or, as you could call it, a necessary resolution for all friendships involved.

The casting here is as clever as the script, with each member of each team (the band, the journos, and the besties) balancing out the other perfectly. Compton is a grounding force to Morse’s exuberance; Trae Te Wiki a cool, calm, and collected point of stability to Pauline Ward’s zealous roly-poly-laden performance; and bandmates Ben Ashby (Clayton) and Oliver Pol (Robbie) delightful neutralisers of Jacob Brown’s seriously sparky and shiny Ricky. Not one cast member outshines the other; rather, all actors work together to present a collective, nuanced performance.

Small asides and whispered mutterings (assumedly unscripted) are also a massive highlight here, adding oodles of depth and subtext to each character.

The only thing that I think lets this highly entertaining production down is the set. Tacking shirts to a wall serves its purpose but is not particularly innovative. However, I did thoroughly enjoy set-designer Isadora Lao’s shrewd incorporation of a well-known cult symbol, which I shan’t spoil here. One Night Only really is full of surprises.

Bold Worlds Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by James Macmillan Michael Fowler Centre, 8th Jul Reviewed by Tamsin Evans

This year's Bold Worlds programme was a very good night for the brass section and the second in the NZSO's British Festival series of three concerts.

Polaris (Thomas Adès) put this listener in mind of the sea and travelling through deep oceans. However, Polaris is a reference to the North Star, the night sky and the magnetic attraction of the North and South Poles. In the composer's context of celestial navigation, the image of ocean travel was a good fit. The brass section led the development of the musical theme as the balance shifted between the surprisingly clear sounds of the muted and muffled trumpets down to the bass tuba. The shades of dark and light and the repetition through canon sequences would make a great soundtrack for a thriller.

A rare treat followed, a signature of the annual Bold Worlds programme: the composer conducted his own piece, played by the soloist to whom the work was dedicated. James Macmillan was joined on stage by Colin Currie to perform Macmillan's Percussion Concerto No.2. Currie was faced by an extensive range of instruments laid out at the front of the stage and he moved amongst them masterfully, bringing forth an amazing breadth of sound. Again, the brass section, neither muffled nor muted, was to the fore and made a perfect accompaniment to the variety of sounds and textures crafted from Currie's expert playing. Sliding strings added to the richness and diversity of sound from the stage and accentuated a solo passage from piano, viola, and flute. Enjoying the sheer majesty of a full orchestra and percussion, a maelstrom of sound built to a final, glorious height.

Ralph Vaughan Williams Symphony No.4 in F Minor startled audiences in the 1930s with its dissonant, resolutely modern sound and balanced the contemporary first half of the concert. In four movements, the final Scherzo and Finale echo the energy of Macmillan and the canon of Adès, making a satisfying and complete programme.

Houstoun and Debussy Presented by Orchestra Wellington Michael Fowler Centre, 7th July Reviewed by Susan Barker

This concert, the second of the year for Orchestra Wellington, continued with the theme of Diaghilev – who was a ballet impresario and founder of the Ballets Russes (among other things).

The concert opened with Claude Debussy’s Jeux – a ballet commissioned by Diaghilev – of which the programme states: “the score calls for a huge orchestra, but its forces are deployed with great restraint”. The ballet premiered in Paris in 1913 but was unfortunately “eclipsed by the premiere of the Rite of Spring two weeks later”.

While I think the audience appreciated this piece, it was not moving. I can understand its place in the classical musical canon and the value of its influence, but without the accompanying ballet, it does not captivate. The audience was polite but not entertained. It was played well but lacked depth and the “great restraint” felt frustrating at times.

Then we moved on to two concertos played by Michael Houstoun. The first piece was Mozart's D minor Piano Concerto. As expected with a musician of Houstoun’s talent, it was technically impeccable and a nice change from the somewhat abstract piece that preceded it. However, while there were no discernable technical faults, something felt lacking in terms of conviction or heart when it came to pivotal movements of the work.

I believe, however, that the concert came into its own for the final piece of the evening – Brahms' First Piano Concerto. The performance had what the audience was searching for: fervor and superb playing. The finale was intense and was possibly the highlight of the night. I would also like to note that Marc Taddei excelled as a conductor throughout the concert and particularly with the finale.

All in all, it was a mixed evening and I think it is a challenge to get the audience back on track after an unsatisfactory opening (not that this was a problem with the actual performance, rather the choice of music). However, the last performance appeared to accomplish this.

Lands of Hope and Glory Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Hamish McKeich Michael Fowler Centre, 30th Jun Reviewed by Tamsin Evans

This was a diverse programme to celebrate the British and Irish Lions rugby series.

Opening with the jaunty Cockaigne (In London Town) Op.40 by Edward Elgar, the orchestra, introduced by mezzo Helen Medlyn (our vocal performer and presenter for the night), was soon into its stride. Ireland was represented by Three Pieces for Orchestra II Irish Landscape by Sir Arnold Bax and followed with An Orkney Wedding, with Sunrise by Sir Peter Maxwell Davies.

This was an extraordinarily visual piece. In less than 15 minutes we heard the wedding party formalities, then the dancing (the NZSO could easily host a fine ceilidh) followed by considerable quantities of whisky. The effects were suitably expressed by a glissando passage from Julia Joyce, principal viola, which made the audience laugh. From the dregs of the party we heard the sky brightening and the sun rising, brought into focus by the most Scottish of sounds, the solo bagpiper, Dr Brendon Eade.

Two contrasting pieces followed, both equally evocative of their respective landscapes. Douglas Lilburn’s Aotearoa Overture easily brought to mind a soaring and swooping aerial journey across Aotearoa. The shapes, shadows, and colours of Central Otago, Waikato, East Cape, Westland, and elsewhere were all apparent. The Ralph Vaughan Williams classic, The Lark Ascending, led the audience straight to the pastoral scenery of rural Britain. The NZSO’s Concertmaster Vesa-Matti Leppänen took the part of the lark and played his heart out. It is not an easy solo piece but his relaxed performance made it seem so.

Audience participation was the name of the game for the final pieces. Up first was a Folk Song Melody, traditional songs arranged by Hazell, during which the crowd was encouraged to sing along with Medlyn. Pokarekare Ana gave the audience a solid New Zealand footing from which to launch in to Elgar’s Pomp and Circumstance March No.1 Land of Hope and Glory. The Lions may have taken this to heart when they took the field on Saturday night.

Carrie the Musical Directed by Ben Emerson Presented by WITCH Running at BATS Theatre until 1st Jul Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

For those unfamiliar with Carrie, Ben Emerson described it perfectly when he told me to “think of it like a twisted, dark version of Matilda.” Bullied girl, nasty school children, supernatural powers, one nice teacher, and – er, a less than satisfactory mother: it’s all there, but in Carrie’s case there’s a bit of death involved too. Oh, and there’s a lot of blood.

The passion and commitment that every single person has poured into this production is abundantly clear on stage. Each chorus member brings oodles of energy and their own little quirks to the show, pom-pom-ridden Juliane Estella being my favourite.

Julie O’Brien plays Carrie’s (Eryn Street’s) mother Margaret, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard such a voice. O’Brien and Street’s voices are perfect together, as are Street’s with softer vocalist Konrad Makisi, who plays the popular yet lovely Tommy Ross. Makisi brings such a delicate sweetness to his role that, when he tells Sue Snell (the gorgeous Flora Lloyd) he loves her, the audience audibly coos. Or maybe that was just me and I gasped so loud, I thought everyone else did too. It’s hard to tell.

Then there’s Natasha Sime, who played the villainous role of Chris Hargensen so well, I accidentally booed her during the curtain call and had to subsequently shout: “In a good way!” And let's not forget our bold, beautiful powerhouse: Eryn Street.

Jonathan Morgan’s choreography is MacGyver-esque, and the musical score marvelously rendered by Michael Nicholas Williams.

This WITCH production of Carrie is highly polished and beyond enjoyable. It’s captivating and engaging, and whether it’s your cup of tea or not (it’s totally my cup of tea by the way), you won’t regret going, because you’ll experience pure, glorious escape. Not once will your mind wander; instead, you’ll lose yourself in the vibrancy and dynamism before you.

WITCH’s Carrie is both visually and aurally spectacular. Honestly, I might go again.

The Mummy (M) 113 Mins ★ Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

It was only while researching for this review that I came across the news that this year’s The Mummy is to be the start of a loosely-connected movie ‘series’ from Marvel, centred on ghoulish icky creatures and monsters.

I hope they’re rethinking the idea after The Mummy, which is, overall, one of the blockbusters to miss this year. It’s strange, because you can see the money that’s been thrown at in every aspect of the film – from the casting of ageing heartthrob Tom Cruise to the admittedly impressive digital renditions of the evil girl spirit. But the movie comes across heartless and joyless; it’s all noise without any wonder.

As in the original movie, bold treasure hunter Nick Morton (Cruise), stumbles across an unknown tomb in the Egyptian desert. His whole team dies, and Nick is cursed until the end of time by the mummy within; in this case, a young Egyptian princess named Ahmanet who murdered her whole family with black magic. As she is awoken she follows Nick to ensure his demise. And wow – he should have died. While the images never get gorey, Nick is knocked around like a rag doll, at least until he and a team of monster specialists get her under control. There’s also a very strange love triangle tension between Cruise, his love interest Jenny (Annabelle Wallis) and er – Ahmanet, the undead manifestation of evil. It’s very strange.

Exorcising a curse is not a very fun process, but even so, this version of The Mummy takes itself so seriously, but so seriously under-executes, it’s not even ridiculous. It’s just tedious. The 1999 version of The Mummy starring Brendan Fraser was goofy, even camp. It knew that its moments of slapstick humour and its vulnerably charismatic lead sold its ridiculous plot, even as it was ripping off Indiana Jones. Tom Cruise skulking in a slick, glass government hideout with his phantom nowhere to be seen is nowhere near as entertaining as a shining Brendan Fraser bursting into every shot.

The Maids Written by Jean Genet Directed by Samuel Phillips FLUX at Wellington Museum, 20th Jun Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Two maids, Claire (Batanai Mashingaidze) and Solange (Keagan Carr Fransch), plot to murder their employer, known only as Madame (Stevie Hancox-Monk). Reality and fantasy intertwine in Madame’s bedroom, where Claire and Solange indulge in fantasy roleplays that at first speak of escape and later reek of menace.

I’m aware that Genet’s The Maids has seen thousands of adaptations and performances across the globe since it first premiered in 1947. Having not seen any of these, I approach this production with fresh eyes and no prior knowledge of what has been done with the play in the past.

The first thing that struck me about Andrew Paterson’s adaptation was its brevity – it’s very plot-driven, and implied elements of absurdism never quite come to fruition. The performances are as driven as the script, each actor presenting an electric, bold, dynamic energy that mesmerises us. Underneath the zest, it’s clear that each cast member possesses a deep and engaged understanding of their character. Performances are extreme but at the same time delicate and nuanced. Natural talent abounds; these were already some of my favourite actors.

The performances are absolutely the highlight of this production, though I will say that at times the volume of the energy was too much for the tiny (but lovely, thanks FLUX!) space; shouting sometimes withdrew us from the moment.

Patrick Carroll’s spatial design is intriguing and emphasises Claire and Solange’s tenuous grasp on reality. Whenever these characters leave the bedroom to go somewhere else in the script, the actors physically exit the space. Often, we are left to wait in silence for disconcerting periods of time before the action resumes. This heightens the tension within the play beautifully and makes us feel a very excellent kind of uncomfortable.

Although I certainly enjoyed this production of The Maids and appreciated the fantastic performances and design elements therein, I do feel that nothing was said beyond the script and I wasn’t left with much to take away.

Larger Than Life Written by Chris Rex Martin and Tainui Tukiwaho Directed by Tainui Tukiwaho Circa Theatre, 15th Jun Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

In small town Ngaruawahia, singing siblings E-Honda (Chris Rex Martin), Tahi (Shadrack Simi), and Rua (Brady Peeti) sneak out of their home and catch the wrong bus to Wellington. The boys, aged between 8 and 12 respectively, are on their way to open for legendary musician John Rowles. A pregnant sheep, The Topp Twins, Prince Tui Teka, and the Finn Brothers all prove delightful deterrents on their journey, but ultimately, they make it to Welly. What happens when they get there is another story.

The group, aptly named Larger Than Life, fluently integrate Te Reo Māori and English, song and speech, and direct address and roleplay to tell us this retrospective tale on their 2017 revival tour.

Larger Than Life was written, directed, and performed with such conviction and sincerity, I genuinely thought it was a true story. I suppose I should have realised that we had covered 60’s, 70’s, and 80’s rural New Zealand and the performers wouldn’t have even been alive back then. Ultimately, I was so absorbed in the show, so captivated and moved by what I was seeing and hearing (those voices!), that logistics didn’t occur to me.

This to me is the mark of a truly excellent production. They do say that logic and reason go out the window when love is involved, and not only did I love the show, the love that was poured into all aspects of it translated beautifully to the stage. I feel blessed to have witnessed Larger Than Life.

During his mihi, Tainui asked for feedback as to whether Larger Than Life pushed the boundaries enough. We all know about the despicable, discriminatory language used back when this play was set, and simply hearing it on stage isn’t enough. I think the show needs to say something about the racism it broaches – perhaps if we had seen the characters react to it, it would have had more of an impact.

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales (PG) 129 Mins ★ ★ Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

What Pirates of the Caribbean movie are we up to now? Yes, they’re still making them; this is the fifth entry into the Pirates canon, and is largely an unwieldy and unwelcome addition to the series.

Dead Men Tell No Tales at least sticks to one Pirates tradition closely: a vague and uneven plot based on some kind of quest and a lot of mumbo-jumbo about sacred objects, vengeful ghosts, and old enemies. This one is about a holy trident, a magic compass, and Javier Bardem’s vengeful villain, the undead Captain Salazar.

Usually, the producers also throw enough money and beautiful people at the film to distract you. For example, the spark and magic that was found in the very first Pirates of the Caribbean film was found in the balance between Hollywood beauties Orlando Bloom and Keira Knightley’s love story, and Johnny Depp’s transformation into the camp, perpetually intoxicated pirate-genius Captain Jack Sparrow.

But in Dead Men Tell No Tales, the balance is off. The romance between Henry Turner (Brenton Thwaites), the son of Bloom and Knightley’s characters, and orphan girl Carina Smyth (Kaya Scodelario) is bereft of chemistry. And there is far, far too much Jack Sparrow. It’s like the performance that once garnered Depp’s first nomination for the Best Actor Oscar is now so iconic that it’s started parodying itself. I found myself wishing for the film to return to the boring lovers, so at least it would come to a less meandering, if slightly duller, conclusion.

There are, however, some moments that provide a lift and show some of the old Pirates charm. There is a Paul McCartney cameo that is not only not terrible, but actually provided some of the most genuine laughter of the film. Of all people, Paul McCartney? We can only assume he accepted the role for his grandchildren.

In the end, Dead Men Tells No Tales is a plodding, middling, mediocre franchise entry that despite being the shortest entry in the Pirates series, only succeeds in feeling like the longest.

Wonder Woman (M) 141 Mins ★ ★ ★ ★ Reviewed by Annabella Gamboni

Wonder Woman, just like the character herself, has the weight of the world on its shoulders. As the biggest superhero film starring a female hero in years, Wonder Woman fans around the world braced themselves for a flop that would mean a likely end to any more super-women on our screens in the near future.

But this film is not a flop; it’s a triumph. It tells the story of Wonder Woman, whose origins take liberally from Greco-Roman myth. As a girl, Diana (Gal Godot) trains to be a lethal female warrior on the mystically-protected Amazonian island of Themyscira, before being forced to leave and save humanity from the wrecking balls that are World War I and Aries, the god of war.

Unlike Diana, I wish we could have stayed in Themyscira a little longer before leaving to London, as its world seemed rich and a little under-explored, despite the hasty exposition the film does via a child’s bedtime story. Its sets and costumes were breath-taking, not to mention the always show-stopping Robyn Wright (of House of Cards fame) as an Amazonian general.

The best parts of the film come from its women. Israeli newcomer Godot lends both a tender girlishness and a passionate strength to our Wonder Woman that is equal parts compelling and complex. Her belief that every human life is precious was an extremely endearing love letter to humanity, and Diana’s spirit was rightly at the core of the story. Better yet, director Patty Jenkins adjusts her lens to focus on Diana’s dynamic strength and power, which is an immensely refreshing change to the hypersexualised female bodies in many comic franchises.

Without spoiling too much, the cold intellectual fury of the film’s villain fell a bit short of what he was meant to be representing as Aries. He lacked an angry menace that any good war god should have – as wars are fought with blood on the battlefield, not just thought up in boardrooms.

Three Days in the Country Written by Patrick Marber Directed by Susan Wilson Running at Circa Theatre until 24th Jun Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Three Days in the Country is set in the mid-nineteenth century and follows the residents of Arkady’s country estate in Russia. Over the course of three days, members of the household and their guests experience the glorious, devastating effects of love in all its many forms.

Natalya (Bronwyn Turei) is the lady of the household. Though Natalya first appears mercurial and restless, one gets the impression that prior to hiring handsome young Belyaev (Simon Leary) as a tutor for her son Kolya (a delightful and committed performance from our young star Alex Buyck), she lived out her days in a relatively reserved fashion. I can imagine Natalya to have held on to her resentments throughout the years, her frustration building in such a way that when we enter the story, we witness the proverbial straw that breaks the camel’s back. This is testament to Turei’s understanding of her character. Turei’s performance is three-dimensional, the depth and history she brings to Natalya a high point of this production. Indeed, each member of the cast displays this same expert craftsmanship.

To me the star of the show is Gavin Rutherford, who plays Natalya’s besotted friend and confidant Rakitin. Gavin’s portrayal of a vulnerable man who finds release in self-deprecation is as gut-wrenching as his witty one-liners are hilarious.

Whether you’ve been in love with a zesty tutor (Leary’s performance here is spirited yet genius; he’s more aware of his charm than he lets on) or not, you’ll find something within the text that resonates with you. Maybe you’ll remember the first loss you experienced as a child, or living in a waking dream after falling in love. Such is the evocative nature of Three Days in the Country. This is a beautiful tale told by a stellar cast of absolute professionals, set to stunning atmospheric music (Gareth Farr) with fantastic design elements that coexist in perfect balance.

Three Days in the Country is a sensory experience and a sensational delight.

Masaaki Suzuki & Juilliard 415 Presented by Chamber Music NZ Michael Fowler Centre, 30th May Reviewed by Emily Sharp

This concert and group is somewhat of the jewel in the crown of the season. Speaking from recollection of last year’s finale and the teasers we were given of the players and concerts to come, I remember the introduction of this one standing out the most. For those who aren’t aware, The Julliard School is one of (if not the number one) performing arts school in the world and Juilliard415 is the principal period instrument ensemble, founded in 2009. The ensemble tours nationwide.

One of the main things that stood out for me as a whole was the freshness of the pieces. What most people don’t realise, or don’t take into account when listening to classical music, is that the music itself is in fact centuries old. This isn’t an exaggeration, as the works from this concert are from the 17th century. What really fascinated me about the conductor, Masaaki Suzuki, was that not only did he and Juilliard415 resurrect Bach’s pieces – he showed us the true vivacity and glory of how it would have sounded fresh off Bach’s own sheet music. Have you ever seen a watercolour from a similar period in time, in a book and then in front of you? The colours are more vivid, the subjects more alive than what you assumed from seeing them on the page. That is what Suzuki has done here; he has taken away the tissue paper and put our nose to the canvas.

A mention as well here to the soprano, Rebecca Farley, as she really blew away the audience and almost stole the show. We were treated to Ich habe gueng, her Recitative within which was utterly explosive. You could feel its power rows back.

Chamber Music New Zealand never fail to impress and keep us in awe of what and who is coming next. This was such an elated concert and will be difficult to top for most organisers, but from experience, not Chamber Music.

The Basement Tapes Written by Stella Reid, Jane Yonge, Thomas Lambert, and Oliver Morse Directed by Jane Yonge BATS Theatre, 30th May Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

A 20-something (Stella Reid) prepares her late Grandmother’s home for sale. The girl’s mother and father aren’t really in the picture and she doesn’t have any siblings, so she’s forced to go about the task alone. She seems to take this in her stride, twerking around the basement to hip hop bangers while sifting through her grandmother’s possessions. She orders pizza, she tries on fur coats, she does old word finder puzzles, and all seems well.

The Basement Tapes is an explosive work that delivers much of what you’d expect from this premise and much of what you wouldn’t. Emphasis on the latter ‘much’. I can’t give it away here, but it’s not all tea and scones, paisley patterns, and musty rugs. It’s a wild ride that throws you completely off guard.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen an audience behave as such a collective before. We gasped in unison, screamed (yes, screamed) simultaneously, held our breath as one, and chortled in chorus. On the chortling note, The Basement Tapes is funny, which you also wouldn’t really expect. Primarily though, it’s a disorientating one-woman show “that shakes one’s previously held beliefs or assumptions about the nature of reality.”

The above is the Urban Dictionary definition of a two-part word, beginning with ‘mind’, that is too rude to print here.

Throughout The Basement Tapes, sound, space, and lighting work together in perfect, exquisite harmony. Visionary moments include disconnected lamps illuminating (Jason Longstaff) and the jittery transfer of a recording from a small, tinny tape player to the main sound system (Thomas Lambert).

While watching the show, I had thought that Stella Reid’s (fantastic, insane, mind-blowing) performance peaked a little too soon. Why was she so alarmed by her grandmother’s voice upon hearing the first tape? Why was she being so dramatic? At the conclusion of The Basement Tapes, I withdrew this initial criticism. Her reaction was completely justified. You’ll just have to see the show to find out why.

DJ Trump Written, Directed, and Presented by Alexander Sparrow Cavern Club, 24th May Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Alexander Sparrow is an award-winning President Donald Trump impersonator.

I never made it to Sparrow’s original breakthrough show, The President. As much as I wanted to see it, I couldn’t bring myself to go once Trump was elected. It just felt a bit… morbid. I was legitimately looking forward to going out on a school night to poke fun at such a ridiculous character when I, like the rest of New Zealand, thought his candidacy was a comical farce and that he’d never make it. But then Donald J Trump actually became the President of the United States of America (wait, what?).

Those who have the same concerns as I did need not worry when it comes to DJ Trump. If you haven’t made it to one of Sparrow’s shows yet, because you, like me, are still hoping that someone is going to jump out of the White House and scream “haahahha, just kidding”, you should go see DJ Trump.

DJ Trump features all of what you’d expect from a Trump impersonation show and then a bit of what you wouldn’t. The President (eh?) is holding a rally. He stands at a podium and rants about Mexicans, women, money, and sex. But then he stands down and starts telling us about his childhood – his pointy-haired mother, his distant father, and his long-standing aspiration to become a world-famous hip-hop artist. And then he raps. Yes, really.

Alexander Sparrow strikes a delicate balance between realism and surrealism; parody and impersonation with an insane amount of panache and charisma. It’s dumbfounding how hilarious he is. And DJ Trump doesn’t hurt your soul too much, because even though it feels like the real President (pardon?) is standing right in front of you, the show is written in such a way that you can disassociate yourself from the harsh realities of our current state of affairs and just fully, joyfully engage in what you’re watching. Which is a very bloody good show.

Daughters of Heaven Written by Michelanne Forster Directed by Helen Mackenzie Gryphon Theatre, 17th May Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Daughters of Heaven tells the well-known New Zealand tale of Pauline Parker (Cathy-Ellen Paul) and Juliet Hulme (Michelle Keating), who bludgeoned Pauline’s mother Honora Mary Rieper (Ange Bickford) to death with half a brick in a stocking in 1954. The two girls were aged 16 and 15 at the time.

Stagecraft’s Daughters of Heaven features wonderful performances (particularly by Bickford and Boyes) and fantastic costume design (Mary Coffey), but requires a few things to take it to the next level. While the second half is dynamic and driven, the first stagnates at times. I believe this can be put down to three things: lighting, transitions, and physicality.

One lighting rig pointed directly at the audience, meaning that some moments of the show were, quite literally, blinding. In general, we were often illuminated. This prevented us from becoming fully immersed in the show. Illuminating the audience is usually a convention of theatre that breaks the fourth wall, and while Daughters of Heaven does feature direct address, I don’t feel interaction is the overarching purpose of the play.

I spoke to a fellow audience member during the interval, who summed it up perfectly when he said: “you should either fully commit to a transition, or pretend it isn’t happening.” The transitions in Daughters of Heaven seemed confused: the lighting dimmed only momentarily, sometimes flickering and sometimes reaching blackout. When blackouts did occur, the moments weren’t held long enough. A lot of furniture was moved unnecessarily and almost lethargically, creating lengthy transitions that slowed the pace of the piece.

I know kissing can be extremely awkward for cast members, but unfortunately, this translated to the stage. It is hard to swallow that two people are so madly in love that they would murder anyone who stood in their way when you cannot believe their affections are genuine. This is a real shame, because otherwise, Paul and Keating’s performances were fantastic.

With a few minor tweaks and adjustments, this could be a truly excellent work.

Firebird Presented by Orchestra Wellington Michael Fowler Centre, 13th May Reviewed by Emily Sharp

Followers of Orchestra Wellington will remember that the finale we left off with at the end of last year was the ‘final words’ of composers. We suitably began the 2017 season with the ‘first words’ of composers Beethoven and Stravinsky, as well as a commissioned piece by well-known New Zealand composer John Elmsly.

Neither too much nor too little can be said for Beethoven’s first symphony, but I am glad that Taddei chose to discuss the link between the students learning from the masters, as I’ve always found the influence and dedication to Beethoven’s own teachers to be transparent in Symphony No.1. Taddei referenced the composers within this concert whose first works were comparable to their own master’s styles; for example, Beethoven and his predominant teacher, Haydn. Symphony No.1 draws parallels to Haydn’s style but interestingly, Beethoven’s first Symphony exudes a brash ego reminding us of Mozart, although we recognise the whole architectural taste as distinctly Beethoven now. Taddei brings this all together perfectly and encompasses a seamless balance with the Orchestra.

Concerto for Violin and Orchestra was an enjoyable light touch from Elmsly. I specifically liked the third movement Chasing the River Sound; it was high paced and revitalising. This was an interesting embodiment of the figurative chase along the bank following the water itself, but also an erratic heartbeat within the chaser led by the percussion.

Russian composer Stravinsky handles traditional Russian dance impeccably in Firebird, this being in theory the epitome of Russian ballet. The ballet and story itself are of course based on a fairy tale. Taddei and the Orchestra’s emphasis on the mystical sensitivity emanating from the music was a particular delight.

Guest violinist Jun Hong Loh was the highlight of the concert for me. His many accolades, prestigious bearings, and awards should prepare you for his monumental skill but to witness him perform in person is indescribable. The name Niccolo Paganini springs to mind, associated rumours and all…

Olive Copperbottom Written and Performed by Penny Ashton Running at Circa Theatre until 27th May Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Olive Copperbottom is a one-woman, multi-character show. By multi, I mean over 10. Honestly, it’s insane.

Penny Ashton is our star, and though I cannot name each of her characters, I can give you the general gist of the storyline. As you may have guessed, the show tells the tale of Olive Copperbottom. After losing her mother at a very young age, Olive is forced to live in a horrid orphanage, where Mrs. Sourtart abuses the children, drinks a lot of gin, and, just in general, smells really bad. Olive and Edward are in love, but when a tiff with Sourtart turns – well… sour, Olive is forced to flee. She finds fame and a makeshift family within the theatre community, but her Russian co-star doesn’t like her very much. Probably because Olive is so kind, talented, and successful. I shan’t give much more away, but there’s also a locket, a ghost, a missing eye, a meatless pie, and a lot more gin involved.

The first thing I’d like to say is that this is very clever comedy. Historical references combine with topical ones to create a wonderful theatrical language I’ve not seen the likes of in a long time. I also don’t think I’ve ever seen one person work that hard on stage and believe I speak for the whole audience when I say that Ashton’s efforts absolutely paid off.

Ashton is a masterful actor, conjuring dozens of characters from the depths of her imagination and deftly displaying them to this doting audience. It’s important to note here that, though at times Ashton literally jumped from one side of the stage to the other in her attempt to embody four different people at once, I never once lost track of the plot, or indeed, who was speaking at what time. Plus, there’s singing! Yes, this is also a musical! Outstanding!

For a truly absorbing, electrically energetic, madly captivating hour, you must see Olive Copperbottom.

Kathryn Stott & NZSQ Presented by Chamber Music NZ Michael Fowler Centre, 8th May Reviewed by Emily Sharp

I thoroughly enjoy the NZSQ every time I see them play and feel truly privileged to see such visionaries perform. I liken it to watching your favourite actor onscreen, seeing them in new movies from time to time. The new co-lead here is Kathryn Stott, and she complements the NZSQ beautifully.

Our first piece is still, echoing by Gillian Whitehead, inspired by Gregory O’Brien’s poem Te Whanga Lagoon. The piece masters the repetition and rhythm of the book The Whale Years which the poem is in; static, yet with a flow which is mirrored by the echo effect the piano and quartet take from the poem. I felt that there were parallels between a life span and with the flow of water, the current through the lagoon and into the ocean. This was expressed by the lulls and calms paired with the erratic energy seemingly in a cycle of the highs and lows of life – the echoes again, as this motif even echoes itself – but ending with a climax and release of death: water into the ocean.

The second piece was Dutilleux’s Piano Sonata. This was well chosen, as it truly represents Dutilleux’s defiance to the sombre period in which he found himself to blossom as a composer, during France’s recovery from German occupation. Stott spoke briefly before her performance, mentioning she particularly enjoys the piece because it is so “full of colour”. She, in my opinion, brought in more hues to the spectrum than I have heard in any rendition of Dutilleux. Stott was utterly dynamic, but with a fluidity and grace that spoke with the piece.

The second half was solely Dvorak, Piano Quintet in A Major, op.81. Dvorak is particularly fun with his traditionalist dance score undertones and his strings are always divine. Resonant but not overpowering on the piano, Stott masters the conversational pace of the piece and again, with such fluidity. Dvorak really was a visionary of his time; he knew his craft impeccably well, and Chamber Music New Zealand matched such a piece with world renowned players – awe inspiring.

Aotearoa Plus Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Hamish McKeich Michael Fowler Centre, 5th May Reviewed by Jennie Jones and Tamsin Evans

On paper, this programme lacked appeal to your reviewers. However, any illusions of modern music being generally more difficult to engage with than time-honoured classics were dispelled by the performance on the night and memories of the concert for several days afterward.

The opening piece, Mémoriale (... explosante-fixe... Originel) by the late Pierre Boulez was a dazzling yet subtle example of modern sound interspersed with chamber music and the delicate playing of the NZSO's own Principal Flautist Bridget Douglas.

The most recent work on the programme was the world premiere of Gareth Farr's Cello Concerto (Chemin des Dames.) In a brief pre-performance conversation, Farr spoke of the benefit of having been able to collaborate with the soloist, Sébastien Hurtaud, while composing the concerto. His deeper understanding of the cello's sound and potential were used effectively. What he produced was a very evocative and visual piece, mentally casting up the many images we have become more familiar with during this centennial commemoration of the First World War.

Hurtaud's playing was dynamic, both forceful and light, and shone through brilliantly, whether he was given clear space or was playing against the orchestra. The concerto started quietly and built through an ardent lamentation towards a final movement that effectively realised all the sound, fury, and confusion of the battlefield.

The second half was Naïve and Sentimental Music by John Adams. Practically every member of the NZSO (plus a few extras) must have taken the stage to form an orchestra at least a hundred strong. A number of musical themes are heard throughout the piece, presenting the opportunity for soloists such as the bassoon to distinguish themselves. The first and third (final) movements were lively, complex pieces of harmony and rhythm sitting each side of the much quieter middle section. McKeich held the orchestra in check and clearly demanded a level of precision that brought each movement to an end perfect in itself.

Chichester Psalms Presented by Orpheus Choir St Paul’s Cathedral, 29th April Reviewed by Emily Sharp

What an exuberant concert brought to us by the Orpheus Choir, they never cease to amaze. Personally, I had been looking forward to this concert for quite some time, specifically the second half – the Chichester Psalms themselves. Having spent the better half of my childhood in Chichester, England, I’ve had the honour of visiting the magnificent cathedral many, many times. Being given a chance to relive this, even for a brief moment in St Paul’s Cathedral in Wellington, was extremely special.

Thomas Gaynor was on the choir organ throughout. Sadly, the Cathedral organ was damaged in the recent quake, not that that seemed to make a difference to the performance; now I am just more excited to see him play at St Mary’s Cathedral on the Maxwell Fernie! I really felt Gaynor had amity with the pieces played and it was a particularly nice touch to have him play Part 4 of Seven Last Words from the Cross alone, without the choir.

In Seven Last Words from the Cross, James MacMillian shows a very true and powerful exaltation of the “final words of Christ”. For me, the choir and Gaynor made me experience the piece in a very different light, really throwing juxtaposition on The Kubler-Ross model of the five stages of grief. The Cathedral architecture itself added to some of the abstract themes of the lament, giving the audience a mixture of delay in sound and echo effects and yet surrounding the listeners in the embrace of the music.

After a much-needed interval from the heaviness of MacMillan, we heard what I had been waiting for: Chichester Psalms by Leonard Bernstein. Cheerful, joyful, and triumphant, these pieces exude praise and love, entwined with peaking passion but balanced with soothing peace. Gaynor was racing on the organ and the choir was happy to keep up. These two pieces presented a huge contrast between the two halves, both representing different sides of the interpretation of Christianity as a faith. Music director Brent Stewart couldn’t have produced a finer concert. Again, I’m looking forward to the next one!

Mr and Mrs Alexander: Sideshows & Psychics Written by Lizzie Tollemache and David Ladderman Directed by Mike Friend Running at Circa Theatre until 6th May Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Mr and Mrs Alexander: Sideshows & Psychics is a metatheatrical magic show that follows both married couple Lizzie Tollemache and David Ladderman and their on-stage personas: Victorian showbiz wizzes Mr and Mrs Alexander. The performers combine storytelling with illusion and mentalism, presenting historical insight into the lives of 19th century carnival performers as well as real live magic tricks.

During the show, we see juggling, hypnotism, spoon bending, an expanding head, a near death experience, and telepathic communication. Tollemache and Ladderman are charismatic masters of these tricks, never once dropping the act.

Unfortunately, thanks to the infamous US TV series Penn & Teller: Bulls**t!, I wasn’t roped in by any of the illusions featured on stage. This is a mighty shame and certainly not the fault of these wonderful performers. Thankfully, even if you don’t believe in the supernatural or you’re a complete sceptic, there’s still something in Mr and Mrs Alexander: Sideshows & Psychics for you.

The costumes are vibrant and alluring, transporting the audience to 1888 and transforming the sparse set around them. The story is fascinating and well told – for this alone I’d recommend your attendance. And even if you know how a trick is done, it’s still a delight to see it done so well.

The show features a fair amount of audience interaction, and while most members were happy to comply, one was not. When Ladderman realised this, he quickly and courteously moved on. However, Tollemache subsequently said that if you don’t come up on stage when called, you’ll “come across as a bit of a c*ck”. The audience member in question did not return after the interval. Whether or not this statement was directed at this particular individual, I felt it was rather harsh – you don’t know why someone may be uncomfortable participating in a stage show and should therefore treat all spectators with respect.

Beauty and the Beast (PG) 129 mins ★ ★ ★ ★ ½ Reviewed by Emily Sharp

Admittedly I was a bit late to see this movie, having somewhat quietly scorned it. But I was finally won over after hearing Ian McKellen talk about how much fun he had making it, and it was worth it!

For those who call it a remake of the original Disney movie, this is a bit of an understatement. As soon as the opening credits started, there I was sitting cross legged on the carpet over 20 years ago having just popped the VHS tape in for the hundredth time that week. It is almost an exact replica, scene for scene, except with more adult humour and nuance.

Cinematically it was incredible, and I found it interesting to note that while all the castle’s staff were CGI animated, the Beast himself (Dan Stevens) was “in a suit… on stilts”. You always have that vision of Andy Serkis in a green suit whenever they do full body shot CGI acting, so it was good to know Emma Watson wasn’t dancing around with that.

Something must be said about the cast though; I honestly felt that everyone was so perfect. You listen to the original Mrs Potts (Angela Lansbury) compared to now (Emma Thompson), and it could be the same person. And who would have thought of Ewan McGregor as Lumière?? My personal favourite was Gaston (Luke Evans) as he was so spot on, though my only criticism is that they could have made him bulk up for the role a little more. Having got almost everything else so right, it didn’t really make sense not to have Gaston at least roughly the size of a barge. This really is being particularly critical though, as Evans fully did the character justice.

Keen observers will note that the writers have incorporated a little more from the original story. For example, the rose that Belle’s father picks being white was a particularly nice touch. I think as far as we have come with Disney live remakes, this one really holds the ticket.

The Hell Season of Hand to God Written by Robert Askins Directed by Lyndee-Jane Rutherford Running at Circa Theatre until 20th May Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

This show features puppets, but it is not a puppet show and it is definitely not for children. This review is not for children either, so avert your eyes, little ones.

Hand To God follows adolescent Jason (Tom Clarke) and his mother Margery (Amy Tarleton), a “good Christian woman” who has recently lost her husband to heart disease. Struggling to cope with the loss of his father, Jason finds solace in his puppet Tyrone. Tyrone is a green-skinned, red-haired, filthy badass – the id to Jason’s ego, if you will. While Jason tries to uphold the values instilled by his mother and the church, and particularly, to treat his love interest Jessica (Hannah Banks) with respect, Tyrone runs rampant, biting off ears and humping other puppets with gusto.

Meanwhile, Margery is fending off two men – Pastor Greg (Peter Hambleton), and teenager Timothy (Jack Buchanan), whose low-riding jeans function as more than just a fashion statement.

Although Hand to God is a side-splitting riot, there’s a lot going on beneath the surface. Its characters are well developed and its storyline complex, with satisfying climaxes (pun intended) in all the right places. When you exit the show and you’re done laughing, which should take a few hours, you’ll still be left with things to think about and a few vivid images that may or may not have burned your eyes and made you scream with mirth.

This production is beyond outstanding, each of its elements world class. Buchanan’s shameless vulgarity, Tarleton’s hysterical meltdown, Banks’ ingenious idea, Clarke’s gut-wrenching vulnerability, and Hambleton’s unexpected heroics are all stand out moments and portrayals. These performances have soared so far past the top tier of acting, they’ve landed somewhere in the stratosphere. Rutherford’s direction is flawless and cohesive, while Ian Harman’s revolving set design is absolutely brilliant.

This is the naughtiest, most sensational, and best comedy I have seen in a very long time. Go. See. It. Now.

Wilfrid Gordon McDonald Partridge Stage adaptation by Peter Wilson and Kenneth King Directed by Lyndee-Jane Rutherford Presented by Little Dog Barking Theatre Company BATS Theatre, 22nd Apr Reviewed by Susan Barker

This production uses rod puppets to create a stage version of the much-loved children’s story Wilfrid Gordon McDonald Partridge by Mem Fox.

Although the book is quite short, the play significantly extends the narrative. An older Wilfrid Gordon McDonald Partridge (the only human character) sets the scene, and explains that when he was a child he lived next door to a nursing home. We then meet the young Wilfrid (in puppet form) and the “funny old people” that he would chat with regularly. We are taken through the memories of Mrs Jordan, who plays the organ and relates her passion for music; Mr Hosking, who tells scary stories and is a former librarian; Mrs Mitchell, who walks with a stick and was once a dancer; and Mr Drysdale, a former farmer who has a voice like a giant and misses his sheep dog.

In between these stories, a confused elderly woman wanders about with a suitcase. This is, of course, Miss Nancy Alison Delacourt Cooper. We then get to the storyline of the book: Wilfrid is quite fond of Miss Nancy because they both have four names, and he then successfully helps her remember some of her past with objects he gives her.

This production has all the makings of being brilliant (and for adults, it is), but I found it was hit-and-miss with the audience. Many of the younger children were distracted. In my own camp, my son, who is familiar with the book, was anxious for the story to progress. Younger children may not be old enough to see the play through to the end, which unfortunately means they might miss the larger concepts of memory and the value of relationships between the young and old. The beauty of the book is that it is short enough to hold a young child’s attention, but also contains meaningful themes.

Paper Shaper Devised by Peter Wilson and Tim Denton Directed by Peter Wilson Presented by Little Dog Barking Theatre Company BATS Theatre, 21st Apr Reviewed by Susan Barker

Paper Shaper is a gentle, lovely story of a little man who lives in picture form on the side of a rubbish bin. When no one is around, he comes to life and uses the paper tossed in the bin to create birds, flowers, butterflies, and a sun – essentially, a whole world.

The play takes place in a park with the set consisting of a rubbish bin, trees, and a park bench. The paper shaper quickly endears himself to the audience, constructing magnificent paper creations, comically struggling with the heat of his self-designed sun, and dealing with the aftermath of the rain clouds he made as a solution.

The production is advertised as “The antithesis of big brand kids’ entertainment such as Hi-5 or the Wiggles”. This could not be more accurate. There were no flashing images, thumping music, or over the top theatrics. The children are drawn in gently and carefully, making this production perfect for under-5s. Every movement is gradual so that the children have no problem keeping up. I have to say, as an adult, it forced me (in a good way) to just slow down and enjoy – I think parents, along with children, can get addicted to fast-paced entertainment.

The crux of the story begins when an older man comes to the park to enjoy a picnic and has his plastic bottle and Styrofoam container rejected (or rather ejected) by the paper shaper. Although the encounter is initially frustrating, by the end of the play they form a friendship.

Paper Shaper maintained a wonderful balance of giving the children a storyline they could follow, while leaving enough room for them to use their own imaginations. I think the toddler seated behind me summed up the play for most of the audience when he stood up at the end and proclaimed, “That was amazing!”

The Lego Batman Movie (PG) 104 minutes ★ ★ ★ Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

When the first Lego Movie came out in 2014, I wasn’t particularly interested in seeing it as I thought it was just for kids. I can’t remember why I did see it in the end – I think there’s a chance I was dragged to a screening by a small child – but I remember how much I loved it. Yes, it was a kid’s movie, but there was so much in it for adults. Think The Simpsons, which you never knew was filled with dirty jokes until you saw it when you were much older. The Lego Movie was hilarious, innovative, and enjoyable for all ages. Batman was a stand-out character too, so when I found out about The Lego Batman Movie, I was dying to go.

The Lego Batman Movie charts Bruce Wayne’s (Will Arnett’s) daily routine: reheating lobster in the microwave, chilling out in the Batcave with his best friend Computer (Siri), playing dress up with Alfred (Ralph Fiennes), and of course, fighting crime. In the film, Batman takes on the usual suspects: Joker (Zach Galifianakis) and the like, and the not-so-usual – Voldemort (Eddie Izzard) and Sauron (Jemaine Clement), to name a few. There’s a bit of unrequited bromance going on, as Joker wants to be Batman’s ‘worst enemy’, but Batman’s too flaky for that relationship status. Oh, and there’s Bruce Wayne’s inadvertent adoption of a young orphan voiced by Michael Cera.

The plot is chock-a-block, yet the film manages to go from high-octane action scenes to close-up slow-mo sob shots and back again without much else in between. Despite everything that happens, I could use five statements to sum up The Lego Batman Movie. “Batman’s got no friends but pretends it doesn’t matter.” “Batman fights people, punches things.” “Batman should probably try to make friends.” “Batman fights people, punches things.” “Batman makes friends. Yay.”

Perhaps I’m being a bit harsh, as ultimately, this is a kid’s movie. I just felt that it paled in comparison to the first Lego Movie and expected more.

Play On! Written by Rick Abbot Directed by Neil Haydon Gryphon Theatre, 5th Apr Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

With opening night looming, an amateur theatre company rehearses a classic whodunit play. Regrettably, they’re a little behind schedule. Half the set is missing (including a vital couch), the sound effects leave a lot to be desired, and the cast isn’t off-book yet.

The troupe’s Director Gerry (Steve Bell) is understandably a little anxious about this, while Stage Manager Aggie (Rosie Gallen) seems to have gracefully accepted her fate. Meanwhile, passive-aggressive Stage Technician Louise (Annette Cochran) responds by picking up her hammer at the most inopportune times.

However, nobody is at fault but the playwright – Phyllis Montague (hilariously enacted by Sue Reeves), who really should have submitted her final script at least three weeks ago.

This Wellington Repertory Theatre production of Play On! is charming and delightful, with an in-sync cast demonstrating the concerted effort they have poured into their performance. This play is no mean feat: actors must play characters who play actors who get the lines wrong, but they need to learn multiple incorrect versions of the correct line as well as the correct line itself in order to drive the plot forward. Absolute kudos to this cast, and indeed, the crew, who played the correct incorrect sound effect and correctly placed the incorrect prop perfectly.

I feel that the script itself is underdeveloped. During opening night, the playwright walks out three times, because, as you can imagine, everything that could possibly go wrong does. Perhaps the cast of Murder Most Foul could have performed perfectly after Phyliss walked out, but fumbled over their lines the minute she returned. The relationships between members of the theatre company too are underexplored, with hints of romance lingering unsatisfactorily.

Wellington Repertory Theatre have here proved that hard work, drive, and talent can transform an average script. Stand out actors include Susannah Donovan and Josh Kingsford, although each cast member brings their own unique merits and quirks to the table. Overall, this is a highly entertaining and polished production.

I am Tasha Fierce Written by Rose Kirkup BATS Theatre, 28th Mar Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

The similarities between Upper Hutt-onian Tasha and her role model, Beyoncé, are striking. Both have mums called Tina. Both have best friends whose names start with K. And Tasha’s name even rhymes with Bey’s alter-ego, Sasha.

In I am Tasha Fierce, Tasha (Rose Kirkup) delivers the story of her life so far from a bathtub. She is fully clothed and submerged centre stage, dripping wet and surrounded by pink everything: towels, drink bottles, shampoo bottles, and even a sparkly Book of Bey, her source of inspiration when times get tough. The bathtub is subtly lit (by Lucie Camp) in soft, pastel hues. Rarely does the state change, and rarely too, does Tasha get out of her bath. When she does, everything changes, and we’re treated to pounding karaoke and rainbow strobe lighting as Tasha demonstrates her stellar dance moves to this doting audience.

Tasha grew up in the Hutt, and aside from her best friend Kasey, her uncle Vinnie, her aunty Linda, and her feral mum, she doesn’t really have anyone special in her life. Except, of course, for Beyoncé.

When Tasha loses her real-life best friend after a familial spat, she moves to Welly, because according to Bey’s 10 commandments, “you must always keep progressing.” In the capital, she goes to the gym, visits Mish Mosh on the regular, and works in an accounting firm as a receptionist. She seems to be doing ok until Kasey walks back into her life and forces her to remove all Beyoncé memorabilia from her desk. This even includes Tasha’s Beyoncé mousepad. #sonotcool.

While hilarious and outrageously fun, I am Tasha Fierce is surprisingly touching. Kirkup elicits sympathy and affection from the audience without explicitly portraying a character that needs it. She conveys Tasha’s loneliness with expertise, crafting both her dialogue and delivery to imply a profound sadness beneath each line. Plus, she can bust a mean rhyme.

I am Tasha Fierce is a well crafted story, told with flair and a very unique panache.

Twenty One Pilots Emotional Roadshow World Tour TSB Bank Arena, 24th Mar Reviewed by Sarah Collins

With entertainment and surprises around every corner, the Twenty One Pilots concert showcased pure talent. I arrived with a friend of mine who, believe it or not, had never attended a concert in her life. In her words, the evening was “wowzers.”

There was such a diversity of ages present, some as young as six years old. Mister six was sitting next to me with his earmuffs on, staring out at the sold-out crowd of 3,000 fans, most of whom were wearing the trademark red and black colours of Twenty One Pilots.

The interaction between the audience and Twenty One Pilots was mind-blowing. The band went from performing onstage to lead vocalist Tyler Joseph appearing in the seating stands like magic. If that wasn't enough, they also had another disappearing act and ended up playing in the middle of the standing crowd. At one point, percussionist and drummer Josh Dun enjoyed some old-fashioned crowd surfing with a twist; he had the crowd hold his drums and a platform for him to stand and perform on.

Josh later performed an amazing drum solo, battling against what fans say is his own "blurry face" (alter ego) on screen until his head exploded. The action didn't stop there though – Tyler then entered into a blown-up Zorb ball and proceeded to roll around on the crowd of standing fans.

Thousands of people sang along to a heartfelt cover of Elvis’ Can’t Help Falling in Love, with phone lights flickering across the arena. Stressed Out, Heathens and Lane Boy were among some of my other personal favourites.

Twenty One Pilots are not only amazing performers; they are also musically gifted, playing several different instruments such as piano, tambourine, drums, bass, trumpet, and ukulele. The fact they entertained and back flipped just as well as they sang and played was phenomenal.

Having seen over thirty-five concerts in my life so far, I can say with complete honesty that this one takes the cake and has been my favourite of all time.

Adele Mt Smart Stadium, 25th Mar Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

“Have you come to have a good time?” yells Adele encouragingly, spurring us on. Her 50,000 fans scream ecstatically in response. “Well, good luck. You’re in for two hours of misery while I sing about my ex-boyfriends.”

Misery, this concert was not. The legendary songstress has us in hysterics from the get-go with her self-deprecating humour and charm. She is insanely down to earth, interspersing incredible renditions of her songs with playful banter and jibes. At one point, she even picks her nose, citing Auckland’s climate as booger-inducing madness.

The first line of the concert is a sing-song “Hello”, and we all know what’s coming. We’ve been fixated on a stunning projection of those iconic eyes since 5:30pm, and it’s now 8pm. When the eyes open and the lights dim down, the crowd goes absolutely, incomparably wild.

Adele is in the round. Above the stage is a square screen, projecting live footage of her performance as well as beautifully curated snippets of her music videos to each corner of the audience.

“Before we get into it, I want to do something really incredible for you”, says Adele, as a Māori kapa haka group marches on stage to perform a waiata for her. It’s a gesture of respect and welcome from both sides that makes me feel proud to be a Kiwi.

From there, Adele performs a balance of hit songs from her albums 19, 21, and 25. We’re allowed a glimpse into the inspiration behind the songs, with one story about the making of Skyfall – punctuated with that trademark cackle – proving totally hilarious. When We Were Young is a tear-jerker, Rolling in the Deep impassioned and fiery (and fireworkey), and Someone Like You a phenomenal finale. The crowd is instructed to sing along with this one and we rise to the challenge, screaming ourselves hoarse with glee.

I’m in awe of Adele the whole evening. Such is her talent that more than once, I catch myself thinking she must be lip syncing. She’s not though; she’s just that good.

Elgar & Strauss Presented by the NZSO Conducted by Edo de Waart Michael Fowler Centre, 25 March Reviewed by Abigail McKoy and Judy McKoy

This, the first concert of the 2017 subscription series, attracted a near capacity audience to a programme in which the NZSO gave us a taste of what is to come in its 70th year.

Concert-goers were well settled in with Mendelssohn’s enduring Hebrides Overture (Fingal’s Cave) which served to introduce and complement the musical sentiments about the natural world evoked in the Elgar & Strauss pieces around which the evening was devised. Warm strings, brass and wind led us on a pleasing, evocative musical adventure and back again in a sensitive rendition of this romantic work.

Edward Elgar’s popular song cycle Sea Pictures for voice and orchestra brought a different energy to the programme. Each of the five poems set to music in this work touched on the vagaries of life, death and beyond, all the while accompanied by a luxurious orchestral score with its shifting harmonies and emerging translucent melodies. The watery images were certainly there, and the stunning performance by the renowned Mezzo Soprano Michelle DeYoung brought this colourful work to a very appreciative audience.

The NZSO never fails to please, and the pièce de resistance of the evening followed the interval. The words ‘visual symphony’ came to mind as the audience was greeted with a much enlarged orchestra – bountiful brass and wind sections, two harps, an organ, and “watch this space” additions of wind machines to the line-up on stage. Richard Strauss wrote Eine Alpensinfonie (An Alpine Symphony) as a man who had a deep love of adventures in the Bavarian Alps. This work was of truly large proportions and a highly visual and sensory experience. All the orchestral forces were unleashed as we were treated to an alpine journey which mirrored life’s ups and downs.

Musical conversations between instruments, majestic soaring passages, inviting melodies and all the forces of nature unleashed made this a fitting end to a thoroughly memorable evening.

Don Henley TSB Bank Arena, 25th Mar Reviewed by Susan Barker

Jewel opened the concert and seemed aware that she was playing to a Henley crowd; asking early on through the lines of one of her songs if the audience “loved her”. Throughout the performance she was playful and endearing, even stopping mid-tune to say that she wasn’t in the mood for the song and taking a request from the audience. By the end of her set she had certainly attained the love she sought from Wellington, although her impressive vocal range, stripped back versions of her hit songs, and poignant delivery would have accomplished this in itself.

Don Henley needs no introduction. The former Eagle is one of America’s greatest singer-songwriters. Henley, along with a 15-piece band, delivered a show that was meticulously choreographed and flawless musically.

The show opened with the Eagles song 7 Bridges Road. Henley went on to play almost all of his solo hits, including Boys of Summer, Dirty Laundry, New York Minute, and The Heart of the Matter. From the Eagles catalogue, Henley performed One of These Nights, Witchy Woman, and a touching tribute to the recently passed Glenn Frey (co-founder of The Eagles, and Henley’s song-writing partner) that included Wasted Time and Desperado. To the crowd’s delight, there was a riveting performance of Hotel California.

The music alone was enough to make the night incredible, but Henley went a step further. His interaction with the crowd was intimate and he clearly has a gift for story-telling. He made a few political comments, saying that everything was a mess back home and the world had gone bat sh*t crazy, but went on to give us historical context behind many of the songs. From childhood memories to love interests, he shared the inspiration behind musical masterpieces. He was comical at times, poking fun at his own weight, and at others deeply reflective. He related all of this with a humble demeanour, and we were all drawn into the intimate conversation – the concert closed after two encores and the crowd cheering for more.

Un Roi Arthur Presented by Les Grooms The Opera House, 22nd Mar Reviewed by Susan Barker

Un Roi Arthur is presented by Les Grooms and is part of Capital E’s National Arts Festival. The French group bring a blend of many genres to the stage including theatre, orchestra, opera, pantomime, and improv. They have performed for audiences in 34 countries across five continents; the National Arts Festival was the New Zealand premiere of Un Roi Arthur.

The story, guided by eight brass musicians and two opera singers, takes Henry Purcell's King Arthur and renders it comical, outrageous, bizarre, and at times fantastically ridiculous.

At the beginning of the performance we are informed that this is not King Arthur as we know it. There is no holy grail, no Guinevere, etc. We were instructed to cheer King Arthur and boo the Saxton King – the children were more than happy to comply.

The heroic quest begins with a very cheeky brass band leading the way. We meet King Arthur who falls asleep during the preparations for war and his blind and very clumsy love interest, who of course is the Saxton King’s as well. The story continues and features everything from magic tricks and human sacrifice musical chairs, to mock silent film and slapstick pantomime.

Much of the humour in the play, though highly entertaining for the adults, was possibly a bit too subtle to hold the children’s attention. The play is recommended for ages 7-14. My 7 and 10 year olds had trouble following what was going on and most of it went over their heads. I think ultimately, this would be a brilliant production for adults and those over 12.

However, Un Roi Arthur did an amazing job of making opera palatable for a younger crowd. I am sure there are some very mature youngsters that relish the form, but in my experience, opera is not something the younger crowd generally seek out. Mixing ridiculousness with operatic interludes made it immensely enjoyable, and that is a great thing in itself!

L’Arpeggiata Chamber Music New Zealand Michael Fowler Centre, 18th Mar Reviewed by Emily Sharp

With promises of a Baroque and Jazz entwined flavoured season, I had been waiting patiently with bursting curiosity and excitement – like many others – for Chamber Music’s 2017 season to begin. Pre show, the buzz from the audience reflected my thoughts and I noted that the centre was considerably fuller.

Christina Pluhar and L’Arpeggiata need no introduction, nor warming up as they launched into their first piece with no hesitation and we were immediately blown away. A point of interest is of course the theorbo. One of my earliest memories of this glorious instrument is being in the music section of a London museum, looking at the collection of the Lute family and pressing the buttons of the recordings. To see, feel, and listen to one being played by a master was an unbelievable experience.

Leading in with a soft but jaunty piece, Ciaccona, we’re given a smooth Venetian sound which continues with similar themes craftily woven throughout. The majority of this programme was of course Purcell’s Orpheus Brittanicus, with two main counterparts of Midsummer Night’s Dream and Dido and Aeneas.

You could see and hear Dido’s fall – in giving her love and soul to Aeneas – in Scheen’s performance. Her lament was real, her portrayal more than a depiction; she was Dido as she sang. Queen of Carthage cities trembled before her, yet she was brought to her knees and subsequently her deathbed by a passing protagonist. None of this was missed in the ode.

The audience was unquestionably charmed by Capezzuto, who is an absolute stand out of an alto. Point me in his next performance’s direction please, as I do not think I will hear any like him again. I was surprised by the charisma and magnetic allure of the players. I thought that perhaps it would be lost on the audience, but I was proved wrong. They received a standing ovation – which I joined – and a double encore. Sherwin’s freestyle rap and Saprychev’s solo performances are now legend within the community.

Yellow Face Written by David Henry Hwang Directed by Cassandra Tse Whitireia Performance Centre, 14th Mar, Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

David Henry Hwang’s Yellow Face was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, and it’s easy to see why. As much as I’m tempted to say “it’s not easy to see why it didn’t win”, I do not wish to disparage the play that did. So, I respectfully withdraw that statement I didn’t make back there. What I will say is Yellow Face is outstanding and it should still be winning every award known to man today.

Yellow Face is a semi-autobiographical play which features the playwright (David Henry Hwang, played by Alex Rabina) as the protagonist. After winning a Tony Award for M Butterfly, Hwang stages his next work, Face Value on Broadway with a Caucasian man (Marcus G. Dahlman, played by James Cain) in the leading role. Marcus’ character is meant to dress up in ‘white face’ to protest the use of ‘yellow face’ in Miss Saigon. Yellow face itself refers to the use of stereotyping, prosthetics, and makeup by typically white actors to play Asian roles in film or theatre.

Although Marcus’ appointment to the role is mostly the result of political correctness and misunderstanding, things soon spiral out of control, with the façade continuing long after the curtains have closed.

Yellow Face explores racism and the ugly alliance between politics and the media with unrivalled eloquence. Unfortunately, confoundingly, it is extremely relevant today.

Put this in the hands of Tse and her exceptional team and you have golden dynamite that’s ready to explode on the world stage. This production features brilliant performances, excellent ensemble work, harmonious design elements, and a whopping amount of ingenuity and imagination. In the same breath, it is unflinching yet tender; gritty yet playful; poignant yet hilarious.

I really regret not standing during the thunderous applause. I honestly think I was too dumbfounded to move, but I want you all to know that, by golly, Red Scare Theatre Company deserves 1,000 standing ovations for this work.

Pixies Head Carrier World Tour TSB Bank Arena, 10th Mar Reviewed by Sarah Collins

When given the chance to review the Pixies concert, to be quite honest the name didn't ring a bell. That was until I listened to their album online and it all came flooding back. I then heard that many bands in the 80s where inspired by Pixies: Nirvana, Radiohead, The Stokes, Blur, Weezer... It was then that I became excited at the opportunity to see Pixies perform live.

Upon entering, I was overwhelmed by the crowd. It was like a swarm: a full house of forty-year-olds-plus ready for what was about to hit the stage.

It was obvious at the start that the Pixies didn't need frills, small talk, or introductions; they had captivated the crowd’s attention from beginning to end. Although it took a few sets to warm up, there where many crowd pleasers people swayed to. Where Is My Mind caused people to jump for joy, and when Here Comes Your Man was performed, the audience lit up. Most seated were now standing at this stage, everyone around me waving their arms around to the music. The energy of the arena was sky high.

Pixies sounded amazing. At one point, one of the guitarists played his instrument with a drum stick as a violin. The crowd was in awe of his solo performance.

The crowd welcomed new band member Zwan Lenchantin with open arms. Zwan sang beautifully and led a solo from one of Pixies latest albums, Head Carrier, which is also the name of a song within the album. This was a song dedicated to the original band member, Kim Deal.

As the concert was nearing its end, I had a feeling of wanting it not to end so soon. I could have listened to Pixies all night. This concert was a night to remember, full of surprises and amazing instrumentals and vocals. If given the chance, I would be grateful to see them perform again.

Sticks Stones Broken Bones Written and Directed by Jeff Achtem Performed by Tim Sneddon Running at Hannah Playhouse until 25th Mar Reviewed by Susan Barker

Stick Stones Broken Bones is a children’s production (for ages 3 to 14) and is presented as part of Capital E National Arts Festival. The production combines shadow puppetry and physical theatre, giving children the inside track on how shadow puppets (and intricate ones at that) come to life. Over the course of 50 minutes, Sneddon constructs puppets with everyday objects, including his own shoes, and then uses them in front of a shadow screen playing out mini narratives. The narratives include things like flying chickens, a brain transplant, and fighting ninjas.

During the show, Sneddon interacts with the children only in gestures, sounds, and semi-decipherable nonsense language. It takes a minute for the children to adjust, as children are ultimately accustomed to having things explained to them thoroughly, but after a few minutes they are right on board, drawn into Sneddon’s zany world.

As a one-man performance, you have to hand it to Sneddon for captivating an audience of children, and not just children with their parents; the show I reviewed was a performance for a school group. He keeps the energy high, has the children anticipating his next move, and at times puts them on edge a little, utilising an eccentric, off-kilter style. I think that is one of the things Capital E does very well, choosing theatre that surprises children, which in turn moves them out of their comfort zones and opens their minds to something beyond the traditional narrative.

The one negative thing I will say is some parts of the show can be a little scary for younger children, particularly the brain transplant scene – it is quite dark. My youngest son, who is five, was very frightened and asked to leave, but stuck it out. Thankfully, a rather comical scene followed and he laughed vigorously during the rest of the show – perhaps this is a performance that is better suited for over 6’s.

Summer Pops with the Modern Māori Quartet Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Hamish McKeich Michael Fowler Centre, 10th Mar Reviewed by Gael Ferguson and Tamsin Evans

From the start of the concert it was clear this was to be as informal a performance as is possible with a near full house in the Michael Fowler Centre. We were invited to join "the flashest Māori garage party ever" with the Modern Māori Quartet having "wrangled the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra" to replace the usual “old rubbish stereo and couple of guitars” (although two guitars were brought out for certain numbers). The Quartet introduced themselves: James Tito, Maaka Pohatu, Matariki Whatarua and Francis Kora, with self-deprecating humour that was present throughout the show and theatrical flair befitting four graduates of Toi Whakaari.

The programme comprised new arrangements of familiar and not so familiar songs, some written by quartet members, and almost all accompanied by the orchestra. Some were sung in English and many in Te Reo Māori. The Quartet won over many in the audience with their tribute to those who served in World Wars I & II, with a very special mention for the 28th Māori Battalion.

Following a powerful opening karakia, the programme was diverse and the harmonies exceptional with solo opportunities maximised. The balance between the orchestral accompaniment and the singing was superb. It was possible to hear the various orchestral parts and instruments as clearly as the singing with neither overwhelming the other. The Quartet are talented actors, accomplished modern dancers and movers who wove in traditional waiata actions in a stunning way, and good musicians. The strongest performances were the traditional songs and more particularly those sung in Te Reo Māori.

While the humour may not always have been quite to everyone's taste, it certainly maintained the garage party theme to the end. The Quartet's charisma and easy charm, combined with an excellent musical performance all round and matched with the forces of the NZSO made for a memorable show.

The Man Written and Directed by Benjamin Crellin Cavern Club, 1st Mar Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

The Man reminds me of a slightly less murderous version of Rorshach from Watchmen. In saying that, The Man (who does not wish to be named, so shall henceforth be referred to as “He Who Must Not Be Named” because it’s kind of fitting), does dream of killing us all, so perhaps he’s just as murderous but a bit more low-key about it. He is certainly as disgusted by the state of the world today as our favourite antihero (save for Batman, probably), except he’s always smiling.

The Man’s bald head is painted bright yellow, his lips slathered in a perpetual, black grin. That’s right: this is a walking, talking smiley face who is about to lay down some seriously non-smiley-face-esque prose.

Clad all in pleather (latex, rubber, PVC? Whatever it is, it is incredibly shiny), The Man enters the Cavern Club jovially, greeting us Londoners like old friends. Our setting is the northeast corner of Hyde Park, where the famed Speakers’ Corner is taking place. Here, members of the public are allowed to say whatever they want to with no repercussions. The Speakers’ Corner is freedom of speech at its finest, so what does He Who Must Not Be Named have to say to us?

The Man’s social commentary is exactly what you’d expect from someone who looks like a vigilante. Racism, sexism, the rise of technology, the perverted nature of Hollywood, and the 21st century existential crisis are just some of the topics covered. This is a monologue performed with exuberance, stamina, flair, and gusto that raises some incredibly interesting questions.

Why does one instance of discrimination offend us but not the other? Are we really as liberal as we’d like to believe? Without saying it aloud, He Who Must Not Be Named tells us that we reek of hypocrisy. It’s confronting and provocative in all the right ways.

Ultimately, The Man creates a safe space to assault the very nature of humanity, and we’re all a little better off for it.

The Mikado Written by W. S. Gilbert & Arthur Sullivan Directed by Stuart Maunder Presented by NZ Opera The Opera House, 25th Mar Reviewed by Tamsin Evans and Jennie Jones

Great entertainment. That would be the overall impression of this lively and funny musical drama. While remaining true to the original, the director and cast brought a very modern, up-to-the-minute flair to the show – from contemporary dialogue, covering domestic and international politics and genuinely funny verbal and visual jokes; to the hybrid costumes and a versatile and elegant set that very successfully captured the Japanese culture of the period and the influence of the 21st century.

A performance is always enhanced by live music and Orchestra Wellington was well directed by 25-year-old conductor Isaac Hayward. While occasionally outdoing the singers for those seated in the stalls, the music and singing were well balanced and clear to the ear up in the circle.

All the performers were stars on the night but particular mention must go to Kanan Breen, a supremely 11th hour replacement for the injured Jonathan Abernethy in the main role of Nanki-Poo. Breen arrived from Adelaide less than 24 hours before the curtain went up, and without the programme notes and director’s introduction, you would never have known he wasn't a member of the company. His performance never faltered through jet lag or the disadvantage of just one rehearsal.

As a comedy, the performance was hugely enhanced by Byron Coll as Ko-Ko, the Lord High Executioner. Primarily a character actor, his voice was less strong than the professional singers but in every other way his timing, speech, and gestures were perfect. Helen Medlyn also played to her strengths, creating one of the most unforgettable characters in Katisha. The Mikado himself (James Clayton) was suitably regal in long robes and high platform shoes in gold. With his height and makeup, he had a distinct air of John Cleese about him. Whether this was deliberate or not, it was certainly an effective way to bring about the happy ending.

Two Girls One Shop Written by Millie Hanford and Maddie Harris Directed by Dan Bain BATS Theatre, 24th Feb Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Two teenage girls, one shop. The highest performing Glassons in Christchurch, to be exact.

Simone (Hanford) is a future fashionista, obsessed with designing less lemon, more lemonade hued clothing for the store. If Simone’s bright pink portfolio is accepted, she’ll be one of only two reps in the whole country to attend the annual Glassons design meeting, and we’ll all be donning lemonade cardigans before we know it. In short, the world will be a better place.

Sophia (Harris) isn’t really that into fashion, preferring to focus on boys and the latest diet fad. In her spare time, Sophia likes to hunt her mini Mars bars through the bush (the Paleo diet), blend up her Maccas (the juice cleanse), and boycott water, because that’s where fish live, and how would you like it if someone drunk your home? (Veganism).

It’s a friendship of convenience to say the least. Both girls do have something in common though: they think that the omnipresent store manager Sharon is, in fact, Jesus.

Hanford is vivaciously vulgar; Harris stoic and sceptic. Put them together and you have sizzling chemistry resulting in comedic dynamite.

Two Girls One Shop highlights the self-righteous, selfie-obsessed nature of youth today but stops short of questioning it. It’s certainly not a thought provoking or a meaningful piece, but I think that’s half (or all of) the point. In and of itself, it’s a shallow study of shallow subjects – a vacuous insight into vacuous people. If that is indeed the intention, then Two Girls One Shop absolutely nails it.

Sure, the play could delve deeper into the complexities of Generation Z, but I love that Harris and Hanford have made a conscious decision not to do that. Instead, they’ve simply held up a mirror to those their age and forced the audience to have a little cry about what’s reflected. Well, a cry or a cry-laugh. I’m still undecided.

FLO Devised and Performed by Amanda Baker, Will Harris, Richard Chapman, and Gina Moss BATS Theatre, 22nd Feb Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

A bogan teen willing to dress as a bumblebee. A delivery man ever weary of a narrow door frame. A perpetually surprised, mildly inept courier. A very busy and important lady who is too busy and important to be kept waiting. An ill-timed ‘get well soon’ balloon. It’s all in a day’s work for our protagonist Flo, a very sweet, recently bereaved florist.

FLO features a small ensemble of four. Each actor (save for Baker, who plays Flo) performs as multiple characters, communicating through physicality alone. Trestle masks convey an archetypal emotion that each actor embodies in their portrayal. It’s not easy to keep an audience engaged without dialogue and only intermittent music, but this ensemble rises to the challenge. In fact, we’re more than engaged – we’re positively captivated.

Although FLO’s more dramatic characters add great comedic value (meeting bridezilla is a definite highlight), to me, the beauty of the piece lies in its simplicity. Small shrugs of happiness, repeated encounters, and a stunning instance of ring composition (courtesy of lighting designer Natasha James) lend an intrinsic sense of charm to the work.

These special moments do get lost in the intricacies of the plotline. The story of the man who was sent the wrong flowers is a little too convoluted and doesn’t seem to say much beyond itself. The business woman is perhaps a little too busy – her exaggerated physicality ups the pace of the piece but contrasts with the effortless, understated movements of the rest of the ensemble. I’d love to see FLO stripped back even further so that its magic is allowed to breathe.

Chapman’s buoyant sound design accentuates the piece beautifully. Onstage, Chapman plays the ukulele, clarinet, and guitar both live and through a loop pedal, bathed all the while in a soft, subtle light.

Throughout FLO, I feel as if I am watching a Claymation film live on stage. It is an exquisite work; gorgeous, elegant, and uplifting.

Paying For It: An Insider’s Guide to the NZ Sex Industry Fringe Bar, 15th Feb Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

In this review, I will not be using names (real or fake) or descriptions of the artists involved in Paying For It – An Insider’s Guide to the NZ Sex Industry. This is in order to protect the identities of the people brave enough to stand up in front of a live audience and share their experiences of New Zealand’s sex industry.

Paying For It – An Insider’s Guide to the NZ Sex Industry involves a series of true monologues delivered by a variety of people currently working in the sex industry. In no particular order, we heard stories of sexual surrogacy, prostitution, addiction, and abuse – both emotional and physical. Specific topics ranged from sugaring and BDSM to Grindr, stripping, and sexual identity. Some stories were celebratory and joyful, others highlighted harsh truths and were difficult to swallow – though not nearly as difficult to hear as I’m sure they were to tell.

For obvious reasons, I cannot review the content of the show. However, I can say that each individual crafted and delivered their story beautifully.

I applaud everyone who got up on stage. I’m sure I speak for the whole audience when I say that you are all amazing people and your insights are invaluable. You’re right – sex work is a legal profession in New Zealand and the stigmas associated with it are unfair. We need to address this. That is exactly what your show does. It needs to be made accessible to all.

I’ve thought about it all night and have decided that I don’t want to see Paying For It as a fully developed theatrical production. I think the beauty of it lies in its candidness, its stutters, and its authenticity. I would like to see Paying For It as an open mic night. A regular one. A come one, come all where people can get up and find healing and acceptance in sharing their stories – just as I hope you did.

Onstage Dating Presented by Bron Batten Bats Theatre, 14th Feb Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Onstage Dating is a one-woman show in which Bron Batten dates a different random audience member onstage each night. At a candlelit table, on a couch, and then in a bed, the selected audience member (this evening it’s a sprightly young fellow named Josh) is asked “the 36 questions that lead to love.” Bron and her lucky suitor answer these questions in turn while drinking wine and eating cheese. By the end of the show, Bron is down to her underwear (although she is dressed like a bumblebee), and Josh is fully clothed but has at least undone two shirt buttons and removed his mismatched socks.

Suffice to say, it’s a strange premise for a show.

However, it’s a brave and glorious one too. Singletons are always – somewhat condescendingly – encouraged to “get out there.” I can’t think of a more solid example of an attempt to do this than Onstage Dating. It’s hard to ascertain whether Bron is legitimately looking for love on stage, but she does send her first candidate back because he is married, so perhaps she is.

She’s also put in years of “research” by going on more than 50 terrible first dates, so she’s clearly dedicated to the cause. We are allowed a glimpse into these experiences before the actual onstage date begins – it’s a privilege that relaxes us, makes us laugh, and unfortunately, brings back memories of our own disastrous dating flops.

From the get-go, we relate to Bron, we root for her, and we laugh with her. That part is incredibly important: her self-deprecating sense of humour, greatly enhanced by her reaction to a “let’s show strangers a picture of Bron and ask them what they think” video, makes us feel at ease.

Witnessing Bron and Josh’s date does get deeply uncomfortable at times. However, because of how sincere, unapologetically real, and hilarious Bron is – so really because of how excellent a human being she is – Onstage Dating is an absolutely superb show.

Shirley Gnome: Taking it up the Notch Presented by Heartichoke Arts Bats Theatre, 13th Feb Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Clad in pink sequins with a cowboy hat perched atop a mop of blonde hair so pristine it could be a wig (wait, is it a wig?), Shirley Gnome looks like a country singer. She sounds like one too. However, I don’t think you could label her as such and get away with it.

You could probably say that Shirley Gnome is a combination of, and a cross between, Flight of the Conchords and the Aussie musical comedy trio Tripod, but that would only work if these bands sang nothing but dirty songs and they were one woman instead of five men and also they were beautiful and very in touch with their sexuality. So no, actually, you can’t really say that. I think that’s one of the greatest things about Shirley Gnome – she’s out there doing this indescribable thing and you can’t compare her to anyone else.

Shirley’s voice is a sweet yet powerful, soft yet guttural one that purrs juxtapositions. Her lips express profanities with a smile that could melt a kitten’s heart. She appears wholesome and yet sings about sex with a smuttiness that would put even the dirtiest of men to shame. Shirley Gnome normalises sex. Most importantly, she normalises women talking about sex. It’s a candidness that we could all afford to adopt.

Although all of Shirley’s songs now have a special place in my heart, my favourite was one about a small “yappy” puppy. Part of me wanted to see this story go further: we’ve heard about the death of the puppy and the lady who adopted the puppy, but what about the mother who gave birth to the lady who adopted the puppy? For some morbid reason, I wanted this song to take Shirley on a bizarre, murderous rampage. I think it’s because Shirley is such a fantastic storyteller. What happens when she pushes her prowess to the absolute limit? How much more can she get away with?

Jekyll & Hyde Directed by Leo Gene Peters Presented by A Slightly Isolated Dog Running at Circa Theatre until 11th Feb Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Interactive theatre.

Did I scare you?

It’s safe to say that interactive theatre is not everyone’s cup of tea. Even those who love it might not always be in the mood to impersonate a pigeon or a prostitute in front of their peers. I’m in the indecisive “I don’t think I mind it” camp, but am very aware that some people hate it so much, they would refuse to attend a show if they knew there was even the slightest (only slightest) chance of being called on stage.

That’s what I love about A Slightly Isolated Dog; their productions make interactive theatre feel safe and harmless. So safe and harmless, in fact, that the genre could be a small puppy dog with a waggly tail and boogly eyes that you want to hug. Quite badly.

I still can’t quite work out how they do this, although I have come to the conclusion that calling their audience “very attractive” in alluring French accents helps. When you do get called on, each member of the company praises, encourages, and supports you to no end, making you feel special rather than personally targeted.

I’m also a big fan of A Slightly Isolated Dog’s topical references, which bring their work close to home even when it’s set a world away. In the case of Jekyll & Hyde, we have a Kiwi theatre company impersonating a French theatre company telling us a story set in London during the Victorian era while constantly referencing Wellington. Everything they say could be about you; your flatmate that leaves dishes on the bench (or you that leaves dishes on the bench and annoys your flatmates), that person who never called you back, that money you owe your friend that caused a relationship breakdown, that desire to eat organic food but your lack of funds to do so because Commonsense Organics is nom but ridiculously overpriced.

Susie Berry, Samuel Austin, Andrew Paterson, Comfrey Sanders, and Jonathan Price form the collective. Their performance is a display of improvisatory mastery; chaotic yet controlled, every reference carefully considered, every hiccup smoothly sailed over with flair and panache. New members of the cast bring new dynamics and new stories, not better or worse, because this is a tight-knit family. It’s a family that I absolutely love watching and could do so again and again, even if I’ve seen them do this show before.

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds TSB Bank Arena, 17th Jan Reviewed by Madelaine Empson.

I still have no words to describe this concert. This review may be fruitless in that case, but I will do my best to express the effect it had on me. I don’t purport to know every single Nick Cave song, to have listened to every album, or to have watched every film or documentary that he has ever made. In fact, I only started listening to him about six months ago, and still vividly remember the first time I heard Red Right Hand. Time stopped and I was aurally transfixed. Then I watched the music video and that was it. What a ridiculously beautiful man, what a dark soul, how bizarre, how devastating. Above all I wanted to see the world how he saw it. I wanted to know how his mind works and what goes on in the crevices of his heart. So of course, when the opportunity to review his show arose, I took it.

I went into the concert with Into My Arms stuck in my head and the knowledge that this was the first time he had toured since his son passed away. Although I knew that I was in for an emotionally charged evening, I was still wholly unprepared for what was to come.

We could see the whole crowd from where we sat – thousands of people swaying as one, stunned into silence as one, screaming as one, and reaching out with an animalistic desire for what my friend has aptly deemed “the dark Jesus.” Nick Cave reached back, walking into the audience and grasping us, telling us he loved us, “but that was a given.” This was not an emotionally detached, famous musician; this was a famous musician that made us feel like we were his whole world. That with staggering bravery and humility allowed us a glimpse into his soul.

My tears came during Into My Arms and flowed freely after that. Distant Sky, featuring an ethereal projection of Danish vocalist Else Torp, was awe-inspiring. Stagger Lee was huge, dirty, raucous, monumental. This concert was monumental.

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds are monumental.

A Symphonic Night at the Movies Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Hamish McKeich Michael Fowler Centre, 26th Nov Reviewed by Kim Chamberlain and Tamsin Evans

This was a double bill of Alfred Hitchcock's films Vertigo and Psycho with live soundtracks (composed by Bernard Herrmann) performed by the NZSO. The films were projected on to a screen above the orchestra, giving the audience a complete sound and visual experience.

The music was readily forgotten sometimes as the audience was immersed in the film. Then there would be sudden realisation the orchestra was there and the music was live. The orchestra produced a good sound that generally balanced the dialogue. The occasional exception to this served to make the impact and effect of music as an integral part of the film all the more significant.

The use of a full orchestra for Vertigo heightened the tension to dramatic effect. Although only the strings played for Psycho, reflecting the sparse and minimal aesthetic of the film, the score was skillfully matched to the action on screen. The sound varied from the famously shrill chords of the shower scene, to the use of mutes, and the recurring, more melodic themes of other characters and moods.

Overall, the programme was long but it was a rare opportunity to experience differences between the two films: the full orchestral sound and technicolor of the 1954 Vertigo, and the strings only for the black and white 1960’s Psycho. As a departure from the NZSO's usual concert offerings this was an exciting event, leaving the audience with a greater respect and understanding of how much the soundtrack can influence our experience of a film.

Roger Hall’s Jack and the Beanstalk Written by Roger Hall Directed by Susan Wilson Running at Circa Theatre until Dec 20th Reviewed by Susan Allen

Since 2005, the yearly pantomime at Circa Theatre has been a tradition in Wellington. This year was my first time attending and I was not sure what to expect; I assumed it would be fun for my children at the very least. However, Roger Hall’s Jack and the Beanstalk proved a highly entertaining evening for all.

Set in Lesterville, which garnered a smile from Mayor Lester, who I was seated behind, the panto touched on numerous local and national issues. Nothing is sacred: Parliament, Work and Income, housing, NZ Post, Trump, Fonterra, and just about everything else is mocked and the audience relished it. Let’s face it, when you can’t cry, you laugh, and 2016 has certainly had its ups and downs. This play was the perfect comedic remedy. While most of the jokes are for a more mature audience, there is enough slapstick humour and opportunities to participate to keep the little ones entertained.

Gavin Rutherford (who plays Hilda Hardup and Aunty Pam) is the star in every sense of the word. Rutherford’s impromptu interaction with the audience, comedic timing, and gregariousness takes the show from funny and amusing to hilarious. The other cast members also shine, in particular Bronwyn Turei, who plays Betsy the cow and the golden goosy.

If you ask me and the 3 harshest critics under 10, this is the perfect, light-hearted way to wrap up the year. You will be glad you went.

The Comedy of Errors Written by William Shakespeare Directed by Chris O’Grady Gryphon Theatre, 16th Nov Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

The Comedy of Errors follows two sets of identical twins who were separated at birth: Antiphiolus of Syracuse (Jack Powers) and Dromio of Syracuse (Ivana Palezevic); and Antiphiolus of Ephesus (James Bayliss) and Dromio of Ephesus (Aimee Smith). When one set goes looking for the other, a case of mistaken identity gets drastically out of hand. One Antiphiolus finds that he has suddenly acquired a wife (Adriana, played by Angela Etheridge) although he rather fancies her sister (Luciana, played by Jess Brownell), whilst the other Antiphiolus cannot seem to find his bling, get into his house, or get out of prison. Meanwhile, Dromio of Syracuse becomes betrothed to a very large, grease-covered cook (Shauwn Keil), and Dromio of Ephesus just wants the lovely rope he has bought to please his master. It is a very nice rope.

Stagecraft have taken this extremely silly play and made it even sillier, creating a farcical comedy replete with breadstick swords, carnival cut-outs, and a deadly toilet brush, all set in a colourful seaside town. The result is an explosive, dynamic, and vibrant production that tickles the funny bone and overwhelms the senses in a fun and fabulous way.

Audience interaction is perfectly balanced so as not to make spectators feel uncomfortable but to still engage them in a delightful manner. Winks and flirtations ensue – a big kudos to Brownell, who coped with an audience member trying to kiss her on the lips (if you’re reading this sir, that was not okay) with much more dignity than I would have managed.

The Rime of the Modern Mariner Written by Nick Hayes Adapted by The PlayGround Collective Directed by Robin Kerr Running at BATS Theatre until 26th Nov Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

The Rime of the Modern Mariner is an eco-conscious production that centres around recent widower Taylor (Milo Cawthorne). After awkwardly charming attempts to meet a new lady (think Michael Cera), the unsuccessful Taylor instead embarks on a stag-boat-party with the lads (Grace Augustine, Ava Diakhaby, and Mary Weir). When the boat becomes shipwrecked in a “swirling vortex of trash”, Taylor is haunted by ghostly apparitions of his late wife Michelle (Nikita Tu Bryant) and must face the consequences of our generation’s overconsumption.

Some outstanding design elements feature in this production: the set (Sam Trubridge), consisting of sheets of rubbish bags resembling waves and old fishing nets, is both exquisitely designed and realised. Tim Burton-esque puppets, made from actual found rubbish, complete the picture. These puppets are outstandingly eerie and resonate in their intended manner, hitting home the theme of the work. A visual highlight is a tiny house on a hill that is delightfully reminiscent of Studio Ghibli. The storm is spectacular (full credit to lighting designer Jane Hakaraia), and the music is quite stunning. Bryant’s voice is absolutely beautiful.

The Rime of the Modern Mariner crosses boundaries between surreal and naturalistic genres, often in a highly effective and thought-provoking manner. At other times, the abrupt changes in form and pace don’t quite work. For example, we see Taylor and Dickie having a lovely, peaceful chat after a dramatic and rather violent shipwreck – I don’t think it’s possible for anybody to be that calm after learning that they are stranded in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

The Biggest Written and Directed by Jamie McCaskill Hannah Playhouse, 3rd Nov Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

The Biggest follows a group of four middle-aged “rural fullas” as they attempt to usurp three-time Hauraki Fishing Competition winner Jan (Wesley Dowdell). Jan is a young, arrogant brat who is dating Walter’s (Jim Moriarty’s) daughter Cassie (Moana Ete). Consequently, Walter and his mates – Pat (Peter Hambleton), Stu (Tim Gordon), and Mick (Apirana Taylor) – must catch the biggest fish.

In the opening scene of The Biggest, Pat mouths off about his latest conquests in a crude manner, complete with obscene gestures. I think it is dangerous to start a play with such a blatant display of sexism; it caused me (and my partner, who is male), to immediately switch off from the character. Later, when Pat goes through health problems, I find that I am not invested in his plight. McCaskill says that in writing The Biggest, his goal was to “represent the male rural voice and the way they interact with each other.” Whilst I wholly understand and appreciate this sentiment, I think there are shrewder ways you can address sexism in a 21st century play.

Another issue with the play is that Cassie – a strong, intelligent woman – is dating Jan. Although a line is slipped in explaining that Cassie was first attracted to Jan because of his confidence, it isn’t enough. A woman like that would not give a man like that so many chances.

The Biggest does feature some great performances. Hambleton is hilarious in his doddery nature, Gordon is grounded and genuine, and Taylor brings a wise sincerity to his role.

Lungs Written by Duncan Macmillan Directed by Dean Hewison Running at Circa Theatre until 19th Nov Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

A young couple, known simply as “Man” (Arthur Meek) and “Woman” (Aidee Walker), want to have a baby. But is this the right thing for the planet? Is it selfish to bring another person into this over-populated world? Lungs asks all of these questions and more in a conversation that takes place over many years. There’s no set, no props, and no costume changes. This is just a conversation, and it’s gut-wrenching and stunning in its simplicity.

The sheer amount of dialogue, let alone its rapid-fire nature, must have been a phenomenal challenge for the actors. Meek and Walker rise to the occasion and deliver their lines with ardour and what appears to be ease; a testament to their respective and collective talent as well as Hewison’s direction. The careful consideration and crafting behind each line of dialogue is abundantly clear in this masterful performance.

When I first spoke to Hewison about the script, he told me that it was simultaneously “one of the funniest and one of the most heart-breaking plays” that he had ever read. Still speechless days after the performance, I can attest to this statement, and will do so with fervour. I have not laughed – nor have I cried – that much at the theatre for a very long time. This is a powerful, brave, and beautiful work. I would like to thank Dean and his wife Adrianne (the producer of Show Pony) for bringing it from Edinburgh to Wellington from the bottom of my heart.

Central Written by Dave Armstrong Directed by Conrad Newport Running at Circa Theatre until 12th Nov Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Central is a New Zealand play set on a vineyard in Central Otago. It follows screenwriter Michael (Tom Trevella) and his girlfriend Cherie (Claire Waldron), whose joint arthouse film project is interrupted by Hollywood calling. Meanwhile, a classic kiwi bloke (Brian, played by Alex Greig) builds a deck, and a proactive young housekeeper (Karen, played by Harriet Prebble) maintains the household.

Central explores the tension between environment and development; money and happiness; and conservation and liveability. It does so in a sharp yet subtle way, intertwining universal issues with witty dialogue, comedic bite, and highly relatable (albeit two mildly awful) characters. Which brings me to my next point; half of the cast play horrid characters that are still deeply engaging. As opposed to the normal response when watching unlikeable characters doing unlikeable things on stage, we do not emotionally detach from them.

This is a testament to both Prebble (whose performance is astutely understated until the last possible moment) and Trevella (whose larger than life, jovial stage presence distracts us from the shallow nature of his character), as well as Armstrong’s superb script. The awfulness of these characters seeps out in small doses. When it finally does come out in full force to play, it’s emphasised by an excellent slow blackout (courtesy of lighting designer Glenn Ashworth) that elicits actual gulps and whoops from the audience.

Greig exudes a lovely sincerity and outstanding comedic timing, while Waldron’s performance is effortless.

Central is hilarious, touching and, quite simply, brilliant.

Nutcracker Presented by Orchestra Wellington Michael Fowler Centre, 15th Oct Reviewed by Emily Sharp

Tonight we open with a performance by Arohanui Strings, a youth development programme that inspires and assists children from underprivileged areas to reach their full potential musically. A truly beautiful moment of the evening was watching the younger ones stand and play Sleeping Beauty Waltz to an almost sold out crowd.

Assistant conductor Vincent Hardaker is one to watch, giving us a gorgeous Overture to Beatrice and Benedict. Not only can you clearly hear the gaiety and humour in the piece, but Hardaker delicately captures the whisper of sorrow that flickers in the composition as well.

It was a true delight to have Michael Houstoun join us for Piano Concerto No.3 in E Major. This piece is truly a ‘last word’ from Bartok, as it is well known he passed with 17 bars of construction left of the piece. Having heard other performances and renditions of this piece, Houstoun stands apart. A true comparison here is that you do not hear the differential of keys when he plays; rather it is as if the music is sung.

Taddei has absolutely outdone himself with the final piece of the evening: Act II of the Nutcracker ballet. It was poignant and explosive; a true perfection of the inspiring pieces. I have never heard a more dynamic performance, and I think the whole audience would agree as the applause went for so long Taddei motioned for us to stop! He jokes at the end that the 17th season next year will be at least 500 times this performance… well, count me in.

London Conchord Ensemble Presented by Chamber Music New Zealand Michael Fowler Centre, 13th Oct Reviewed by Emily Sharp

London Conchord Ensemble, one of Europe’s leading chamber groups, concludes Chamber Music’s fantastic Kaleidoscopes season of 2016. Known for their innovative performances, the Ensemble presents us with an extensive range of genres across the classical field, which is a true testament to their abilities.

It is widely known that shortly after the premiere of Quintet (E-Flat major), Mozart wrote to his father: “I myself consider it to be the best thing I have written in my life”. The players here executed Mozart’s pride immaculately, though duly noted not without effort as these particular pieces are an exemplary display of composure and craft.

A crowd favourite was Schoenberg. The original piece was written for a full orchestra, but we heard the reduced version by his student Webern, criticised for being too hectic and too far from the classical mode when it premiered. The audience remedied this tonight with high applaud.

We are lifted up again with Poulenc’s sextet; the jazzy undertones and influences are particularly enjoyable here.

The final piece of the final show of the 2016 Kaleidoscopes season was Debussy’s La Mer. This particular piece, arranged for piano trio by British Composer Sally Beamish, continued the theme of reduced versions. Poignant and explosive, the season couldn’t have ended on a more powerful, formidable note and the players delivered thus. Bravo.

The Gaps Between Presented by Sebastian Morgan-Lynch Circa Theatre, 11th Oct Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

The Gaps Between is a solo performance devised and presented by Sebastian Morgan-Lynch, who plays the cello over both pre-recorded instrumental music and a voice-over narrative about a self-absorbed man named Colin. Behind our cellist sits a screen on which time-lapse photography (shot by Tim Henwood) is projected. In addition to projections of the Wellington region, various semi-psychedelic animations accentuate the performance.

Henwood’s design elements work in perfect synergy with Morgan-Lynch’s discordant, ethereal soundscape.

Morgan-Lynch plays the full spectrum of human emotion with great passion, his score deep and profound. Although the music is guided by an overriding narrative (Colin’s quest for love, with a murder, an angel, and an octopus thrown in for good measure), its beauty lies in the fact that it can be interpreted subjectively. For me, it brought to the surface old memories that I’d forgotten about; thoughts of my past, my present, and my future occurred and coalesced from the moment the first note was played. Watching this performance was a cathartic and transcendent experience.

The main theme of the show is its namesake: the gaps between people. The hollowness of our relationships and the desperation for something deeper resonate throughout the work and yet are never explicitly stated. This is devised work at its finest.

As cliché as it may sound, during the performance I legitimately caught myself on the edge of my seat, clutching my heart and gasping audibly. Such was the power of The Gaps Between. I was deeply moved by this work and will remember it for years to come.

Bold Worlds, New Frontiers Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Fawzi Haimor Michael Fowler Centre, 8th October Reviewed by Dawn Brook and Tamsin Evans

This exhilarating programme opened with Three Movements by Steve Reich. The unusual seating arrangement of the orchestra had pairs of marimba and vibraphone directly in front of the conductor. The reason quickly became obvious: these instruments were played continuously through all three movements, driving the relentless pulse that was the main feature of this piece by one of the greatest minimalist composers. The music may have been minimalist in harmonic and melodic range but the whole orchestra was brought into play at different times, creating great complexity of sound.

The orchestra was joined by soloist Anne Akiko Meyers for the Violin Concerto by Mason Bates. The concerto was commissioned in 2012 by Meyers in conjunction with the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra. In three movements, I. Archaeopteryx, II. Lakebed Memories, and III. The Rise of the Birds, the composer has created a strong and visual sense of transformation. This began with a clear depiction of the jagged and angular archaeopteryx fossil, through the waters of the lake where the fossil was found, ultimately to the lyrical and melodic passages of the dinosaur bird in flight. Meyers gave a stupendous performance, dominant but never overwhelming and technically brilliant. The breadth and quality of sound she drew from her violin was superb.

The well-known and popular Symphony No. 9 in E Minor, Op. 95, From the New World by Dvořák concluded the programme. As if the demands of the first half weren't enough, this was played with great energy and drive to the enjoyment of orchestra and audience alike.

Heathers: The Musical Presented by The Wellington Footlights Society Directed by Karen Anslow Whitireia Performance Centre, 28th Sep Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Heathers: The Musical is an off-Broadway musical adaptation of the 1988 cult film by Daniel Waters. It follows misfit Veronica Sawyer (Ruby Kemp) as she attempts to climb the high school food chain, ultimately landing herself in Westerburg High’s most popular clique, The Heathers. Veronica’s attraction to bad-boy J.D. (Kevin Orlando) causes trouble – all three Heathers, primarily ring-leader Heather Chandler (Kree McMillan), disapprove of Veronica’s new love. So, what’s a star-crossed couple to do? Kill everybody, apparently.

I appreciate the lengths that The Wellington Footlights Society have gone to to ensure that everybody watching Heathers: The Musical feels safe and comfortable. Trigger warnings are discussed pre-show, with Youthline residing in the foyer to await those affected by the performance. Musical Director Katie Morton (who executed their role exquisitely) emailed me before I arrived to outline the difficult subjects that would be addressed. Being well-aware of what I was going in to allowed me to fully indulge in the performance.

Overall, this production of Heathers: The Musical is vibrant, dynamic, and highly entertaining. The comedy shines and the crudity sizzles, whilst serious issues are treated with respect by the cast, production team, and even the audience. It’s a delicate balance to strike, and it’s been struck very gracefully here.

Standout performers include Kevin Orlando, whose voice is absolutely phenomenal. Although I haven’t seen the movie (shame on me), I’ve been told that he embodies his character to a tee. Kudos! Kree McMillan’s voice too is outstanding – I wish she had been given more moments to shine. The ensemble is brilliant, their harmonies deliciously rich and resonant and their energy palpable.

I thoroughly enjoyed this performance and am off to watch the movie a.s.a.p.

When We Dead Awaken Written by Henrik Ibsen Directed by Iris Henderson BATS Theatre, 27th Sep Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

“No sane person would choose to put on this play”, states Iris Henderson in her eloquent Director’s Note. “It is incredibly dark, dense, and theatrically impossible.” Although I have not read the original, I have encountered Ibsen’s work on numerous occasions and can certainly validate this statement. In that case, what I would first like to do is commend Henderson and Catriona Tipene for their marvellous adaptation; this play has life, this play is funny, and ultimately, this play means something.

Arnold Rubek (wonderfully embodied by Ryan Cundy) is a one-hit-wonder artist, too preoccupied with thoughts of his next work to pay any attention to his wife Maia (a delightfully charismatic performance from Henderson). Enter bear-killer Ulfheim (a dynamic portrayal by Tom Kereama) who offers to fulfil all of the promises that Arnold hasn’t. Arnold’s run-in with a mysterious woman in white, Irina Von Satow (the alluring Tipene), places all four characters at the summit of a mountain, where the Woman in Black (the captivating and committed Evangelina Telfar) awaits.

Lauren Stewart’s set is fantastic, consisting of marble pillars and a superbly abstract mountaintop centre-stage. Alexandra Frost’s lighting design is pastel-hued, creating soft, romantic light that speaks of bygone days. I find it strange that we too are illuminated; occasionally I become distracted by the expressions of my fellow audience members.

Two days later and I am still trying to figure out how When We Dead Awaken made me feel, but I can say without hesitation that it made me feel something. To me, that is the point of theatre.

The Emperor’s New Clothes Written by Guy Langford Directed by Deborah Rea Running at Tararua Tramping Club Clubrooms until Oct 8th Reviewed by Susan Allen

This production brings the well-known Hans Christian Andersen tale, The Emperor's New Clothes, into the 21st century. The show follows Marianne A La Mode (Katja Romanski), the ruthless head of a fashion label appropriately named ‘Emperor’.

A La Mode is in search of the most stylish clothing to wear on the runway of an upcoming fashion show. Following the premise of the children’s classic, she is duped into paying for an extravagant outfit made with invisible material that only people with style can see.

Romanski is brilliant in the role of A La Mode. It is no secret that children can be the hardest critics and she is certainly convincing, if not a little frightening! However, Romanski’s intimidating character is well balanced by Jasmine Leota in the role of MC Style – the fashion designer who takes revenge on A La Mode. Leota is hilarious and down to earth, providing comic relief in the play. She effectively conspires with the young audience, bringing them into the charade to fool A La Mode. Catriona Tipene is also fantastic as The Intern and is the glue that holds the storyline together.

While the production is for all ages, the fashion show concept may be more appropriate for older children. However, the play works hard through several interactive moments and songs to keep the younger crowd engaged.

All in all, this is a clever twist on a well-known story and definitely a worthwhile production for the whole family.

Quintessence Chamber Music New Zealand Presented by the NZSQ & James Dunham Michael Fowler Centre, 19th Sep Reviewed by Emily Sharp

Mozart’s quintets are staples to one’s musical diet and the New Zealand String Quartet and Dunham serve a tasty dish with full compliments to the chef. Interestingly enough, Gjelsten (cello) seems to lead over the others with postures and gestures; I rather enjoyed watching his embellishments.

I felt like it took them a little while to warm up as the third piece, Adagio ma non troppo, stood out and that set the pace thereon. Delicate and dreamy but with notes of assertion, the NZSQ and Dunham came together stronger in this piece.

The commissioned piece by Salina Fisher, Tōrino, is incredible. I would absolutely recommend those who missed out on the performance to listen to it immediately. Working with Rob Thorne, this piece is a musical response to the Māori instrument putorino. Tōrino is incredibly haunting, based on various representations of Māori voices; it captures you entirely and is not unlike what one would imagine a siren’s song to sound like. It engages you on a deeper level and generates a feeling of anxiety. What a piece! I have never heard the audience applaud so when the composer went up on stage.

Finishing off with Brahms, we are more buoyant with Quintet No.2. Even though Brahms wrote this thinking that it would be his final piece, it is arguably his best work. The NZSQ and Dunham play in full force in true Brahms’ form – vicious and strong. Usually I find myself preferring Mozart over Brahms in strings, but tonight I am convinced to favour Brahms. Pure indulgence.

Sister Act Presented by Wellington Musical Theatre Directed by John Goddard Running at The Opera House until 24th Sep Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

When Deloris Van Cartier (Lahleina Feaunati) sees her boyfriend Curtis (Richie Rewa) murder a hapless crony, she is forced to hide in the convent of the Queen of Angels under the witness protection programme. Here, the profoundly un-catholic disco diva disguises herself as Sister Mary Clarence and takes the church choir under her wing. Much to the distress of Mother Superior (Stephanie Gartrell), Deloris transforms the choir, and indeed, its nuns.

This Wellington Musical Theatre production of Sister Act is exuberant and uplifting. Choreographer Stacey Neale and musical director Michael Nicholas Williams display exceptional synergy, creating highly polished numbers that thoroughly delight the audience. Sparkles, colour, and vibrancy abound thanks to costume designer Lesley Burkes-Harding and production designer John Harding, who again work as one.

The cast exhibit fantastic energy and commitment, their joy alighting their faces (and ours) as they settle into their roles. Lahleina Feaunati is a sassy queen, charismatic from beginning to end. Whilst our star obviously has a beautiful powerhouse voice and an incredible range, her performance does feature some shaky vocal moments.

Standout numbers include a superbly sleazy rendition of Lady in the Long Black Dress (Ben Emerson is one to look out for here), Jess Old’s incredible The Life I Never Led, and practically every song that features Rochelle Rose, who plays Sister Mary Lazarus.

The ensemble as a whole is glorious, their harmonies stunning and resonant. However, on several occasions I did notice dancers looking to their fellow cast members for choreography cues. Because Sister Act is so refined and brilliant, these moments of uncertainty do standout.

I wonder if I have witnessed the ‘second night syndrome’; when the cast is still a little nervous but is no longer running on pure adrenaline or playing to a packed house. There’s every reason for these nerves to dissipate over the season, as each person involved in Sister Act is phenomenally talented.

The Grass is Meaner Written by Edward Campbell Directed by Geraldine Brophy Running at BATS Theatre until 24th Sep Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

The Grass is Meaner is a black-comedy thriller that follows café owners Mary and Alec McPherson (Julie Edwards and Edward Campbell). Due to a storm, the couple is forced to cancel their dinner reservations and instead celebrate their 20th wedding anniversary indoors. Alec’s hermit nature means that they probably won’t go out again for another year, much to Mary’s dismay. When a British stranger (Scott Ransom) walks in after-hours and asks to use the telephone, everybody’s lives are turned upside down.

If I had to describe The Grass is Meaner in one word, it would be “intriguing.” Audience members had plenty to discuss post-show, with complete strangers assembling to try and piece together the finer plot points. Although the script features some sharp dialogue and moments of comedic bite, it is a little too convoluted at times and is in need of more clarity. How does our narrator Donkey Boy (Hamish Boyle) know that Vic Snow (Phil Grieve) is looking for Baz the Bastard? Why is his lover, Sir Harold (Brian Hotter), privy to Baz’ location?

I also question the decision to feature Donkey Boy onstage at all times. Vic Snow’s omnipresence is justifiable – he looms over the lives of everybody he has ever encountered. In fact, Vic’s presence is quite stunning; he is always moodily lit, always seated, and always still. But Donkey Boy does not have enough to do with the happenings at The House of Mince, and therefore pulls focus.

Campbell’s performance is excellent; his sweet, silly Scottish man is the polar opposite of his rough, rebellious English one. Edwards is absolutely delightful. And an amazing illusion made me gasp audibly – you’ll have to see it to believe it.

Last Legs Written by Roger Hall Directed by Ross Jolly Running at Circa Theatre until 8th Oct Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Last Legs is Roger Hall’s latest addition to an impressive catalogue of plays about New Zealanders, for New Zealanders. Set in an upmarket retirement community in Auckland (The Cambridge), it follows various residents as they fill their twilight years with greed, jealousy, and lust. In Hall’s words, “the point of it really is that people are as badly behaved in this retirement home as they are anywhere else.”

Helena (Catherine Downes) has just moved into The Cambridge with her husband Angus (Ray Henwood), a former college professor who does not appreciate having to choose between his nigh-identical tweed jackets due to the lack of space. After lamenting his situation for a while, he soon perks up when he learns an old flame, Kitty (Vivien Bell), resides in the building also. Meanwhile ex-communicated real estate agents Trish (Donna Akersten) and Garry (Stephen Gledhill) dominate the Residents’ Committee, their tyranny allowing only for cask wine during Friday’s happy hour.

Edna (Jane Waddell) is an outspoken environmental activist who thoroughly regrets her decision to move into the home. Her obsession with non-refundable plastic bottles is quite amusing, particularly when she decides to pelt them at the Minister of Finance.

Some lovely performances feature in Last Legs. Henwood is extremely charming, even when complaining excessively, and Gledhill plays a narcissistic, sleazy jerk with subtlety and depth. All four women star as various (assumedly older) residents throughout the piece, shining and sparkling when they do so.

Although Last Legs certainly has moments of comedic brilliance, as a whole, it is nothing remarkable. Too much exposition and not enough interaction between characters prevents the audience from truly investing in the happenings at The Cambridge, or indeed, engaging with the play itself.

To The Memory of an Angel Orchestra Wellington Conducted by Marc Taddei Michael Fowler Centre, 10th Sept Reviewed by Emily Sharp

Taddei brings us the best yet of the Last Words series, with collections from Mahler, Bert, and Schubert. Joined by Wilma Smith for the concert’s namesake, violin concerto In Memory of an Angel, we were treated to a fantastic performance as always.

Opening with the Wellington Youth Choir, who were dressed in plain clothes among the audience to give us a nice surprise, we began with Mahler. The symphony spoke of woe and Mahler’s feelings of isolation at the time, then climaxed with pain before soothing out with themes of hope and reconciliation. This was a pleasant journey to begin with, then was of course brought into the fervent concerto with Smith.

Smith plays in true homage for the intended angel the piece was written for. In telling us the story, she begins with moody passionate romanticised themes, then brings the fevered sorrow alive in Allegro-Adagio. I believe Smith truly embodies how the piece was meant to be heard. Matching the anger with the orchestra they combine to a peak, then, similar to Mahler, soothe out with peace and resolve.

The second half entirely of Schubert was exquisite. This half was not only a personal favourite of mine, but I truly believe the Orchestra’s best work of late. I always find Schubert charming and methodological – this was no different. I found the symphony matched particularly well to Taddei’s style and would like to see him do more Schubert. The energy and excitement poured into these pieces by Taddei and the orchestra paces and leads, uplifting and captivating you entirely. This was a truly unforgettable second half.

Swing Into Spring Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra and The Rodger Fox Big Band Conducted by Hamish McKeich Michael Fowler Centre, 3rd September Reviewed by Tamsin Evans and Jennie Jones

This was something completely different from the NZSO but the combination of the orchestra, the Rodger Fox Big Band, and guest trumpeter Allen Vizzutti was a toe-tappingly good night. Wellington was the third performance on the nationwide spring tour and the audience was treated to a great selection from the tour programme. It would be easy to assume the subtler tone of the orchestra would be dominated by a dynamic set of jazz players but the opening piece, North to the Apricots by John Rae, was a stunning performance and opened everyone’s ears to how the band and the orchestra could complement each other.

The rest of the programme was a combination of the familiar and the less well-known. The Red Zone by Matt Harris was commissioned for the tour and managed to evoke both the energy of the earthquake and rebuild and the strange tranquility that is the abandoned area of the city. It would be interesting to know how this is received in Christchurch. West Side Story Suite was belted out with enthusiasm by everyone on stage and was enthusiastically received by the audience.

Vizzutti played both flugelhorn and trumpet, producing an astonishing variety of sound from each. Memorable moments included Oblivion by Piazzola (arr. Vizzutti), a mellow performance with the tune shared between flugelhorn and flute. The virtuosic showpiece was Fire Dance, Vizzutti's own composition with Tyvik. This was an impressive demonstration of trumpet technique and the toe-tapping rhythms that ran through the whole programme.

Orphans Written by Lyle Kessler Directed by Stella Reid BATS Theatre, 30th Aug Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Set in North Philadelphia, Orphans follows siblings Phillip (Jimmy O’Donovan) and Treat (Andrew Paterson) as they attempt to get by after the death of their mother. With no father in the picture, Treat is forced to resort to petty crime to provide for his vulnerable younger brother. Tired of living on mayonnaise, Treat befriends and kidnaps Harold (KC Kelly), a ‘businessman’ from Chicago. After wiggling out of his formidable bonds (thin twine and his own tie), Harold turns the tables around and shifts the dynamics of the household dramatically.

What struck me the most about this production was not only the brilliant performances of each cast member in turn, but the superb realism of the set (Olivia Clarke-Edwards). I do not mean here that the set was made to look exactly like a dilapidated lounge; I mean that there was a great deal of clutter. We saw pearls rolling across the floor, whisky and bouillabaisse spilling, things breaking, actors dropping things, rugs slipping, and lamps wobbling precariously. To me, Orphans felt so real as a result of this messy and grotty picture.

The lighting (Rory Hammond) served to further illustrate the grim hopelessness of this world, particularly when in its ‘dull wash’ state. Occasionally a dramatic shift would occur mid-scene, for instance vivid green illumination. I found these changes in state to be unnecessary and distracting.

It is absolutely refreshing to witness a play that is not saturated in exposition. Orphans is beautifully written, and brought to life with outstanding talent and commitment by this incredible cast.

No Post on Sunday Presented by Everybody Cool Lives Here Directed by Isobel MacKinnon Running at Circa Theatre until 10th Sep Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

No Post on Sunday is a devised work by Everybody Cool Lives Here. As Director MacKinnon states, the show has been designed to challenge perceptions of what’s possible for people with intellectual disabilities and to spread the message of integration and inclusion on a national scale.

A small New Zealand town, Smithville, is the setting of our story. The world, designed by Meg Rollandi, consists of cardboard constructions, cubbyholes, mail bags, blinds, and vibrant colours. It is brought to life by Smithville’s Post Office Director David Stanley (Duncan Armstrong) in a charming opening scene to a quirky soundscape by Rowan Pierce.

Dimensions are toyed with and have no boundaries; ultimately, this is a space for exploration, imagination, and play.

Harry (Jacob Dombroski) is our consummate postman, suave, hard-working, and kind. We could all stand to be a little more like Harry. He keeps his cool when things go wrong, and is a devoted friend to his boss David. Both Dombroski and Armstrong perform beautifully, their chemistry utterly moving.

Wendy Martin (Nicholas Smith) is our no-nonsense reporter, leading investigations into missing mail and missing humans with blunt force and hilarity. Barnaby Olson and Andrew Gunn lend support, playing the Mayor and an eco-artist respectively, and a host of other townspeople collectively.

It is clear that these cast members have an infinite amount of love and respect for one another. This is perhaps what has created such a touching and lovely story – the ensemble believes in community, making it possible for us to do so too.

Bad Moms (R16) 200 mins ★ ★ ★ Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Bad Moms is a film about three overworked and underappreciated mums, Amy (Mila Kunis), Carla (Kathryn Hall), and Kiki (Kristen Bell). Tired of the societal pressure that motherhood entails, the trio decide to ditch their responsibilities and cut loose. Binge drinking, booty calls, and mild acts of vandalism ensue before Amy decides to run as PTA president against ‘supermom’ Gwendolyn (Christina Applegate) and her hoity-toity crew.

If you’re in the mood for a trashy comedy with the girls, Bad Moms is a great option sure to make you laugh until you nearly cry. One scene featuring a hug between Carla and her affection-starved son may even make you melt a little. Short of that, Bad Moms doesn’t really offer anything, although it certainly pretends to.

Excessive exposition and cringeworthy slowmo sob shots turn this otherwise hilarious movie into something that tries too hard to mean something.

Bad Moms highlights the undue pressure put upon mothers to be absolutely perfect in this day and age. One scene in which a bake sale is ‘policed’ (as goods cannot contain wheat, sugar, flour, eggs, nuts, butter, or anything else that constitutes cake) hits this home particularly well. Amy’s struggle to find balance as a working, (almost) solo mother of two is also enough to send this message. We do not need to see her crying in slow motion to believe that life is difficult for her, or for any other mother.

That being said, Bad Moms features some uproarious moments. Kathryn Hall in particular is glorious and will have you in hysterics from the get-go.

Don Giovanni Directed by Alex Galvin Conducted by Simon Romanos Running at Hannah Playhouse until 27th Aug Reviewed by Emily Sharp

The Eternity Opera Company presents Mozart’s Don Giovanni with flair, really playing true to the perfect balance of comedy and tragedy that the opera entails.

I was very excited to be able to attend the final dress rehearsal of the opera. We were introduced with the standard explanation that as this was a dress rehearsal, notes and changes may be directed. Further to say, the majority of the singers would not use their voices to the full potential to save them for opening night. This did not mar the performance at all, and I would have liked to have attended again to listen to the difference!

The cast was magical and the audience very receptive. I found Jamie Henare’s Leporello to be a crowd favourite; his charisma, comedic timing, and sense of the character are not to be missed. Even though he is supposed to be companion to Don Giovanni, it seems to almost be the other way around! Barbara Paterson was absolutely magnificent as Donna Anna. Her performance was definitely a highlight. Watch out for her in scene three for Or sai, chi l’onore – extremely chilling and unforgettable. I should also like to see Emily Mwila perform again – what a perfect Zerlina!

My only note would be that I was surprised that the costumes, particularly the female ones, were not of higher calibre and didn’t seem to fit as well as they could have. I think that it certainly would have added more to the performance as a whole if they had paid more attention to detail here.

Ladies in Lavender Written by Shaun McKenna Directed by Annabel Hensley Running at Gryphon Theatre until 27th Aug Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Ladies in Lavender is set in a small Cornish fishing village in 1937 during the Great Depression. It follows Janet (Amanda Brown), whose fiancée never returned from the First World War, and her younger sister Ursula (Lottie Butcher), who has never been in a relationship. Janet and Ursula live a peaceful, structured, and unremarkable life. That is, until a Polish violinist by the name of Andrea Marowski (Joshua McGowan) washes ashore after a violent storm.

The set of this Wellington Repertory Theatre production is quite remarkable. The stage is divided into five fixed sections which each represent a different room or location. From bedroom to beach, garden to kitchen, piano to ocean, the conceptual and practical effort that has been put into creating this world is to be applauded.

To me, Ladies in Lavender speaks primarily of emotional repression. The performances of our two leading ladies are a wonderful testament to this theme. Brown is prim and proper, her pursed lips clearly indicating that having feelings is neither ‘the English way’, nor is it ladylike. Butcher’s performance is touching and emotive. This juxtaposition leads to poignant interactions – watching Janet soften her resolve towards Ursula throughout the play is particularly moving.

Dr Mead’s (Colin Eade’s) lovable attempts to suppress his infatuation for the elegant and independent Olga Danilof (Julie Dykes) further this theme, while housemaid Dorcas (Christine Hunt) simply shouts obnoxiously (and hilariously) every time an emotion is expressed.

McGowan is the perfect fit for our 6 foot ‘godlike’ Andrea – his performance is swoon-inducing and absolutely charming.

MOM – Meet Our Mum Presented by Whitireia Theatre Devised under the mentorship of Richard Dey BATS Theatre, 10th Aug Review by Madelaine Empson

Mom – Meet Our Mum is a devised work by the third year Applied Arts students of Whitireia Theatre. It covers a plethora of issues and confronts the apathy of modern day society. Ultimately it is a brave creation, intense, dark, and gritty in nature.

Mom features a mixed-bag of scenes: some are remarkably compelling whilst others do not quite resonate in their intended manner. Nevertheless, each scene is united beautifully under an overarching theme. It is exceedingly difficult to piece together acts that vary so wildly in both nature and delivery and still deliver a sense of cohesion, meaning, and poignancy. This achievement is to be commended.

In this production, Mother Earth is onstage at all times, draped in plastic bags which suffocate her. Although Finn McCauley’s embodiment is captivating, in my opinion the metaphor would have been more effective had we only seen the character once.

Standout moments include a profoundly moving African chant by Makuei Aken; an uproarious childbirth enactment by Penrose Simons; and the ingenious incorporation of Samoan language, as realised by Kasiano Mita and Ashleigh Waters. ‘Pasty News’ presenters Becca Hughes and Chadwynn Tohu deliver knockout performances, but I do feel that their scenes would have had more impact had they ended after one particularly grotesque (and thoroughly desensitising, but excellent) moment featuring a bucket.

The same can be said of a few other scenes within the production: whilst I loved the reintegration of certain characters and motifs, I think that if the script was refined and condensed, Mom would be an exceptionally powerful work.

Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike Written by Christopher Durang Directed by Susan Wilson Running at Circa Theatre until 3rd Sep Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike follows siblings Vanya (Gavin Rutherford) and Sonia (Rachel Henry) as their disappointing and uneventful lives are interrupted by the return of their sister, glamorous Hollywood movie star Masha (Emma Kinane). With toy boy Spike (Simon Leary) in tow, Masha plans to sell the family home, only to be deterred by part-cleaner, part-fortune teller Cassandra (Erina Daniels). Matters are complicated further when sparks fly between Spike and Nina (Harriet Prebble), the proverbial girl next door.

This production features an absolutely outstanding cast. Whilst Sonia’s consistent complaints and doom-and-gloom attitude are frustrating to behold, Henry brings lovability and charm to the character – a feat I would not have thought possible. The chemistry between her and Rutherford is delightful, particularly during the opening scene.

Leary is hilarious as the narcissistic looker Spike. His reverse-striptease is quite possibly the theatrical highlight of the year thus far. Trust me on this.

Whilst Daniels’ performance at first seems a little unbelievable and melodramatic, once over the shock, the audience delights in her extravagance. Daniels savours every line, garnishing each word with a flick of the pelvis, a shake of the buttocks, an interpretive dance, and occasionally a flourish of a magical stick.

Kinane is a natural onstage, expertly conveying a wide range of emotion and (mal)intention with one simple look, intonation, or gesture. Prebble brings a very different dynamic to the cast; a sweetness that softens the overall tone of the piece and lends much-needed vulnerability to the characters around her.

In this day and age, it is a very difficult task to put on a production that is genuinely enjoyable when, in true Chekhovian style, none of the characters are particularly likeable and plot wise, nothing really happens. This challenge was gloriously met by both the cast and crew of Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike.

Suicide Squad PG-13 130 minutes ★ ★ ★ ★ Reviewed by Emily Sharp

So we’ve all been following Suicide Squad since photos of Jared Leto sporting florescent green hair were leaked. The hype and marketing surrounding the movie has been over a year long, and as all of us Wellingtonians have seen – intense and unavoidable.

Banded together by a chaotic evil U.S. intelligence officer, a group of meta-human misfits have to save the world. Something to listen out for here is the soundtrack to which they do it to.

We’ve all seen the wardrobe, the makeup, the tatts and the questionable grill, but once you see Leto pull it all together, bringing his own suave and manic energy, you will not be disappointed. He is the highlight of the entire film – you’ll see what all the fuss is about (brace yourself for the laugh and the eyes).

Will Smith as Deadshot carries the film and seems to flesh out a lot of the shortcomings of the other characters. His comedic timing is particularly well played. Suicide Squad as a whole is a lot funnier than we are initially lead to believe, but seems to rely a lot on Harley Quinn’s cutesy crazy girl gimmicks.

I was disappointed by the way that the film overdramatised the relationship between The Joker and Harley as ‘crazy in love.’ I would have liked to have seen them expand more on the emotionally abusive side of the relationship that is explored in the graphic novels and comics. This would have added more depth to their characters.

Seriously though, go and see Jared Leto as the Joker for yourself. I’ll be going again, just for him.

Julian Bliss & NZTRIO Presented by Chamber Music New Zealand Thursday 28th July Michael Fowler Centre Reviewed by Emily Sharp

Julian Bliss, considered one of the world’s most remarkable and notable solo clarinettists, is joined by the esteemed NZTRIO: Justine Cormack on violin; Ashley Brown, cello; and Sarah Watkins, piano to create a truly divine enchantment.

Bliss was seamless, akin to his reputation and deserving the title of renowned clarinettist. I always think that the cello, clarinet, piano, and violin have so much fun together. Dreamy yes, but the instruments seem to whimsically enjoy one another’s company, and this seemed true of the players as well. I was particularly enamoured by Watkins; I have never seen a pianist perform so. Her gentle flourishes made the music even more soft and real within the air.

The commissioned piece by Ross Harris for the players was unforgettable. There May Be Light linked beautifully to their following piece by Messiaen. Harris adopts use of multiphonics within the piece, creating an enigmatic, ethereal quality. Akin to Messiaen’s spiritual obsession and message in his pieces, but instead of his staunch proclamations, Harris creates a softer, curious approach.

As always, what an extravagance is Messiaen. Bliss and the NZTRIO bring a fervent joy to the pieces, Bliss explaining beforehand that not only is Quartet for the End of Time a pleasure to listen to but also a pleasure to play. The range of skill required to play such unconventionally composed pieces was showcased with perfection.

The audience was seemingly overcome as the group received a standing ovation from some and a very loud exclamation of applause from all.

Legendary Divas Written by Ali Harper Running at Circa Theatre until 20th Aug Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Legendary Divas is a show starring New Zealand’s “diva in her own right” Ali Harper, with Michael Williams on the keys. It is dedicated to the women who have inspired us with their music, and honours these women through song. A natural-born performer, Ali sings everybody from Shirley Bassey, Dusty Springfield, and Barbra Streisand to Julie Andrews, Doris Day, and Edith Piaf with grace, sparkling charisma, and immeasurable talent.

Ali is absolutely captivating on stage, impersonating the greats with respect and reverence whilst still letting her own light shine. The setting is intimate, the audience mesmerised, and her passion palpable.

Michael Williams holds his own against this spectacular figure, engaging in cheeky banter with us between songs and delivering a heartfelt solo piano performance during a costume change. At times Michael plays along with multi-instrumental tracks, adding new dimensions to each song, and at times accompanies Ali solo. These moments are when the chemistry between these lifelong friends positively fizzes, and their respective and collective talent awes us all.

Ali eases into audience interaction towards the end of the performance, and audience members seize the opportunity. The room fills with joy and laughter as we are allowed the opportunity to belt out our favourites alongside this wonderful woman, although we certainly ‘couldn’t hit the notes’ quite as well as she could.

Legendary Divas was just wonderful. The time simply flew by and the audience was left invigorated, inspired, and wanting more. I am an Ali Harper fan for life now.

Bloody Hell Jesus (Get Your Own Friends) Written by Lucy Craig Directed by Jane Yonge Young and Hungry Festival of New Theatre Running at BATS Theatre until 30th July Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Bloody Hell Jesus (Get Your Own Friends) follows the friendship of high school students Shelly (Sophie Coomber) and Lauren (Nora Maarleveld). Think as thieves since kindergarten, Shelly and Lauren look set to ride off into the sunset of BFF bliss – that is, until Lauren becomes a Christian.

Coomber gives a gorgeously grounded yet quirky performance as Shelly, a girl with a burgeoning sense of self who idolises her best friend above all else. Maarleveld portrays the righteous and self-assured Lauren effortlessly, discerning the nuances of her character with depth and maturity.

The chemistry between the pair – both as actors and as scripted characters – is stirring. Shelly is quiet and shy. Lauren is loud and confident. Both have conflicting morals and values; Shelly dislikes Christians, because Lauren did too before she became one.

Lauren’s Christian friends, Bindi (Bella Cook – remarkable, particularly during a hysterical breakdown), Rob (Zakary Boven – who commits to singing terribly with absolute glee), and Tim (Matthew Savage – simply delightful), rock the boat significantly.

The friendship is tested further still by metal-head Eric (wildly talented musician Andy Gartrell), and by Shelly’s blossoming infatuation with Drew (a cool and collected performance from Chris Watts).

Bloody Hell Jesus (Get Your Own Friends) is a charming tale that captures the struggles of adolescence, and the existential crisis, brilliantly. This production, wonderfully produced, designed, and performed, was a great start to the festival.

Like Sex Written by Nathan Joe Directed by Samuel Phillips Young and Hungry Festival of New Theatre Running at BATS Theatre until 30th July Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Like Sex is about exactly what you think it is – sex. In a series of episodic scenes, it follows the turbulent relationships of 7 teenagers as they explore their sexuality, desires, and primarily, themselves. Like Sex is described as being “for anyone who has ever been young and confused.” This description is absolutely, unequivocally correct.

Like Sex features some of the best transitional work I have seen in a very long time. Every element of every transition is so well thought-out, so beautifully rendered, that each one feels like a scene (and a work of art) in and of itself. During these transitions, actors reveal nuances of their characters with a subtlety that does not detract from the progression of the script.

There are no standout performers – each actor commits wholeheartedly to their character, and as an ensemble they work as one.

Matt Loveranes’ set, however, is a standout feature of this production, and indeed of the festival as a whole. The decision to use actors to portray everything from lampshades and teacups to wardrobes is ingenious. It allows actors to shine where they would normally be offstage and furthers the strength and unity of the ensemble. The overall sense of seamless cohesion that Like Sex achieves is testament to this brilliant set. The fairy lights in particular are a beautiful touch.

After the show, a friend and I discussed how moved we were by the way Like Sex portrays non-consensual sex. Using lamps to highlight the distance between two characters despite their intimacy is an affecting move; one that is sure to make it easier for people to understand that one doesn’t have to say “no” to mean it.

Dead Days Written by Owen Baxendale Directed by Debra Mullholland Young and Hungry Festival of New Theatre Running at BATS Theatre until 30th July Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Dead Days follows Max (Morgan Hopkins) as he attempts to break away from his family and chart his own destiny. Max’s father Mr J (Will Collin) is a mortician who desperately wants his son to take over the family business. Max is studying overtime when his clients start coming back to life in order to offer him advice and companionship.

The opening of Dead Days is exceptional. Featuring a birthday party for one, clever scripting, and calculated comedic timing, Hopkins hits this scene out of the park. Unfortunately, it seems that he was not expecting such raucous laughter from the audience at this point. This resulted in some corpsing (unintentionally breaking character by laughing), which also affected other cast members throughout the play. Here’s hoping this issue was resolved after opening night jitters faded.

Dead Days features some excellent performances. Born-natural Felix Ovens-Leach plays Max’s best friend Andy with charm and charisma. Together with Hopkins he expresses the difficulties of teenage relationships (both between friends and other people’s girlfriends) ably.

Although Jamie Wallace-Thexton’s set is striking and effective, the use of this set is baffling and untenable during transitions. Gurneys are wheeled around for what seems like an age during a semi-blackout, only to emerge in a slightly different position that doesn’t seem to have any bearing on the setting of the next scene. Transitions in this piece stunt the progress of the script immensely and are rather frustrating to watch.

That being said, Dead Days is a good standalone piece. Unfortunately, it just doesn’t hold its own against Bloody Hell Jesus (Get Your Own Friends) and Like Sex.

Grimm Bedtime Stories Directed by Lori Leigh Presented by PlayShop Circa Theatre, 19th Jul Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Grimm Bedtime Stories is an improvised show designed for children aged 5-12. It centres around Sophie (Freya Daly Sadgrove) and James (Barney Olson), two children who do not want to go to bed. Driven by boredom and curiosity, Sophie and James summon the Brothers Grimm (Callum Devlin, Isobel Mackinnon, and Oliver Devlin) to tell them a better bedtime story than their mother can muster.

After a delightful game of Sophie Says, we are treated to a retelling of the ever-popular Hansel and Gretel. Children’s pictures (drawn by the wee audience before the show) significantly shape the story. This is a clever tool – given the boundless capacities of a child’s imagination, this rendition of Hansel and Gretel features a house with no windows on the first storey, and thus bumbling family members who frequently stub their toes; a crockpot filled with lamb chops, crème brûlée, and an entire roast-human; and an enchanted forest that yells “Tom was here”.

Later we see a blue scientist, a flying potato, a five-faced lake pig with no friends, and many other wonderful imaginings. The improvisers elicit and handle these suggestions with enthusiasm, never once batting an eyelash, and always offering the children (very well-received) praise and encouragement.

The kids absolutely loved it. A young boy sitting next to me, who was very nervous about attending his “first ever play”, was shouting suggestions and bouncing with glee by the end of the show. Another audience member sprinted up and down the aisles multiple times, clearly unable to contain his delight.

Capriccio Presented by Orchestra Wellington Michael Fowler Centre, 16th July Reviewed by Emily Sharp

Orchestra Wellington with conductor Marc Taddei brings us three rich pieces from Strauss, including his ‘final word’ on opera, Capriccio.

We begin with Festmusik der Stadt Wien – an explosive piece showcasing Strauss’s favouritism to brass, which Taddei highlights wonderfully.

The spirit of the next piece, Metamorphosen, is in stark contrast. Taddei brings the sentiment of this piece to sombre life; I will admit the air of the centre was still. A grief stricken piece, in which the strings are utterly engaging, Metamorphosen brought the audience and orchestra together in solidarity. Luckily we have the interlude, well-timed to gather our thoughts.

And to Capriccio itself! We are treated to both the Prelude and the Final Scene with Anna Leese as Soprano. What a wonder she is, absolutely stunning as Countess. Prelude is fun and at times whimsical as it portrays a love letter of sorts to the Countess. I enjoyed watching Leese get in character as she joined the sextet on stage toward the end of the piece, as if listening to ready her response.

Her enthralling performance brought to life all aspects of the Countess’s infamous question, “Is it the words that move my heart, or is it the music that speaks to me more strongly?” Unfortunately we never find out, as she is then called to supper, gaining an appreciative chuckle from the audience.

The White Guitar Written by Fa’amoana John Luafutu, Matthias Luafutu, and Malo Luafutu Directed by Nina Nawalowalo and Jim Moriarty Hannah Playhouse, 28th Jun Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

The White Guitar tells the true story of the Luafutu family, chronicling their journey from Samoa to Auckland and Christchurch in the 1950s in search of a better life. Featuring renowned hip hop artist Scribe (Malo) alongside his brother Matthias and father Fa’amoana John, this deeply personal work speaks of the power of redemption.

Matthias and Malo perform beautifully, interspersing their own stories with their father’s in a seamless and proficient manner. Both actors bring something quite different to the table: Matthias vigour, passion, and force; Malo cheek, spark, and instinct. The resulting chemistry is both balanced and palpable, and an absolute pleasure to behold.

The White Guitar concludes with a live performance of Not Many, Scribe’s breakthrough, chart-topping single. After hearing Malo’s story, Not Many spoke volumes, taking on new layers of meaning. Listening to it contextualised was an almost transformative experience – the audience was absolutely thunderstruck and the applause deafening.

I do not think I have ever seen anything as powerful as a father sitting on stage while his sons express the hardships they faced growing up with him. What grace, strength, courage, and humility this man must possess to listen to his mistakes night after night in front of a live audience. Gently strumming his own white guitar, his head hung, Fa’amoana’s presence is something we are profoundly aware of throughout The White Guitar. It is something we cannot forget today – something unequivocally moving that changes the game entirely.

Sir Andrew Davis: Illuminations Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra, NZSO National Youth Orchestra Conducted by Sir Andrew Davis Michael Fowler Centre, 8th July Reviewed by Tamsin Evans and Jennie Jones

As one would expect from an ensemble of 123 musicians directed by Maestro Sir Andrew Davis, this performance of Messaien’s last work (he never heard it performed) had some of everything. The stage was packed with musicians – the first time the NZSO and the NZSO Youth Orchestra have played together. There was a wide range of instruments, some rarely seen or heard, such as the bass and contrabass clarinets, alto flute, piccolo trumpets and a great array of percussion including several sets of tubular bells and gongs, cymbals, and drums.

In 11 movements we heard bird song, extraordinary diversity of rhythm and tone from both the percussion and other instruments, some gorgeous harmonies, and a mixture of techniques drawing maximum textural effect from the strings. A brief introduction from Sir Andrew made sense of the birdsong in the ninth movement Various Birds in the Trees of Life. The score, he explained, has none of the usual bars marked that enable players to stay in time with each other. He had devised a system with the orchestra and held up the appropriate number of fingers to indicate where they were so they finished the section together.

The eighth movement, The Stars and the Glory, showed off the sheer array of sounds available to the composer. It involved every player and every one of them played to their best. The illumination of the beyond really shone through the sustained strings of the final movement, Christ, Light of Paradise.

Stage Kiss Written by Sarah Ruhl Directed by Ross Jolly Running at Circa Theatre until 30th Jul Reviewed by Susan Allen

Stage Kiss centres around two actors played by Danielle Mason (She) and Peter Daube (He), who are reunited through a play after having a love affair 20 years previous during another production. The play they find themselves in, a mediocre 1930’s drama called The Last Kiss, brings to surface old feelings.

Playwright Ruhl plays with several concepts: what is real and what is acting; the validity of a kiss on and off stage; and is simulating emotion on the stage the same as actually feeling it? She produces chuckle-worthy moments when the chemistry is not there, and meaningful ones when it is present.

The first half of the play is light and immensely enjoyable with hints of deeper meditations. The second half takes a more serious tone and doesn’t quite produce the cathartic response that it is after. However, it remains amusing.

The undisputed star of the play is Mason. She treads a line throughout the story of being her ‘real’ self and the character she is playing. She does this tact. This is clearly a demanding role and Mason more than rises to the occasion, as does Daube. Humorous yet masculine, Daube is ideal as He, countering Mason perfectly.

While the play at times may fall short of expounding on the deeper meanings it strives for and sits on the fence between deep and meaningful and comedic, it is an entertaining production due to great direction by Jolly and a stellar cast.

Suyeon Kang & Stephen De Pledge Presented by Chamber Music New Zealand Michael Fowler Centre Sat 2nd July Reviewed by Emily Sharp

Kang, on her winner’s tour of the Michael Hill International Violin Competition, joins New Zealand’s own internationally acclaimed concert pianist Stephen De Pledge for an absolutely enthralling performance.

The constant themes among the pieces were romantic, with cheery undertones of spring, merriment, and joy amidst trying times. This is true to the composers of the era whom Kang and Pledge both pay transparent homage to. Along with adding a vivaciousness to these pieces, their character creates an unforgettable concert.

I cannot seem to praise them both enough. Michael Angelo hinted that he felt his sculptures were within the marble waiting to be set free. I liken this analogy to both players, as it was as if the music was coming from themselves rather than their instruments; that they were using their tools to carve out the music from the air.

The two pieces that stood out to me were Kang’s solo, and the final piece. Kang was startling but riveting, the piece captured you entirely, and the whole audience seemed to feel the same way as there was a definite chill in the air.

The final pieces were some of Stravinsky’s humorously hectic dance pieces, nodding toward Tchaikovsky’s own. After ecstatic applause, De Pledge joked “Just to calm everyone down a bit…” and gave us a beautiful encore. Serene and light, it sent the audience happily on their way into the crisp Wellington evening.

La Casa Azul – Inspired by the writings of Frida Kahlo Written by Sophie Faucher Directed by Lyndee-Jane Rutherford Running at Circa Theatre until 23rd July Reviewed by Susan Allen

Taking on Frida Kahlo is no small task: she is an iconic figure that many love and admire – to most the story of her life is very familiar, and any production based on her must bring something new to the table.

She was a woman of strength and intensity, and a play based on her writings has the potential to delight immensely or dismally disappoint. This production was a success in every way, largely due to the outstanding performances from the play’s two lead actors, Kali Kopae and Gavin Rutherford, who play Kahlo and Rivera respectively. It also brought to light that Kahlo was not only a brilliant artist but a captivating writer as well.

Kopae’s resemblance to Kahlo is uncanny and her delivery brings the audience fully into the turbulent life Kahlo lived, particularly the physical pain and tumultuous love story between her and Rivera. Essentially, if you go to this production only to see Kopae’s spellbinding performance, it would be worth every penny.

Also, La Casa Azul uses puppetry and masks, largely through actress Bronwyn Turei (who plays multiple characters), in a fascinating and meaningful way. For example, Turei wearing a death mask follows Kahlo throughout the story. This adds a literal representation to the shadow of death that Kahlo herself felt accompanied her. The interactions between Kahlo and the death character are poignant.

Finally, Director Lyndee-Jane Rutherford and set and costume designer Ian Harman deserve accolades for portraying this dynamic woman in a bold, visually arresting production that in itself is a piece of living art.

Hotel Europa Written by Goran Stefanovski Directed by Anna Marbrook Te Whaea National Dance and Drama Centre, 22nd Jun Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Hotel Europa was created by seven theatre directors in response to the Syrian refugee crisis. In this Toi Whakaari graduate production, we see live action, music, multimedia, and dance as we are taken through multiple countries and histories. Various scenes featuring multiple characters play out, devised under the common theme of displacement and the desire for home.

Unfortunately, to me, Hotel Europa seemed more like a series of devised performances than a production. Although some clever conventions were used to string scenes together, such as projection and multimedia, watching this piece felt as if I was watching an assessment. All of the scenes were too absurdist and abstract to say much – audience members around me seemed to be struggling to understand the meaning of it all.

Although the production as a whole had a sense of cohesion, the scenes themselves varied so wildly that a common theme was not enough to unite them. Delivery was often over the top, and I would have liked to have seen more moments of stillness and silence for the sake of balance.

Some outstanding performances featured however, in particular Ella Gilbert’s Circe, Roving Reporter, and Daughter. Thomas Clarke’s Boyfriend and Igor too were exceptional.

The overall design of Hotel Europa, facilitated by Kasia Pol, was stunning. With a moody and dark atmosphere, cold, powerhouse lighting, and an otherworldly plastic curtain divider, Pol’s design lifted the game of the production substantially.

Dying for it Written by Moira Buffini Directed by John Bolton Te Whaea National Dance and Drama Centre, 20th Jun Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Moira Buffini’s dark comedy Dying for it tells the story of the disheartened, hungry, and unemployed Semyon (Jimmy O’Donovan). After a trivial marital spat – over a sausage – with his new wife Masha (Georgia Pringle), Semyon vows to commit suicide, only to discover that a number of people would like him to die on their behalf.

Bolton has brought his training in the Jacques Lecoq style of clowning to this Toi Whakaari graduate production. The results of this are an interesting and dynamic range of performances – some students appear to have taken on the practice with great gusto, while others perform in a more naturalistic manner.

Melodramatic performances (particularly those of Ariadne Baltazar, who plays Sister Yelpidy; and Samuel Austin, who plays intelligentsia Aristarkh) are never overwhelming. This is in large part due to Pringle’s gorgeously understated, effortless performance.

Other standout performers include Batanai Mashingaidze, who plays Masha’s mother Serafima brilliantly, particularly when obsessing over a custom-made hat; Ana Scotney, whose thick Russian accent as Margarita is thoroughly alluring; and Grace Bentley, who plays winner of the People’s Choice Award for best postie, Yalyena.

O’Donovan is wholly believable as our humble hero. With impeccable comedic timing and a whopping amount of natural talent, O’Donovan is the centre point of this piece, and not just because his character is.

The entire cast and crew of Dying for it is to be commended. It is clear that a huge amount of effort and passion has gone into this production, and it has certainly paid off.

Mana Wahine Created by Taane Mete, Tai Royal, Malia Johnston Presented by Okareka Dance Company Circa Theatre, 21st Jun Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Mana Wahine is an all-female dance work that draws strength from traditional Māori mythology. It is inspired by the true story of Te Aokapurangi, a young maiden from Rotorua who was single-handedly able to save her people from an opposing tribe. Her courage, determination, and fearlessness resounds throughout Mana Wahine, as does the strength of all women, past and present.

What first must be said is that Victoria Kelly’s musical score is absolutely, incomparably astounding. Tui Matira Ranapiri-Ransfield’s gorgeous karakia and voice ebb and flow throughout, perfectly matching the intensity of each dance movement. The synergy between the choreography and musical composition is unrivalled by anything I have ever seen before.

Consider the above in conjunction with Rowan Pierce’s groundbreaking AV design, Tracey Collins’ understated yet striking set design, Elizabeth Whiting’s graceful and poignant costume design, and Vanda Karolczak’s flawless lighting design, and you have the most synchronous and capable design team that you will likely encounter.

The dancers, Emily Adams, Jana Castillo, Bianca Hyslop, Maria Munkowitz, and Nancy Wijohn, communicate their ancestry and intimate experiences with such grace and bravery. Their bodies tell personal stories, and yet move us to make our own interpretations. A particularly powerful scene is one in which a black hoop skirt transforms each dancer. To me, this movement spoke of the many roles that I am expected to conform to as a woman in today’s society.

Mana Wahine is world-class, five-star, trailblazing work.

Scheherazade Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Miguel Harth-Bedoya Michael Fowler Centre, 17th June Reviewed by Tamsin Evans and Jennie Jones

This was a popular programme of Romantic pieces opening with a delightful rendition of Kodály’s most well-known work, Dances of Galάnta. Guest conductor Miguel Harth-Bedoya directed without a score, which gave him full use of the podium for an exuberant and animated performance, matched by energetic and responsive playing by the orchestra.

Soloist Johannes Moser took the stage for Lalo’s Cello Concerto in D minor, and gave us a dramatic interpretation of this piece, playing the long solo sections with an obvious power and intensity contrasting with sensitivity and lightness. An encore of the Sarabande from JS Bach’s Suite No.1 in G major was a beautifully restrained performance, with a sound almost reminiscent of a viol rather than a cello.

The second half of the concert was a thoroughly enjoyable interpretation of Rimsky-Korsakov’s exotic fantasy, Scheherazade. The instrumentation features skillfully shaped phrasing, rich sound, strong changes of tempo and style, dramatic climaxes, and multiple opportunities for the section principals to demonstrate their skills. None of them disappointed. The virtuosic violin solos were accompanied by an immaculately timed and perfectly judged harp. Directing once again without a score, Harth-Bedoya was a man in control of masterful musicians and clearly enjoying himself.

Among the audience were many much younger than usual. Perhaps this was a reflection of an accessible programme and the fairy tale content of Scheherazade but, whatever the reason, it’s good to know performances like this will mean future audiences for the NZSO are assured.

De Sade Written and Directed by Alexander Sparrow The Cavern Club, 3rd Jun Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

De Sade is a one-man show in which Alexander Sparrow portrays the infamous Marquis De Sade, a French aristocrat, philosopher, and writer known for his libertine sexuality. De Sade was incarcerated in various prisons and asylums for roughly 32 years of his life. In this show, we are allowed a glimpse into one hour of his life behind bars.

Despite the innate sexual nature of De Sade, Sparrow manages to create a safe space. Although audience members are initially wary of the actor, given the fact that he begins the show stark naked, drinking wine straight from the bottle, and scratching his back with a riding crop, we soon loosen up. After all, according to De Sade himself, nothing is taboo.

Sparrow is initially nervous, but soon relaxes into his character. Snippets of comedic genius begin to emerge as his interactions with the audience prove his improvisational capacities. Asides, mutters, and throwaway lines are a highlight, particularly when used in a metatheatrical sense. “In my cell there’s just me, these walls, and these inexplicable 70 chairs” is a particular favourite moment of mine.

Clammy, nervous members of the audience become delightfully raucous as Sparrow’s banter continues to push boundaries – but never too far. As De Sade, Sparrow strikes a delicate balance between freedom of expression and intuition; knowing how much is too much, knowing when to stop, and yet still holding fast to the truth of his character.

In short, if a door represented conservatism, Sparrow would knock politely before breaking it down.

The Elephant Thief Written by Justin Lewis and Jacob Rajan Directed by Justin Lewis Hannah Playhouse, 18th May Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

The Elephant Thief follows small-town girl Leela Devi (Vanessa Kumar) as she navigates through a ravaged future in India. In this dystopian world, all manner of people – from Prime Ministers and organ harvesters to secret agents and spaceship commanders – are in pursuit of Leela and her late father’s elephant, Balthazar.

Kumar performs in an effortless manner despite the time she has clearly put into understanding and embodying her character. Humble yet striking, bumbling yet graceful, hers is a standout performance.

Kumar is supported by Julia Croft, who plays Russian secret agent Irina Sharma; Nisha Madhan, who plays Prime Minister Sonia Ambhardi brilliantly, as well as a range of other characters; and Jonathan Price and Patrick Carroll, who each play multiple characters.

Croft’s physicality and comedic timing is glorious, whilst Madhan moves from character to character in a seamless, chic manner. Carroll brings great gusto and fierce commitment to every role he plays. However, having seen some of the work that Price has been involved in, I can state with complete conviction that he is underutilised in The Elephant Thief.

The music, composed and directed by David Ward, and executed by Adam Ogle (and various members of the cast), connects extraneous elements within the world of the play to create a sense of cohesion.

Although the puppet maker responsible for the elephant is not listed in the programme, full credit to them. They have created a masterful, beautiful work of art.

Indian Ink’s aim is to “make theatre that is beautiful, funny, sad, and true.” The Elephant Thief has achieved just that.

Baroque to Broadway Directed by Thomas M Nikora Saturday 14th May St Andrews on The Terrace Reviewed by Emily Sharp

Newly appointed Cantoris Choir musical director Thomas M Nikora opened his first show Baroque to Broadway tremendously. The repertoire was a delight, and very well complemented by the talent of the choir and performers. I honestly thought it couldn’t have been better put together, and was amazed by the Cantoris Choir’s ability to perform works throughout the ages so beautifully.

Nikora gives such joy composing; he made me smile throughout the performance, especially in the Broadway numbers as he acted and lip-synced along to the pieces while composing. With such an obvious love and vivaciousness, he seemed to bring a whole new personality to the choir, who bounced off his energy.

Vivaldi’s Gloria was exquisite. I particularly enjoy Vivaldi, so it was a treat to have it performed so. The conversion between styles was perceptibly well-timed with the interval, and was lead in with renditions from many notable musicals in chronological order.

I was extremely impressed with the Soloists from Te Koki NZ School of Music, Pasquale Orchard, Alexandra Gandionco and Elyse Hemara. Keep an eye out for them – I would happily watch them perform again.

All in all, Baroque to Broadway was an absolute delight. Nikora’s debut was very well-received, and I look forward to seeing what he does next.

The Great Maiden’s Blush (M) 108 Mins ★ ★ ★ ★ Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

The Great Maiden’s Blush is a drama about single mothers Aila (Renee Lyons) and Bunny (Miriama McDowell). Both having just given birth, the women strike up a precarious friendship whilst recovering in the antenatal ward of Wellington Hospital. Aila and Bunny hail from very different walks of life; the former is a gardener and pianist, whilst the latter is a drag-racer in prison for manslaughter. However, both women have a crippling secret.

Just as the narrative of The Great Maiden’s Blush weaves together the past and present, cinematographers Alun Bollinger and Waka Attewell entwine stunning shots of natural cycles, barren landscapes, drag-racing, and operatic performances. Although it may sound jarring, the juxtaposition of this cinematic imagery is in fact ingeniously symmetrical to the contrasting themes within the film – of love and heartache, motherhood and loss, and truth and deceit.

Lyons and McDowell are both gifted performers whose chemistry is as captivating as the film’s slow plot reveal.

Supporting actors Carl Drake and George Fenn, (who play Aila’s lover and his nephew respectively), lend vulnerability and depth to Lyons’ character whilst delivering striking performances themselves. Barnie Duncan and K.C. Kelly, (who play Bunny’s love interest and his father respectively), deftly explore the dynamics of the father-son relationship. Kelly’s performance in particular is astounding and gut-wrenching.

Prison guards Ian Lesa (another of Bunny’s love interests), and Gavin Rutherford add yet another layer to the intricate film; Lesa plays infatuation in a swoon-inducing manner, whilst Rutherford’s ‘bad cop’ routine suggests more than meets the eye.

Written and directed by Andrea Bosshard and Shane Loader, The Great Maiden’s Blush is masterfully crafted and beautifully-rendered.

Shu’s Song Created by Laura Gaudin, Rachel Callinan and Gina Moss Presented by Capital E Hannah Playhouse, 16th April Reviewed by Susan Allen

Shu’s Song is a delightful production suitable for children of all ages. Set in a home office, we follow Shu, played by creator Laura Gaudin, on a journey powered by imagination. Shu is a non-descript figure, with a cardboard box head and grey clothing. Shu is neither male or female and has no identifying features, which allows each child to identify with Shu and use their own imagination in regards to who Shu could be.

While initially Shu is very timid, we see Shu’s transformation from nervously investigating objects to becoming more confident and creating friendships within a magical world of play. The young audience relished this endearing character, laughing and enjoying Shu’s experiences. The production also showed how play can become meaningful and emotional at times. Essentially, for a child, the world of imagination and play is a very real one.

It is a hard task to accurately present the inner workings of a child’s imagination, but Shu’s Song accomplishes just this, making it intriguing not only for children but parents as well. Every component of the play works together harmoniously. Jason Wright’s sound composition captures the mood of each moment, and puppeteers Jon Coddington and Rachel Baker excel at making objects such as lamps and a telephone integral parts of the story arc.

Overall the show is a fascinating piece of children’s theatre. Although, at an hour in length it can be difficult to keep every child mesmerised, the play offered well-timed effects like confetti, balloons, wild winds, and a living and dancing wardrobe to keep the audience captivated.

Brahms & Beethoven New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Edo de Waart Michael Fowler Centre 16th April Reviewed by Tasmin Evans and Jennie Jones

Lilburn, Festival Overture. Brahms, Concerto for Violin and Cello in A minor Double Concerto. Beethoven Symphony No.3 in E-flat major Eroica.

This was a varied programme and the latest in the series of Edo de Waart’s Masterworks series. Douglas Lilburn’s Festival Overture was a lively and joyful piece and a rousing way to open the evening. The orchestra was joined by the soloists for the Double Concerto and both the cello: Leonard Elschenbroich and violin: Nicola Benedetti, are introduced to the audience within the first few moments. Technically demanding and complex, the music asks a lot of the soloists. Both played with enthusiasm and responded well to each other, joining forces to span the full range of each set of strings.

Beethoven’s Eroica Symphony is described in the programme as ‘music that still proves as exhilarating now as the day it was composed’, and this was a performance to match the programme notes. The orchestra took direction from Maestro de Waart and they all very clearly enjoyed every minute. The strings played with an energy that was visible and tangible, the brass and woodwind, especially the oboe and flute played impeccably by the section Principals, Robert Orr and Bridget Douglas respectively, were lively and precise.

The whole combined to start impressively and travel through the movements, from a bold opening, to the intensity of the funeral march in the second movement and the dance-like third movement, all the while gathering momentum and power to reach a dramatic finale. As a fellow audience member described it, this was a very enjoyable and ‘muscle-y’ performance.

Les Talens Lyriques Chamber Music Directed by Christophe Rousset 13th Apr Michael Fowler Centre Reviewed by Emily Sharp

Christophe Rousset directs whilst on harpsichord; Gilone Gaubert-Jacques and Gabriel Grosbard on violin and Atsushi Sakai on viola da gamba - Les Talens Lyriques brings us to the heart of French Baroque music. A magnificent rendition of the embodiment of the era, close your eyes and open them at Versailles.

The pieces themselves were short, with varying notes from sombre to brisk but always delightful. The different emotions and attitudes portrayed by harpsichord and strings, were more varied than one would expect. The melancholy obviously familiar, the lively pieces rich but the trendy and jaunty pieces put a smile on my face, I’ll admit I found myself nodding my head in time with the tune more often than not!

Watching Rousset lead while playing was a fascinating experience; I enjoyed observing them play just as much as I did to listen, as they had their eye on Rousset more than their sheets. It was a curious thing to follow the communication of subtle head movements, eye contact and expressions paired with the passion of their play.

After the second half of the show the pieces were introduced in French, indeed it doesn’t break the spell as by this point you are imagining them in 16th century garb but, I would have liked to have known the context - perhaps in school I should have paid more attention to my professeur.

This honestly is a beautiful show and I would highly recommend getting whisked away by the Versailles Experience.

Joyful & Triumphant Written by Robert Lord Directed by Susan Wilson Running at Circa Theatre until 7th May Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Joyful & Triumphant is an incidental epic by Robert Lord which chronicles forty years of the Bishop family’s Christmas Day meals and rituals. Each scene juxtaposes the mundane with the poignant, as tables are set and roasts are cooked whilst familial relationships unravel over the decades.

Lyla (Jane Waddell) is the matriarch of the Bishop family, consistently dedicated to cooking the perfect Christmas feast and getting her husband George (Peter Hambleton) out of bed to do his chores. Their daughter Rose (Michele Amas) is a budding author who has lived at home her whole life, having recently lost her fiancée in the Second World War. Rose’s brother Ted (Gavin Rutherford) is a no-hoper who can’t seem to hold down a job, much to the dismay of his wife Brenda (Katherine McRae). For some reason, their rebellious teenage daughter Raewyn (Lyndee-Jane Rutherford) doesn’t appear to want to spend Christmas Day with her family.

Meanwhile, the Bishop’s haughty next-door neighbour Alice Warner (Catherine Downes) can never seem to leave a room without passing judgements on all of its inhabitants.

Lord’s Joyful & Triumphant is at once heartfelt and hilarious, and this 40th anniversary production does it great justice. Due to a minimalist set and cleverly-wrought thrust stage by John Hodgkins, the audience is free to focus on the action which ensues around the Christmas Table.

Each and every cast member displays expert craftsmanship, commitment and comedic timing in their performance. Collectively, their efforts have resulted in a production which is – quite literally – both joyful and triumphant.

Mahler, Symphony No. 3 in D minor Presented by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Conducted by Edo de Waart Michael Fowler Centre, 2nd Apr Reviewed by Tasmin Evans and Jennie Jones

Mahler's longest work opened with a mass fanfare from the horns, sitting amongst a huge orchestra joined by a choir of boys and women. This was a big performance in every sense. The first movement was long but filled with energy, some of it from low brass, the double basses, percussion and sometimes woodwind, with several series of upward rushes from the strings. The trombone solo was a clear and expressive standout.

The second movement contrasted well with the first, with the strings conveying the pastoral idyll, and a delicate and melodic solo violin. The woodwind was also to the fore. The memorable feature of the third movement was the off-stage flügelhorn (a masterful demonstration of concentration and coordination by conductor and soloist) and the shimmering string sound that surrounded it.

The fourth movement brought us the voice of Charlotte Hellekant, rich and strong over sustained strings. The short fifth movement opened with the boys' voices, their 'bimm-bamm' echoing the bells, a little overpowered by the orchestra but sung with enthusiasm.

Some may have thought Edo de Waart took things too far with the final movement. His programme notes make no secret of his passion for the work, as he states: "The first is the greatest movement ever written, as is the final movement." At the same time both expansive and intense, he drew ever more from sound and emotion, clearly reflecting the first movement and taking his musicians and the audience close to the edge but never beyond it.

Blue Bearded Lady Written and Presented by Pipi-Ayesha Evans BATS Theatre, 30th Mar Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Blue Bearded Lady is a one-woman performance by Pipi-Ayesha Evans that retells Barbin’s fairy-tale Bluebeard. In it, circus theatre, aerial dance, stilts, storytelling and partial nudity intermingle to create a show unlike any I have seen before.

According to folklore, Bluebeard is an aristocrat who has been married several times to women who have all mysteriously vanished. In Blue Bearded Lady, this character is portrayed by a teddy bear puppet named Blue who “likes big boobs”. Evans transitions from silent-ventriloquism interactions with said bear to direct address and aerial dance to tell her story. Reality frequently, foggily entwines with fantasy: we are never quite sure if we are witnessing truth or fiction.

Considering that Bluebeard is a dark, bloody and uncommon fairy tale, it is a bold decision to not only base your performance work on it, but also to tell it in an autobiographical manner. It’s a brave gamble, and it pays off.

In one breath, Evans’ performance was seductive yet disturbing, graceful yet jarring, unequivocally captivating and above all, absolutely fearless. Transitions were handled seamlessly, the carefully considered music adding a powerful dynamic that served to tighten the overall sense of cohesion.

Evans conveyed such raw intensity, passion and emotion through her movement that at times her dialogue was double percussive. This is my one critique: I acknowledge that dialogue is wholly necessary in telling the story of Blue Bearded Lady. I do however believe that the script should be abbreviated. I hope that Evans realises that she is a profoundly talented circus performer, and that she is able to speak a thousand words through aerial dance.

Jekyll & Hyde Created by A Slightly Isolated Dog Directed by Leo Gene Peters Running at Circa Theatre until 16th Apr Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Jekyll & Hyde is a devised, interactive production by award-winning theatre company A Slightly Isolated Dog. In it, 5 very sexy French people reimagine Stevenson’s classic tale Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, and invite us to “let a little of our evil out to play”.

Many of the conventions established in last year’s smash hit Don Juan were again utilised in Jekyll & Hyde, and this time with much improvement. A Slightly Isolated Dog have again managed the incredible feat of creating non-threatening interactive theatre. This time, their programme states: “If you just want to sit and watch, you can. Just tell us ‘no’ or shake your head when we come to you.” This disclaimer is well thought out, very considerate and furthers my admiration for the company.

Last year’s publicity stated that Don Juan “questions our repression and domestic anxieties: our desire to be bold and fearless…” Jekyll & Hyde on the other hand did not claim to be didactic. In fact, at the end of the show the cast openly struggled to find the morality of the story they had just told us. I found this incredibly refreshing: we were just there to be entertained, and this freedom caused us to relax into what rapidly became an immersive, uproarious experience.

Jonathan Price, Hayley Sproull, Andrew Paterson, Jack Buchanan and Susie Berry are astronomically talented performers. Blair Godby’s sound design was so brilliant I think he might be an actual wizard.

This was the most fun I have ever had at the theatre.

Reimagining the Classics Chamber Music NZ presents Uri Caine & NZ String Quartet Michael Fowler Centre, 20th Mar Reviewed by Emily Sharp

Being made to wait a few minutes, the expectant hum is lifting and sets the scene. Caine introduces each of the pieces, always with a playful explanation of how he came about the process. His playfulness on the piano also encourages chuckles from the audience, enjoying the marriage of jazz and classics.

Uri Caine joins the NZSQ for a magnificent match; the unbridled passion and distinct skillset complement each other but particularly the pieces they have reimagined. Caine’s undertones of jazz are predominant and weave beautifully with the grace and liveliness of the quartet.

The intimate communication between Caine and the quartet is shown with energy and enjoyment throughout the show. The emotional ebb and flow of the music is thrilling; the improvised pieces teem with moments of eerie translucent visages, familiar classics have expertly imagined twists and of course the jovial jazz interpretations will take you by surprise.

The Goldberg Variations interpretation was not to be missed, being a particular highlight of the show. Vivid and ethereal, the group’s enthusiasm and emotion within the piece transformed it even to a critical ear, this being a personal favourite of mine.

The end pieces have even more energy than the entire show, seemingly over-exciting everyone involved; the group receive a standing ovation and a much extended applause. This seems to encourage Caine further, who after having left the stage returns to give us a delightful encore which leaves everyone buzzing.

Café Müller/The Rite of Spring Choreographed by Pina Bausch Presented by Tanztheater Wuppertal Pina Bausch St James Theatre, 17th Mar Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

A pedantic older woman bustles onto the stage. Frantically, she notes the arrangement of chairs and tables in the empty café as if it is of the utmost importance. She shuffles hurriedly, worriedly around the stage, exiting as quickly as she came. Nervous laughter escapes from the audience in the darkness. Dead silence emanates, and so begins Café Müller.

Ghostly spectres float around the stage, blindly, as if sleepwalking. Still the world is silent as they collide with mirrors, caressing them with unrivalled elegance. Prolonged moments of stillness grow into scenes of frenzy, as seemingly meaningless sequences are repeated with a growing sense of urgency. Henry Purcell’s haunting opera begins to play as a suited man moves chairs out of the path of a hopeless romantic who has just been shown that love is dominance, not equality. Café Müller is an evocative, melancholic work – a vision, astonishingly executed.

“I thought, how would it feel to dance knowing you have to die? The chosen one is special, but she dances knowing the end is death.” – Pina Bausch.

In The Rite of Spring, primeval villagers must choose a female sacrifice to bring about the end of winter. A carnal, vicious battle of the sexes takes place on a stage layered with dirt to Stravinsky’s orchestral score.

Bausch’s masterful choreography expresses the entire spectrum of human emotion. Tanztheater Wuppertal Pina Bausch is ferociously dedicated to this legacy. Never before have I seen an ensemble convey terror, lust and sorrow in one heartbeat, nor have I seen electricity surge through every onstage body. Together, this ensemble is one.

Wolf Written by Tim Barcode Directed by Sam Fisher Running at Bats Theatre until 24th Mar Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Wolf is a play set in Avonside, Christchurch in late 2010, then post 22nd February 2011. It follows a group of unlikely flatmates as they attempt to rebuild their lives in the aftermath of both of Christchurch’s devastating earthquakes. The play aims to bring about awareness of what life was like after the quakes, and to prepare us for “not if, but when, the earth suddenly snarls and bites Wellington.”

Ali (Pip O’Connell) is a woman struggling to pay her mortgage after some structural damage affected her home in the first quake. Enter new flatmate Mike (Ryan Mead), a perpetually angry (for no apparent reason) man who works for the Earthquake Commission. As Ali already lives with Lee (Hugh Parsons), her late daughter’s boyfriend, and Cushla (Talia Carlisle), his current flame, the house soon becomes a little crowded. Tension begins to fly when their Wiccan next door neighbour Cassie (Susannah Donovan) is forced to move in after the second quake destroys her home.

Wolf did not adequately convey the message it intended to. The cast (with the exception of Donovan and Parsons, the former whose character called for a zealous performance), acted in a melodramatic fashion when it was not necessary to do so. Their overplaying meant that the highest point of tension in the play fell on deaf ears.

The references to the wolf too were over-explicit and needed to be woven into the script with more care and subtlety. Whilst I understand the intention behind Wolf, unfortunately both the script and the performances were in need of refinement.

Cineastas Written and Directed by Mariano Pensotti The Opera House, 10th Mar Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Cineastas is a production that revolves around four filmmakers in Buenos Aires. The stage is innovatively split in two; on the bottom half, we follow the stories and creative processes of these filmmakers, and on the top, we watch the product of their process unfold.

Cineastas moves a mile-a-minute. The audience certainly has to work hard to engage with four stories (eight if you count the films themselves) playing out simultaneously, all told at breakneck pace in Spanish with minimal translation.

Although we are given English subtitles, a lot of the script is lost in translation. The narration is performed by each cast member – Horacio Acosta, Javier Lorenzo, Vanesa Maja, Juliana Muras and Marcelo Subiotto – in turn, and is always translated. However it often occurs instantaneously with dialogue, thus we miss most of the conversations that occur between characters.

I am immensely curious then as to how someone fluent in Spanish would perceive the production as a whole. We are only given a very shallow look into the motivations and psyche of the characters – were they each in fact beautifully written, carefully crafted masterpieces, or were they deliberately underdeveloped? Was Pensotti commenting on the fact that we remember the work, not the creator, by only translating a fraction of the dialogue?

It is well-worth the effort of attempting to follow the various streams of this production; the pay-off is sensational. Cineastas explores themes of immortality, identity and expression in a playful, brilliant and deeply moving manner. It is simply exceptional.

Layman Written by Patrick Carroll Directed by Anya Tate-Manning Ivy Bar, 2nd Mar Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Layman is a one-man show about birth and discovery, created and performed by Patrick Carroll. The piece was originally presented as a solo performance for the 2014 Toi Whakaari Go Solo season, where it was picked up and produced by Show Pony. Now developed into a 50 minute performance, Layman made its debut at the Wellington Fringe Festival.

Carroll begins this captivating production in the foetal position. His face is entirely hidden beneath layer upon layer of malleable clay, which his naked body too is caked in. The effect of this is disquieting; it is not until a radiant smile that we warm to this earthen creature.

We watch as he is born into the world, cooing and infantile. With mesmerising awe he begins to explore both himself and his environment, moulding and distorting his facial features with each new phase of his existential crisis.

Carroll is a remarkable performer who holds the audience’s unwavering attention through moments of prolonged silence. His physicality is striking, his commitment tireless, and his self-expression courageous.

I did feel that Carrol’s exploration of sexual identity occasionally bordered on gender-stereotyping. I am here referring to the scene in which a new pair of breasts caused him to act in a hyper-sexualised manner, but a large penis bestowed him with more power. Although I understood these moments to be ironic, I think that more obvious subversion was needed to avoid causing offense.

Layman is deeply carnal in nature, disturbing and delightful in one breath, and absolutely, unequivocally engrossing.

The Vivien Hirschfeld Season of The ACB with Honora Lee Written by Kate De Goldi Adapted and Directed by Jane Waddell Running at Circa Theatre until 26th Mar Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

The ACB with Honora Lee is a production about the special bond 9 year old Perry (Lauren Gibson) forms with her gran Honora Lee (Ginette McDonald). In the early stages of memory loss, Honora resides in the Santa Lucia rest home, where her frosty demeanour simultaneously charms and distresses the other residents. When Perry is relieved of her weekly tennis duties and is instead allowed to visit Honora every Thursday, the two begin to rub off on each other. Language is the key to their budding relationship, and language is the thread that weaves Perry’s family together.

In this production, Gibson expertly captures the wide-eyed innocence of a child, whilst McDonald’s endearing performance proves her phenomenal talent as both an actor and an empath; her connection and commitment to her character is awe-inspiring. Put the two actresses together and the resulting chemistry is profoundly moving.

Amy Tarleton and Nick Dunbar, who play Perry’s mum and dad respectively, add great depth and charm to the production as a whole. Michele Amas and Simon Leary too bring charisma to the ensemble, all members of which perform multiple roles with ease.

Imaginative and delightful sketches (drawn by Romi O’Sullivan, storyboarded by Stephen Blackburn and produced by Jason Longstaff) grace the AV screen during transitions, causing bouts of glee and giggles amongst the audience. Sound design by John McKay adds another dimension to these moments, helping us to gain insight into a child’s mind. Unified, these elements gently tug the heartstrings of young and old audience members alike.

The ACB with Honora Lee is a touching story, beautifully rendered on stage.

The Glitta Supernova Experience: Let’s get METAphysical Written and Directed by Glitta Supernova Fringe Bar, 28th Feb Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

The Glitta Supernova Experience is a cabaret that knows no bounds. Staring self-described sex clown Glitta Supernova, Let’s Get METAphysical is a multi-disciplinary work about being a woman in today’s society. The autobiographical cabaret is an amalgamation of burlesque skits, absurdist theatre, film, multi-media, storytelling and performance art. The result of this is an explosive feminist work with a “pro body, pro sexuality and pro humanity agenda.”

There is no doubt that Glitta is a dazzling performer with a progressive sense of sexuality. We need more people like her in our performance industry; people who have no shame, no filter, and who aren’t afraid to get a little frisky (and a lot naked) onstage. In a society that consistently alienates sexually empowered women, Glitta is a force to be reckoned with.

For this reason, Let’s Get METAphysical is a vital work, and Glitta Supernova is a crucial part of the female struggle for sexual liberation. However, this fact was somewhat lost in the haphazard structure of the show itself.

All of the elements of a brilliant production were there, but Let’s Get METAphysical simply did not come together due to its complete lack of cohesion. As an audience we were flung from one story to another, with no idea of the relevance or chronology of each segment. It seemed to me as though film was used to disguise costume changes rather than for its own merit, as each clip screened seemed entirely irrelevant to its preceding and following scenes.

Unfortunately, although I engaged with Glitta’s message, I could not engage with the chaos of The Glitta Supernova Experience.

A Play About Space Written and Directed by Uther Dean Space Place, Carter Observatory, 12th Feb Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

A Play About Space is, unsurprisingly, set in space. Space Captain Florencia Dreggs (Hannah Banks) and her comrade Warner Hornshaw (Paul Waggot) are appointed by four-armed Joy (Alex Greig) to retrieve a mysterious box from a zombie-infested spaceship. When the box escapes their grasp, and Warner is held to ransom, Captain Flo embarks upon a mission to retrieve both the box and her delightful (albeit mildly inept) colleague. And all the while, the cardboard-armed, ominous crab-like Khalkalari are in hot pursuit…

Presented by theatre collective My Accomplice, and written and directed by the incredibly gifted Uther Dean, A Play About Space is a low-fi, high-octane sci-fi production. And it is supremely excellent.

My Accomplice’s collective energy and flawless comedic timing has always captivated me. Their minimalist attitude makes for extremely authentic works, and A Play About Space is no exception to this rule. However, this time we are treated to a stunning planetarium light show, courtesy of Becky Bateman. Though the starry sky does amp up the game a little, it does nothing to detract from the electric connection that these phenomenal actors have with each other. I truly believe that My Accomplice is the best ensemble in Wellington.

My only critique of A Play About Space is that, as I was laughing so noisily and relentlessly, I missed a few golden one-liners. However, I hardly think that this is anyone’s fault but my own.

Last Meals: A Nine Course Buffet Written by Keely Meechan Directed by Ben Emerson BATS Theatre, 9th Feb Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Last Meals: A Nine Course Buffet follows nine women on death row as they consume their final meals before execution.

Starring Hannah Kelly (Hamburger), Keagan Carr Fransch (Birthday Cake), Ellie Stewart (Salami Stick), Georgia Latief (Plum), Karen Anslow (Sunday Roast), Lucy McCarthy (TicTac), Jean Sergent (Spaghetti Bolognaise), Trae Te Wiki (Dog Food) and Jessica Old (Pinot Noir), and directed by Ben Emerson, Last Meals: A Nine Course Buffet, is a series of monologues in which characters are named only after the last meal that they request.

The monologues that resonated deeply with me were the ones in which the actors performed in an understated and natural way, lending believability and vulnerability to their characters. Anslow, Carr Fransch, Sergent and Old delivered phenomenal, effortless performances, with Old being the stand-out actor of the evening. Although she certainly did not perform in a naturalistic manner, Te Wiki bought huge depth and energy to the ensemble. Her performance was absolutely spectacular.

I would have liked to have seen a little more subtlety and refinement in the other performances; at times they were over-delivered and thus overwhelming for the audience. It seems that Emerson chose to emphasise the theatrically appealing, but less convincing intentions and tendencies of these characters. The ensemble work too often felt a little double-percussive, although it certainly had moments of brilliance.

However, as a first work, Last Meals is an astounding achievement. Meechan’s script is beautifully crafted, and there is no doubt that she is a remarkable writer. And what an outstanding ending!

Spring Awakening Written by Frank Wedekind Directed by Keagan Carr Fransch and Samuel Phillips Bats Theatre, 27th Feb Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Spring Awakening is a play about the struggles of adolescence, written by Frank Wedekind in the late 1800s. Aptly subtitled “A Children’s Tragedy”, the play centres on challenging themes of sexual awakening, coming of age and sexual abuse.

Coming into Spring Awakening with absolutely no frame of reference, I found myself captivated by the staging decisions made in this particular production. Keagan Carr Fransch and Samuel Phillips chose to realise the script in a magical-surrealist vein, creating an ethereal environment that was above all enchanting.

Lucas Neal’s ingenious set and costume design (in which an entire world is created by a simple strip of bark chips and adults are introduced as intrepid explorers), Janis Cheng’s mystical lighting design and Oliver Devlin’s otherworldly sound design combined to create a colossal synergy that was impossible to avert your eyes (or ears) from.

This synergy was furthered by Tom Clarke’s riveting performance as an omnipresent butler and intense dreamlike silences between cast members. Acushla-Tara Sutton in particular performed as Ilse with a charisma and grace that was mesmerising to behold.

Brynley Stent’s zealous performance as Wendla felt slightly out of place in a cast of characters (played by Riley Brophy, Josh Cramond, Karin McCracken and Fran Olds) so otherwise unhappy and reserved. However, this juxtaposition served to further enhance the ideas expressed within Spring Awakening of light and dark; of the unnatural nature of glee, and of a world that demands innocence, but simply does not allow it.

Handel's Messiah New Zealand Symphony Orchestra and the NZSO Messiah Chorale Conducted by Nicholas McGegan Michael Fowler Centre, 12th Dec Reviewed by Jennie Jones and Tamsin Evans

From the outset, it was clear that expectations were high; the audience had come to hear a much-loved choral masterpiece, and the smaller than usual number of performers would have been pleased to see the near capacity crowd.

Conductor Nicholas McGegan and the baroque sized NZSO opened with an immaculate sound, perfectly balanced to the point that every part was clearly and distinctly audible. Steve Davislim sang the first recitative and aria with an assured and suitably dramatic performance, followed by the first chorus, “And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed.” Recognising that with such an opening their expectations were going to be met, the audience settled in for the performance.

James Clayton sang his recitative with conviction and great control, and was followed by the first aria from Sally-Anne Russell. Her style was more lyrical than the other voices, and she sounded a little swamped – almost as if she was a part of the orchestra. Although she improved throughout the performance, her rather more relaxed approach set her a little apart from all the other singers. Anna Leese did not let down her many admirers. The soprano started well and sang beautifully all night.

Special mention must go to the Messiah Chorale, a collection of the best choral singers the city has to offer. A great deal of individual and collective work clearly took place in rehearsal, for they were near-perfect. Mark Dorrell must have worked hard with them; they sang cleanly and with great precision, delicacy and energy. The quality of their diction, tone and emphasis was extremely high. It would be difficult to name a favourite, but the sopranos stood out in particular. The tenors also did a sterling job, despite the fact that they were substantially fewer in number than the other sections.

The man who drew performances of such quality from his musicians, Nicholas McGegan, seemed to be the one enjoying himself the most of all. His whole body style of conducting, almost dancing at times, was as engaging for the audience as for the singers and the orchestra. He displayed a very fine judgement of the silences as much as the music. The lengths of the pauses between movements served to accentuate the drama and heighten the audience expectations.

The sound felt like true baroque, the harpsichord adding greatly to this, and you would be hard pressed to find a better demonstration of baroque trumpet than what we heard from Michael Kirgan in Part III.

The audience loved the whole piece. Quick to their feet for the Hallelujah Chorus, they were even quicker to rise for a standing ovation and several rounds of applause. As a sign of how engaged we were as an audience, you couldn't ask for more.

Gift of the Gab Directed by Matt Loveranes Bats Theatre, 21st Nov Reviewed by Madelaine Empson.

Gift of the Gab is a devised one-man show performed by James Cain. In it, a denigrated Alan Rickman falls prey to an entertainment monster and agrees to trade souls for his former fame. He must be thwarted, and none are more perfect for the job than Ian McKellen and Gab, a humble cinema-worker who is most unenthused with Rickman’s blockbuster comeback Chubby.

What fun it is to attempt to describe the plot of this production! As farfetched as it may seem, somehow the storyline made perfect sense. Despite being performed by one man, who hopped between multiple characters with boundless energy and impeccable comic timing, the plot was not only coherent but also deeply absorbing.

Cain’s impressions were uncanny; in particular his imitations of Alan Rickman left nothing to the imagination. Moving deftly from McKellen to Rickman and back again before swooping to Colin Firth and even to Gollum, Cain performed with immeasurable flair and gusto.

What impressed me the most about this production was its cohesiveness as a whole; each technical element worked in perfect harmony with the next. Devlin’s sound design in conjunction with Cain’s projection design and Ruscoe’s light design created a veritable goldmine of dynamism when put together. The masterful entwining of these elements in the devising process (wrought by Cain and Loveranes) created an exceptionally high standard of production.

Gift of the Gab is a hilarious, joyful and very clever show that I personally think should somehow make its way to Alan Rickman and Ian Mckellen. No doubt they would love it.

Take a Chance on Me Presented by the Wellington Repertory Theatre Directed by Ewen Coleman Gryphon Theatre, 18th Nov Reviewed by Madelaine Empson.

Take a Chance on Me is a Roger Hall tale of six forty-sixty somethings looking for love the second time around. From divorces to infidelity and loveless romances, these strangers have been through it all. We watch as tentatively, they step as a collective into the minefield that is dating in the 21st century.

Upon walking into the theatre, the audience was given popcorn; a lovely touch that made us feel as if we were about to see a romantic comedy at the cinema. This tone was prevalent throughout the performance. In a Woody Allen-esque metatheatricality, much of the story was narrated to us as it was taking place. The result of this was a conversational style of production that relaxed the audience enough to laugh hysterically and noisily where appropriate – which was often!

Boyes, Divett, Leonard, Dowsett, Rogers and Eade play our six immensely relatable focal characters with ease and commitment. Mander and McMechan play Eric and Liz respectively, whilst also both appearing as numerous other figures throughout the play. From flamboyant bartenders to Taiwanese gold-diggers, displaced children and haughty adolescents, these two actors are exceptionally versatile. McMechan in particular deserves recognition for her incredible performance; to me she was the highlight of this production.

Take a Chance on Me is truly timeless in the tales it tells, and in its ability to capture human emotion with authenticity. The Wellington Repertory Theatre have done justice to the work in this charming and charismatic production.

The Keys are in the Margarine Directed by Cindy Diver and Stuart Young Bats Theatre, 11th Nov Reviewed by Madelaine Empson.

The Keys are in the Margarine is a verbatim play about dementia. Compiled out of “dozens of hours of interviews”, and reenacted by six talented individuals via a discreet earphone feed, the authenticity of this piece is astonishing.

As an audience we are told the stories of those afflicted with dementia, their loved ones, and medical and health care professionals in the exact words (intonations, mannerisms, stutters and all) in which they were originally spoken. In rehearsal, the cast spent numerous hours studying filmed interviews so as to adopt the physicality of the people that they embody with absolute truth and precision. The aural feed, which the audience cannot hear but is replicated precisely by the actors, serves as both a vehicle for communication and a groundbreaking verbatim device.

The work that has gone into the composition of this production deserves the highest of praise; dramaturg Simon O’Connor, writer Susie Lawless and writers/directors Stuart Young and Cindy Diver have created a sense of cohesion by interweaving hilarity with heartbreak to poignant effect. Recurrent themes from individual stories are drawn upon and placed in succession to create meaning in a world that lacks sense and justice.

The actors are phenomenal. Clare Adams, Cindy Diver, Julie Edwards, Karen Elliot, Ross Johnston and Will Spicer use a simple but effective costume change to embody a number of different impacted people. Their grace and courage is astounding, as is that of the interviewees.

Collaboratively, the cast and production team of, and contributors to The Keys are in the Margarine have done a great public service. Their efforts have resulted in a thoroughly moving production that raises vital and accessible awareness of Dementia.

Ache Written by Pip Hall Directed by Lyndee-Jane Rutherford Running at Circa Theatre until 21st Nov Reviewed by Madelaine Empson.

Ache is a tale of love, loss and fate set in Wellington, New Zealand 2015. It follows “Man” (Dey) and “Woman” (Lyons) as they navigate through the perils of modern dating and ill-fated timing.

From their first meeting, the chemistry between Man and Woman is electric. She “bums” a ciggie in unconquerable, unreasonably beautiful shoes, and he drinks from a line-up of beers whilst lamenting his current state of affairs. Just when sparks begin to fly, in tromps Man’s girlfriend (Usherwood). From there, Man and Woman have several untimely encounters in which their longing for each other grows.

Topical parodies of hipster cafés are amongst the many highlights of the production, with Buchanan playing pretentious TC “Chef” (and indeed various other male tropes) with great comedic prowess. Usherwood embodies numerous female stereotypes with hilarious comic timing, though perhaps at times pushes them a little too far to the point of cliché.

Dey and Lyons are superstars who manage to both complement and offset each other brilliantly, Dey with subtlety and depth, Lyons with extravagance and poise.

Hall’s script is gorgeously understated and yet still has the capacity to resonate deeply with its audience. Each scene weaves powerful sentiments of nostalgia and loss with comedy and romance effortlessly, and as a whole the script gracefully achieves the perfect balance between funny and moving. And what a pleasure to see a relatable female character with depth in the centre of a production of this scale!

Gifted Written by Patrick Evans Directed by Conrad Newport Running at Circa Theatre until 31st Oct Reviewed by Madelaine Empson.

The year was 1955 when Janet Frame first arrived unannounced on Frank Sargeson’s doorstep. Only partially invited to do so, Janet moved in to Frank’s old army hut without pomp or ceremony. 16 months later, she emerged with the manuscript of her first novel Owls do Cry, and Frank’s life was changed forever. Gifted is a magical, fictional portrayal of these events.

What first must be said is that Daniel Williams’ set design was astounding. Charming and delightful, it offered us a glimpse into Frank’s kitchen and sitting room, with a gorgeous garden centre stage and the infamous hut on the right. This realistic and fully functional set aptly entwined naturalism and the fantastical. Perfectly encapsulating the almost mythical nature of Frank’s perspective, our first and last sighting of Miss Frame is a glorious stage picture; she stands surrounded by hundreds of sheets of billowing paper, cleverly fixed to a wire mesh fence with an almost Janet-shaped-hole in its centre.

Having an ashamedly limited knowledge of the famed encounter that Gifted is based on, I needn’t have been wary that I would not fully engage with the story; it is beautifully realised by an exceptionally talented cast. Andrew Laing (Sargeson) portrays a man half enamoured with and half perturbed by Frame with outstanding subtlety, and captivates his audience with charismatic audacity. Harriet Prebble (Frame) breathes life into a character that is depicted only from another’s perspective (a huge challenge gracefully met), and Simon O’Connor plays Sargeson’s “old mate” Harry Doyle with glee and commitment.

Gifted is at once funny and heartfelt, and a joy to behold.

The Travelling Squirrel Written by Robert Lord Directed by Susan Wilson Running at Circa Theatre until 2nd Oct Reviewed by Madelaine Empson.

Lord’s The Travelling Squirrel is set in New York in the 1980s and follows a young couple as they navigate through the ruthless ambivalence of the entertainment industry. Bart (Waggott) is an introverted writer who is currently employed as a pornographic-magazine editor, much to his dismay. His wife Jane (Sutton) is a wildly successful, stunning soap-opera star who really knows how to work the room. The couple’s dynamics shift dramatically when sleazy bronzed agent Terry (Paterson) grows interested in Robert, a squirrel of Bart’s imagining, and Bart looks like he’s headed for the big time.

Rutherford, who plays the flamboyant, wealthy party-thrower Wally is a crowd favourite who provokes widespread whoops of admiration, particularly in his adoration of the strong and silent sexbomb Daryl (Anderson). Green, who plays Jane’s best friend Julie, is a talented wonder woman who handles her role with flair and outstanding charisma, while Paterson is positively hilarious and Waldron’s performance is engaging, if a little uneven. Sutton and Waggott sizzle with chemistry and their honest and understated performances equalise the extravagance around them, making for a poised and balanced production.

Director Wilson has made some stunning staging calls – her use of overlap in terms of time and space in particular creates a harmonious sense of flow.

Lord’s eloquent work speaks not only of the fickle nature of the entertainment industry, but also of the fickle nature of the human spirit. This brilliant cast play greed, lust and corruption with expert charm and subtlety and their collective performance is a delight to behold.

Stutterpop Written and Directed by Sam Brooks Bats Theatre, 2nd Sep Reviewed by Madelaine Empson.

Stutterpop is an autobiographical account of a young man’s journey through life with a stutter. Renowned Auckland-based playwright Sam Brooks, winner of the Playwrights b4 25 Award, and author of such works as The 21st Narcissus, Goddess and Mab’s Room, tells his story with a raw authenticity in this performance debut.

Brooks allows us a deeply personal glimpse into his life, telling the tales of his past unrequited love interests, boyfriends and struggles by using his own voice in cleverly orchestrated timed scenes. Musician and sound designer Ogle cheekily restricts Brooks’ stage time as his stutter is heightened when he is in the spotlight. Brooks’ bravery in these moments is incredibly moving and a privilege to behold.

When Brooks’ time is up, the brilliant Hambleton takes to the stage to read the rest of the scene, taking cues from him as to the delivery of his lines. These suggestions take both Hambleton and the audience on a wild romp of a journey and delight Brooks, who is evidently impressed with the talented actress’ improv skills.

These storytelling scenes are interspersed with Brooks’ fab lip-syncing numbers, rampant with joy and liveliness and supported by energetic boogie wonders Brown and Fitzgibbon.

What struck me most about Stutterpop was the delicate balance it struck between heart-wrenching and hilarious. It is such an honour to see something on stage that means so much to somebody, and to be able to laugh and cry along with that person. Congratulations Sam on a truly wonderful and touching show.

My Favourite Problematic Produced by Annabella Gamboni Directed by Rosie Cann Ramsay House, 19th Aug Reviewed by Madelaine Empson.

My Favourite Problematic is a verbatim feminist work presented by Titty Theatre Collective. The stories told throughout the performance have come from the group’s blog, which has been open for members of the public to share their experiences to for over two years now, and remains open today. The blog has become a safe place; a place where women can talk about their experiences of love, loss, sexuality, abuse, gender, the patriarchy and identity without fear, knowing that perhaps their stories may make it word for word to the stage someday.

My Favourite Problematic was originally a 2015 Fringe Festival sell-out sensation, and was revived on this occasion as a one-off performance to celebrate Victoria University Women’s Week. Unfortunately having missed the first performance, I do not have any notes to compare the two, but was told in the open forum following the performance that this particular rendition was a stripped back version; less cast members, less choreography, a more intimate space and a shorter script.

The stories told during My Favourite Problematic are stories that need to be told, and I am so inexpressibly glad that someone is telling them. The talented cast (Joblin, Brown, Cornwell-Young, Smith and Murray) handle the dialogue with artistic prowess, speaking always with a mindfulness, respect and kindness towards both their characters and their audience.

Shriley’s beautiful musical accompaniment created an electric charge, and in conjunction with the intimate space and arresting performances made for a significant and emotional evening.

Polish Orchestra Wellington Soloist: Michael Houstoun (piano) Michael Fowler Centre, 8th Aug Reviewed by Garth Wilshere.

Thank goodness for a great Symphony performance to end this concert. The performance of Mussorgsky’s “Night on Bare Mountain” was an inauspicious start. Under the direction of 2015 Assistant Conductor Vincent Hardacker we heard a dull performance. Most of the notes were there and there was a certain precision in the playing, but missing was any excitement, devoid of rhythmic pulse and tonal variety. It just didn’t cut it. Such a dramatically written, colourful work should have guaranteed to catch our attention; on this occasion it didn’t.

Despite good but not outstanding playing from pianist Michael Houstoun, Scriabin’s rather tepid Piano Concerto didn’t really fire either. It has some virtuosic runs, and Houstoun’s pianism in these was strong, but the piece itself is rather indifferent and not one of the great Russian Concertos. I am unconvinced of Houstoun’s affinity with Russian Concerti in general and this lesser piece needs stronger advocacy. Conductor Marc Taddei provided good support from the orchestra for the soloist.

But the concert came to life with a superb performance of Tchaikovsky’s rarely played Third Symphony, “Polish.” Conducted from memory by Taddei, beautifully balanced and shaped, it was one of the best performances I have heard from Taddei. Played essentially straight without mannerisms; it was all the better for that, and the orchestra rose to the challenges with weightier string sound, perhaps influenced by guest leader from the NZSO Vesa-Matti Leppänen and notably fine and brass and winds.

This symphony redeemed the concert, which had started so disappointingly.

Te Koki New Zealand School of Music Opera Double Bill: Purcell – "Dido and Aeneas" Conductor Donald Maurice Ravel – "L'enfant et les sortilèges" Conductor Kenneth Young Director Frances Moore Memorial Theatre Victoria University, 13th Aug Reviewed by Garth Wilshere.

In Purcell’s “Dido and Aeneas” the quality of the title characters, Alicia Cadwgan and Declan Cudd and others varied, but the chorus singing was good, strong and disciplined.

Unfortunately there was no sense of style from the indifferent orchestra under Donald Morris, and sadly Moore’s misjudged stage direction sunk it for me.

A huge disappointment.

In a night of two halves, a big part in the success of “L’enfant et les sortilèges” was the brilliant Ravel score realised in a superb reduced orchestration by Michael Vinten. Under Kenneth Young the orchestra played very well, although a little more verve from Young would have helped.

The opera is the tale of a naughty schoolboy who teases the furniture, objects and forest creatures who come to life to teach him a lesson. He redeems himself when he bandages a squirrel’s hurt paw. It is vibrant and quirky with lots of elements and styles; jazz, dance etc. matched by Collette’s delightful libretto, here sung in English. Throughout there were good vocal performances, with the anchoring role of Katherine McIndoe’s Child, and Olivia Sheat’s Princess the standouts.

There are too many other singers to mention but the many characters brought to life were fun, and visually all were enhanced by imaginative, evocative costuming in an enchanting morality tale.

Directing here was more effective and overall it was enjoyable.

The Hound of the Baskervilles Directed by Ross Jolly Running at Circa Theatre until 29th Aug Reviewed by Madelaine Empson.

In this performance of the Hound of the Baskervilles, Francis’ adaptation of the treasured Sir Arthur Conan Doyle tale is brought to the stage in a strange and compelling way. It’s hard to know whether the decision to have more than one Watson at any given time was made by Francis himself, Jolly or indeed the committee as a whole, but it is certainly an intriguing move that works in more ways than one.

William Kircher, Andrew Foster, Nigel Collins and Gavin Rutherford all collectively play Sherlock Holmes’ beloved sidekick Watson. This results in a rather arresting and dynamic stage picture.

On stage we may see Rutherford embody Sir Henry Baskerville (the last remaining heir to Baskerville Hall) with outstanding commitment but a slightly patchy American accent, while Foster and Collins converse in the foreground as the animated Watson, and Kircher struts about as the refined and renowned Sherlock Holmes.

The scene might then shift in a fraction of a heartbeat to depict Rutherford, Kircher and Foster conversing in unison as Watson with Collins, the soft-spoken but hard-tempered Mrs. Hudson. If we’re truly lucky, we may then even be allowed the absolute pleasure of seeing Foster prance across the stage in ecstasy whilst attempting to catch a butterfly.

There is no denying the work that this brilliant cast has put in to this whipcracking piece. Although at times it is a little overwhelming, their collective performance is engaging and expertly executed.

The Ugly One Written by Marius Von Mayenburg Directed by Giles Burton Running at Circa Theatre until 7th Aug Reviewed by Madelaine Empson.

The Ugly One revolves around Lette, (Brougham) a man who suddenly discovers that he is in fact hideously ugly. So ugly that his own revolutionary invention must be presented to the masses by his more attractive co-worker Karlmann, (Waggott) his loving wife Fanny (Rutherford) can only bare to look into his left eye and his plastic surgeon Scheffler (Rippon) will have to start from scratch if there’s to be any hope at all.

I must say that Mayenburg’s masterfully condensed satire went places that I was not expecting. I was prepared for Lette to become incredibly vain and forget the base purpose of his life, only to turn around, decide he wanted his old face back and emerge from the ordeal as a new and enlightened (albeit ugly) man.

However I was not prepared for a 73 year old glamorous cougar to materialise onto the scene, nor was I prepared for this character to be so expertly embodied by the feisty, talented and sensual firecracker that is Rutherford. I was not prepared for Serano’s set and costume design to be so inspired; so simple and yet so effective.

This New Zealand premiere of The Ugly One is bold and truly charming.

Cleanskin Written by Andrew Clarke Directed by Jessica Old Bats Theatre, 4th Aug Reviewed by Madelaine Empson.

Cleanskin is an existential play that follows young woman Arianna (McCarthy) on her quest to be understood and to understand in turn. Arianna is somewhat disillusioned with her life; her passive boyfriend Brenton (McGowan) never listens to her, whilst her friend Hannah (Halligan) is only concerned with the shallow aspects of their relationship – namely drinking and partying.

Had Clarke’s script been approached in a different way, Cleanskin could have been a masterpiece. I personally found the multiplicity of genres expressed throughout the performance to be jarring.

The script itself is quite surreal; it is metaphorical, filled with beautiful expressive language that yearns to be staged in a manner that is out of the ordinary. This perhaps justifies McCarthy’s theatrical performance, which at times bordered on a melodrama that I found hard to swallow.

Halligan’s performance was so exaggerated it was effectively farcical, and although this can be justified depending on your interpretation of the script and her character, I did not find it enjoyable.

McGowan was the calm naturalist focal point that for me brought the play together. His performance worked beautifully in conjunction with Tilly’s realistic and stylish set, but neither of these elements fit with the script.

What I would have liked to have seen would be an entirely naturalist take on the script, or an entirely surreal and absurdist take. I felt that the performance as a whole did not fully commit to either and what resulted was a confused play that had the exact same identity crisis as its main character.

Or perhaps that is the point?

Old’s lighting design was to me the highlight of Cleanskin and deserves recognition for its stunning simplicity and subtlety.

How to Catch a Grim Reaper Written by Helen Vivienne Fletcher Directed by David Lawrence Bats Theatre, 14th July Reviewed by Madelaine Empson.

In this “horror-comedy-thriller-drama-romance,” Psychology major Tobias (Clarke) has convinced med-student Robbie (Calverley) to assist in the temporary homicide of willing test subject Josh (Boyle) in order to attract and catch the Grim Reaper (Simons and Taurima). Film enthusiast Stacy (Woods) plans to catch it all on camera while everybody tries to avoid Josh’s overbearing sister Mel (Hurley).

The trouble is that nobody really knows what to do with the reaper once they’ve caught it.

Fletcher’s How to Catch a Grim Reaper has the capacity to be very powerful, and at times it is realised to its full potential in this production. In particular Clarke’s expressive performance has moments of great depth and clarity, whilst Bragg’s AV design is absolutely ingenious. However I did find the performance as a whole to be a little too melodramatic and in need of a few moments of quiet and stillness for the sake of balance.

The Presentation of Findings from the First 7500 Days of My Life Done in the Interest of Showing you How to Live Better Lives Written by Uther Dean Directed by Sally Richards Bats Theatre, 14th July Reviewed by Madelaine Empson.

In consideration of my word limit, I shall henceforth refer to Dean’s work as The First 7,500 Days of my Life, and state bluntly that it is brilliant. As the title is relatively self-explanatory, all you really need to know is that Max Addison (Williams) has some pretty important things to tell you.

If other people would stop disrupting her meticulous flow with their individual nuances, or if she was not interrupted by feelings (much to her dismay,) she may have finished her presentation. As it stands, you’ll probably leave the theatre feeling informed and touched regardless.

Williams is the stand-out performer of the festival, and deserves huge recognition for her perceptive, emotionally intelligent and moving portrayal of a woman who struggles with social interactions and prescribed reality. Savage gives a beautiful and humble performance as Max’s younger brother Ash, and the androgynous tone of the script as a whole is innovative.

However, whilst I appreciate that The First 7,500 Days of my Life is offered to us as a presentation rather than a performance, I will say that I found the lack of curtain-call a tad pretentious.

The 21st Narcissus Written by Sam Brooks Directed by Uther Dean Bats Theatre, 14th July Reviewed by Madelaine Empson.

The 21st Narcissus follows 6 people as they interact with strangers and each other over social media, forming friendships, relationships and egocentric attitudes.

On Facebook, two teens (played by Peter Rogers and Adeline Shaddick) stay up all night messaging each other, whilst an intelligent and poetic boy (Oscar Fitzgerald) begins to lose his identity on Tumblr.

On Twitter, three teenage girls (Bronte Fitzgibbon, Isadora Lao and Jane Wills) bond over their love of singing sensation Amber Smence (Cann). After careful consideration and numerous google searches I can confirm that Miss Smence is in fact fictional, and that I probably should have known that already.

Brook’s work is engaging, fast-paced and topical.

Andrew Welsh’s set and AV design is the highlight of this production, and in conjunction with Caitlin Foster’s lighting design makes for a very arresting stage picture. I found Rogers’ performance in particular to be expertly charming, and the commitment and energy of the ensemble admirable.

Sleeping Beauty on Ice St James Theatre, 1st July. Reviewed by Tina McMahon.

It is not common practice to take my 10 & 14 year old daughters to work, but this was an exception! Sleeping Beauty on Ice did not disappoint.

The 21st century interpretation gives us a modern twist on Charles Perraults’ classic fairytale. Gone are the fairies; instead we are greeted by six sisters to Princess Aurora who delight the crowd with their effortless in-sync performances.

Lilac Princess Alina Saprykina (eldest of the sisters) is outstanding. Her blend of grace, strength, spins and confident proficiency showcases her individual talent. Hers was a standout performance.

Carabosse, bearer of evil, is no longer the disfigured old hag normally associated with the character. In her place stands a dark-handsome figure whose use of fire, effortless manoeuvres and aerial swooping at speed had my girls and I fixated on the stage.

There is no longer a 100 year slumber; spindles are replaced by a spiked tonic and the regular tight fitting costumes normally related with this performance are pushed aside for gorgeous layered jewelled outfits which float and glide with the performer.

You are left with a sense of warmth towards each character – special mention is due to the endearing Catalabutte. Along with strong performances from the Queen and King, high octane energy has you on the edge of your seat.

Overall this spectacular, eye-candy performance is for everyone. Whether you are into the technical qualities of theatrical ice-skating or you just simply love to hear the squeals of delight and amazement from your children, Sleeping Beauty on Ice cannot be missed.

Hot Pursuit (M) 87 mins ★ ★ ★ Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Hot Pursuit begins when disciplined Cooper (Witherspoon) the desk-bound police officer is finally given an assignment on the field. Forever blushing with the shame of a past blunder, Cooper is determined to prove herself and live up to her Chief father’s name.

Cooper’s assignment is simply to escort Daniella Riva (Vergara) to Dallas to testify against mega mass-murderer and drug lord Cortez. However, this proves to be a difficult feat when trigger-happy minions burst in and shoot the place down.

‘Armed and sort of dangerous,’ Cooper and Riva flee and are mistaken for criminals. In one of those great moments when one can actually say with complete conviction ‘well, that escalated quickly,’ things get crazy from there.

For some reason, this movie has copped a lot of flak and I think it is unjustified. Sure, the film’s plot is predictable and easy, just as is the (at times) slapstick comedy that emanates from Witherspoon and Cooper’s clumsy interactions and getaway attempts, but what action-comedy’s isn’t?

Perhaps critics had a higher expectation from this film as it’s a largely female dominated production. Co-produced, edited and directed by women, with two female superstar leads, Hot Pursuit was set up in Hollywood’s mind to be a feminist masterpiece.

The fact that it isn’t doesn’t mean it is anti-feminist.

It’s a silly, goofy movie that made me laugh. As long as you don’t walk into the cinema expecting to be mind-boggled, then Hot Pursuit would make for a great ladies night-out.

Yours Truly Directed by Simon Boyes. Running at Gryphon Theatre until 18th July. Reviewed by Madelaine Empson.

Yours Truly – A Jack the Ripper Story – is set in London, Autumn 1888. It follows four unlikely lovers of varying class as their lives slowly intertwine, eventually intersecting with the infamous mass-murderer Jack the Ripper.

As their name suggests they would, Backyard Productions seem to have approached Belz’s script with a minimalist and authentic attitude, choosing to use simply a box, a bed, a desk and two chairs to represent an entire historic world. These items were dimly illuminated in turn, casting shadows into the empty, black abyss around them.

The use of barren space, arresting projections, candlelight and eerie voice-overs in conjunction with exceptionally raw performances seemed to cast an enchantment over the audience. You could hear a pin drop as we watched, breathless, in what felt to us like a haunted space – a captivating place, dark, strange and disturbing.

The cast members had an electrical connection with each other – a piercing chemistry that must come from re-enacting such terrifying events and embodying such horror.

In particular, Gillet gave a chilling and unnerving performance as twisted surgeon Gull. At times I felt myself physically recoil from him and let out an embarrassing petrified whimper, which is a testament to his astonishing performance.

Fitzharris portrayed Marie with a huge amount of charm and charisma, punctuating the darkness around her with wit, sensuality and courage.

Belz’s work is full of heightened, evocative language and commendable character development, and Backyard Production’s performance does it great justice.

Yours Truly – A Jack the Ripper Story is morbidly fascinating and mesmerising. Honestly, I had nightmares.

An Evening with the Modern Māori Quartet Hannah Playhouse, 18th Jun. Reviewed by Madelaine Empson.

The Modern Māori Quartet aptly describe themselves as a handsome Māori foursome who love to croon their modern spin on classic numbers. However, they’ve forgotten to tell us that they are a charming, charismatic constellation of the most ridiculously talented fullas out there. No worries, one minute with them and we’ve figured that out for ourselves.

James Tito, Matariki Whatarau, Maaka Pohatu and Francis Kora are the Modern Māori Quartet, and together they perform a blend of Kiwi and Western Classics, all interspersed with playful banter, fresh perspective and cheeky charm.

It’s not surprising that the members of MMQ are all, first and foremost, brilliant actors. Coincidentally, they happen to be amazing musicians that explode with chemistry whenever they’re in the same room.

During An Evening with the Modern Māori Quartet we were taken on a journey from Haere Mai to Haere Ra, with raucous laughter, ‘the feels’ and Game of Thrones Spoilers along the way – all whilst in complete awe of the immeasurable talent before us.

Their harmonies resonated far past the walls of the Hannah Playhouse, and indeed, Wellington itself. I would love to see these stunners on the world stage representing New Zealand, although I certainly appreciated the intimacy of the evenings’ performance.

I was even blessed with the privilege of speaking to them afterwards, although all I recall from that experience is stammering at James Tito in a star-struck manner whilst grinning stupidly.

P.s. I think it was fairly obvious that Maaka Pohatu was serenading me directly the whole time. Sorry ladies.

NZ Symphony Orchestra 13 June at Michael Fowler Centre, playing Beethoven and Sibelius Conductor Pietari Inkinen Reviewed by Bryony Hales and Rachel Brown.

It was difficult to leave the enthusiasm of the youthful Brass Bandits entertaining the crowds in Cuba St, but we had a date at the MFC, where a full and affectionate audience farewelled the Musical Director of the NZSO, Pietari Inkinen, after 8 years.

There is a certain etiquette observed at orchestral concerts. The players come on stage, take their seats, warm up, tune up, followed by the Concertmaster (the first violin), to applause from the audience.

The tone is set for more disciplined tuning, silence falls, and then the conductor and soloist enter, to more applause. They acknowledge the audience and orchestra, and take their positions, this time for Beethoven’s Violin Concerto in D major.

Karen Gomyo stood straight and still, encircled by the folds of her gown, as the gentle booms of the tympani gave way to sliding woodwind, then rising and falling strings, over which the violin finally entered. One small instrument filled the auditorium, while the orchestra echoed, built and repeated the motif.

The second movement became more contemplative, the orchestra’s notes barely perceptible at times, underpinning the violin’s tunes.

The second half featured Sibelius’ Lemmkainen Suite, less melodic, more atmospheric, with strong rhythms giving musical voice to the legend of this Finnish warrior. Sweeps of sound from the strings were broken by the brass, exploding in bursts of volume, and quieting for the floating swan floating played by the Cor Anglais.

Etiquette was forgotten for the final bows, as streamers arced across the stage and the audience gave a standing ovation to the undemonstrative but well-loved Inkinen.

Spy (R16) 120 mins ★ ★ ★ ★ Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

Contrary to popular belief, Susan Cooper is not a cat lady. She is a well-put together woman who lacks confidence and is stuck behind a desk. This is not a boring office job however, it’s a job in which she’s able to play guardian angel to her suave co-worker, the CIA agent who coincidentally happens to be the love of her life.

When Bradley Fine (Law) is assassinated, Cooper (McCarthy) vows vengeance and flounders onto the field, defying all of the odds set against her. Slamming stigmas, she never once acquires a cat, despite being forced to wear the most atrociously feline-friendly shirt the world has ever seen.

Constantly shadowed by ex-CIA-agent Ford, (Statham,) Cooper must sit through a series of psychotic, hyperbolic rants about male toughness before she can grow her own pair and kick some arse. And kick some arse, she certainly does.

Whilst I’m not normally a fan of Melissa McCarthy’s self-depreciating sense of humour, she shines in Spy, and for once the joke is not on her. It’s on anyone around her that doesn’t realise what an exceptionally kind and talented ‘mother-butler’ she is.

Spy is an ingeniously realised parody of the traditional spy film and tramples all over conventional stereotypes in an uproarious way. I would cut off my right arm and reattach it to my left just to see it again. Not really, I’m just giving you a taste of what you’re in for.

Second Afterlife Directed by Kerryn Palmer and Ryan Knighton. Circa Theatre, 29th May. Reviewed by Madelaine Empson.

Second Afterlife is the tale of an adolescent man who makes a resolution to permanently delete his Facebook account. Dan’s (Hebenton’s) digital mission is no easy feat, and in his attempts to clear his own history, he is sucked into the grizzly and pixelated underbelly of the Internet. Here he must confront his past cyber selves, surfing through forgotten memes and negligible YouTube sensations in a desperate bid to wipe his slate clean.

Playwright Ralph McCubbin Howell is on to a real goldmine in his exploration of how ingrained social media is in our society today, and Second Afterlife is the perfect expression of this discussion. Beautifully written, screaming topical relevance and with masterfully developed characters, Howell’s work is astounding.

This revival of the 2014 Young and Hungry performance does his work great justice. In particular, Anna Robinson’s set design is inspired, consisting of layer upon layer of broken computer screens, VCR tapes, and glitchy, vibrant projections. With the help of Tony Black’s lighting design and Phillip Jones’ idiosyncratic sound effects, the space is transformed into an ethereal digital arena.

This is where the magic takes place. Hebenton performs in a beautifully unassuming and humble manner and is wholly believable. He equalises the fast-paced, highly physical and heightened action around him, (realised with outstanding commitment by Trigg, Staijen, Ensor, Sinclair-Parker and Hansen,) and acts as a Zen focal point that makes his character immensely identifiable. Ultimately, his performance enables the play to strike the perfect balance between real and fantastical.

Lucie Rie: A New Zealand Connection The Dowse Art Museum, Lower Hutt, Wellington. Until July 26. Free entry. Reviewed by Maurice Bennett.

Lucie Rie: A New Zealand Connection is a not-to-be-missed exhibition for lovers of ceramics, modernism, design, and beautiful objects.

In 1938 Lucy Rie fled Austria, emigrating to London, where she set up a pottery studio. She was influential in introducing European shapes and design to British ceramics, which is in contrast to the heavy brown ware of the Anglo/ Japanese style pottery, which dominated the English speaking world at the time.

In New Zealand several progressive retail outlets imported her work, while a further link was gained through the potter John Parker, who trained under Lucie at The Royal College of Art. Items of his work are also on display in which Lucie’s presence can clearly be seen.

One the works I was particularly taken by, is a small but elegant bowl, it has beautifully simple bright Uranium yellow glaze with a bronze oxide edge that runs as delicate dribbles down the side.

Not to be missed are a collection of Luice’s trade mark, thin neck bottles with their flared rims. So very modern for their time, they would not seem out of place today.

Alongside are wonderful bowls by John Parker, one of which has a lava glaze, while another has wonderful bronze finish, so often used by Lucie.

Importantly, this is an outstanding exhibition, by one of Britain’s most acclaimed potters, accompanied by equally outstanding works of John Parker one of New Zealand’s leading ceramic artist.

Lysistrata Adapted by The Bacchanals. Directed by David Lawrence. Running at Bats Theatre until 6th Jun. Reviewed by Madelaine Empson.

Lysistrata is an Ancient Greek Comedy by Aristophanes that speaks of women boycotting sex until their men stop going to war. Doesn’t sound like that much to play with, right? Not so for the Bacchanals, an award-winning 15-year-old theatre company directed by David Lawrence, a nationally renowned feminist-extraordinaire whose witticisms know no bounds.

Lysistrata is jam-packed with contemporary social and political references and is profoundly metatheatrical. We’re talking actors consistently stepping out of character to discuss the action, structure, flaws and motifs of the original script, question Aristophanes’ stance on feminism and overall intentions, get a little bit naked, engage in a healthy portion of hanky-panky, sing, dance, frolic, wave their erect plasticine doodles around and generally absorb their audience in an evening of ruckus dynamism.

It’s a mile-a-minute production, featuring knockout performers such as Salesi Le’ota, who looks better in a dress than I do, and Michael Ness, whose bushy lavender beard and sweet disposition had me at ‘Jasmine.’

I was in stitches from the get go, partly because I was exquisitely uncomfortable, and partly because it’s actually just hilarious.

Just a warning, you probably shouldn’t see Lysistrata if you’re not that bothered by burger grease on your fingers. I for one am in awe of any contraption that is capable of minimising the ungodly horrors of sticky-burger-scented fingers, and revel in any excuse to worship it.

Gregor Kregar Bowen Galleries, Ghuznee Street. Reviewed by Maurice Bennett.

I do not know about you? But while I admire the ceramics of the past, I am not hung up on them. I also admire any potter who uses new technologies and also pushes the frontiers of design.

On show at Bowen Galleries, Ghuznee Street, are four ceramic vases by the multi-media and highly talented artist Gregor Kregar. Gregor is well known for his rows of porcelain figures of the artist clad in overalls or his ceramic Sheep in brightly coloured rugby jerseys created for the Rugby World Cup.

These are no ordinary shaped vases, they have been built up by triangle and trapezoid shapes, directly relating to the sculptures that Gregor creates using similar forms.

Besides the contemporary shape of the vases, what further sets them apart from the ceramics of old is the method of glazing employed. The bright aluminium and Pearl lustre surfaces have been achieved by the modern surface coating method of Physical Vapor Deposition. Thin layer metals such as chromium and aluminum are laid down as a highly adherent coating. The properties of the coating on some of the works have been further changed to create a wonderful Pearl lustre glaze by an extra firing.

I know of few other potters who have taken on the frontiers of new technologies, most are stuck in the methods and the aesthetics of the nineteen sixties or even earlier. It is therefore fantastic to see work that is reflective of the world we live in.

Elements Exhibition Various Artists. Wairarapa Museum of Art and History. Until 21 June, 2015. Reviewed by Maurice Bennett.

Every year the Lower North Island Region Potters hold an exhibition of their work. Entitled “Elements”. It is being held this year at Aratoi, Wairarapa Museum of Art and History, in Masterton.

You will see works by 28 of the region’s potters, each showing a number of pieces. With the various potters showing their personal differences to the use of clay, firing techniques, and glazing methods.

My comments relate to work that impressed me, not to the prize winners or what others may consider to be better work. A highlight for me was the work of Rosemary O’Hara. Her work has a strong Pacific / New Zealand flavour. This was due to the colour of the clay and impressions created by the use of feathers and leaves.

Lisa Donaldson displayed two simple plates, both showing a mastery of the glazing process. Lisa created simple seascapes using subdued blues and greys which give a pleasing effect that I consider to be outstanding.

Another potter well worth a mention is Jill Bagnall, who makes really great well-constructed work. I admired a salad bowl with a square base and an interior dark glaze.

A disappointment for myself, is that there were no works that showed innovation, there was no pushing the boundaries, or anybody using clay in a new and innovative way. The exhibition felt a bit safe and little subdued.

All the work is for sale.

New Zealand ceramicist and sculptor 'Mudlark' Exhibition Bronwynne Cornish (born 1945) The Dowse Art Museum until 2 August, 2015 Reviewed by Maurice Bennett.

‘Mudlark’ – is a major exhibition of Bronwynne Cornish’s work - one of New Zealand’s most celebrated ceramic artists. Bronwynne has been working with clay since the 1960’s.

As a full time potter Bronwynne has exhibited in a number of major galleries both in New Zealand and overseas. Her style is quite unique and personal reflecting a strong feminine theme, her interest in ritual and the power of magic.

Making up most of her exhibition are her figures. Hybrid humanal forms or animal and people beings inspired by Egyptian deities, sphinx, birds, and mythological animals. These motifs have formed a cornerstone of Cornish’s practice over the past twenty years, and constantly recur in her work. A personal favourite of mine, ‘Temple of Hera’ (1996) was one of the many temples on display. What drew me to this piece was the raw clay surface.

Filling a much larger space in the exhibition is one of Bronwynne’s installations works, ‘Home is where the Heart is’. Works of this size first appeared in the 1980s and at the time were considered a radical departure from the accepted traditions of pottery-making in New Zealand.

For me it was great to be reacquainted with the work. I first saw it at the Denis Cohen gallery in the early Eighties. The work speaks to the viewer on many levels. I see images of domestic life (slip-cast clothes pegs), ritual and magic (the temple and the row of cats) plus the feminine statement that prevails, but this is where I finish. I know I should both see and experience more.

Into The Storm New Zealand Symphony Orchestra. Michael Fowler Centre - May 16th Conductor: Thomas Sondergard. Reviewed by Rachel Brown and Bryony Hales.

As the audience arrived at the MFC dressed up in furs, suits, hats and heels, or dressed up in jeans, hats and parkas, the concert could well have been titled In From The Storm.

It began unexpectedly with a tribute to NZ composer Jack Body. His short piece, the Fifth Meditation on Michelangelo, smooth strings contrasting with chattering percussive strikes , introduced the evening.

An abrupt change led into Britten’s Four Sea Interludes, with high string phrases dropping down, through the woodwind, to thundering brass. Sections of the orchestra took up the theme, at times the violins skipping and leaping, as other sections broke in, disrupting the mood. The percussion had a true workout, moving from xylophone to bass drum, tympani to gong, beautiful clear chimes.

Then the jewel of the evening – Anthony Marwood bowing, plucking, striking, reaching impossibly unbearably high notes, in Britten’s Violin Concerto. While the orchestra maintained strong rhythmic beats, the violin went its own sweet way, echoed at times by piccolo or trumpet. After ascending and descending scales, it rose to a final fading note, and Sondergard held both orchestra and audience in utter silence.

The final piece, Sibelius’ Symphony No. 2, was harder to make sense of. The percussion took a well earned rest, the conductor stood tall, leaned, crouched, coaxed and directed, layers of instruments ebbed and flowed, until a glorious surge of repeated melody led to a sheer burst of volume.

And for us it was back out into the weather.

Aotearoa Plus New Zealand Symphony Orchestra. Conductor Christian Lindberg. Reviewed by Jennie Jones and Bryony Hales.

A friend and I found ourselves with great anticipation and not inconsiderable trepidation as no experts reviewing Aotearoa Plus at the NZSO concert with Christian Lindberg – conductor.

The first ever performance of Michael Norris’s Claro, a New Zealand piece, for us expressed not so much sounds reflecting clarity and light as sounds reflecting a storm, the string plucked rain drops, hail as they were struck, hail as they passed through, with thundering squalls, breaking into glimmers of sunlight. Unpredictable, theatrical, the precise flourishing movements of Lindberg's hands talking to the performers.

With the next piece, Jan Sandstroms' Echoes of Eternity, the sense of theatre increased with gentle sounds of trombones coming from off-stage with no conductor on stage, which confused some.

There was no denying the oomph oomph of the trombones as they came on. The serene melancholic melodies, overtaken by change of pace to staccato percussion, galloping brass calls and echoes and the sirens driving crowds running through the street. Lindberg exceled himself multi-tasking conducting, playing the trombone and narrating.

We settled into a more predictable range of sounds Douglas Lilburn – symphony No 2 focusing on flautist and woodwind as they interpreted the sugary strings. Lindbergs' conducting became more expansive and we were able to sit back and appreciate the gleam of the strings, the glitter of the brass, the glimmer of the woodwind and sheen- gleam of Lindbergs' none traditional satin shirts. A wonderful evening of sounds, music, sights and drama.

A Servant to Two Masters Adapted by Lee Hall. Directed by Ross Jolly. Running at Circa Theatre until 30th May. Reviewed by Madelaine Empson

A Servant to Two Masters is an adaptation of Goldoni’s celebrated 18th Century Italian commedia dell’arte piece. Adapted by playwright Lee Hall, (best known for his Academy Award nominated screenplay for Billy Elliot), the reborn comedy displays elements of pantomime, farce, melodrama and slapstick.

The script is rapid and referential, featuring classic cases of mistaken identity, cross-dressing and star-crossed lovers.

The focal point of the play is servant Truffaldino (Leary), a perpetually hungry, strategic fool who is struck by the revelation that double the master equals double the pay (and double the dinner).

In an attempt to fill his belly with the ‘bloop-bloops’ of dip, the ‘thwop-thwops’ of meat and the ‘boing-boings’ of spotted dick, Truffaldino causes absolute pandemonium, instigating a series of hilarious mishaps and farcical adventures.

In particular, Truffaldino inadvertently makes it nigh impossible for the disguised Beatrice (Burns) and the questionably heterosexual Florindo (Dey) to reunite. In an exceptional case of dramatic irony, these lovers are both served by the same maddening (yet quite talented) fool.

Never before have I seen such an energetic and vibrant cast. These actors never let up, telling more jokes than Chandler Bing could muster in a lifetime, and demonstrating melodramatic comedic prowess that is at times thoroughly on point.

A Servant to Two Masters is the best kind of silly, and I found it exhaustively entertaining.