It’s been a long time since I have left the cinema with such a big smile on my face. Whether you want to attribute it to the heartwarming story, the irresistible charm of an exceptionally cute dragon named Toothless, or the fact that I have watched both this new live-action iteration and the original animated feature sat next to my mum in the cinema is your call. Regardless, I would bet that How to Train Your Dragon will make you smile as much as it did us.

If you, like me, recall staring starry eyed up at the screen when the animated movie How to Train Your Dragon was released in cinemas in 2010, then you’re in luck, because the live-action version is essentially a shot-for-shot remake. For those who didn’t grow up with the franchise, the first film in the series takes place in a Viking settlement that battles with dragon attacks daily. Descended from the best fighters of all the Viking tribes, the inhabitants of the Isle of Berk have been tasked with one job: kill all dragons. To chief Stoick the Vast’s (Gerard Butler) dismay, his son Hiccup (Mason Thames) either didn’t inherit the dragon-slayer gene or perhaps just sees the world a bit differently. When Hiccup befriends a dragon named Toothless, he never would have guessed that together they would turn the world upside down.

Written and directed by series creator Dean DeBlois, the live-action film sees Nick Frost in the teacherly role of Gobber the Belch, New Zealand’s own Julian Dennison as Hiccup’s classmate Fishlegs Ingerman, and Nico Parker of The Last of Us fame as Hiccup’s crush Astrid Hofferson alongside relative newcomer Thames and Butler reprising his original role. Together, they deliver a performance that captures the same charm and high-adrenaline spirit of the original cartoon without seeming over the top. The story and world are believable, and incredibly beautiful thanks to cinematographer Bill Pope’s sweeping shots of the Irish coast. The CGI has copped some criticism for not blending in well with its surroundings, but it looked seamless to my untrained eye. With excellent production design (Dominic Watkins), costumes (Lindsay Pugh), and dynamic editing (Wyatt Smith), How to Train Your Dragon is as joyful, adventurous, and fun as I remembered it so many moons ago.

By the time Anatole Zsa-Zsa Korda’s sixth assassination attempt is underway, Wes Anderson’s orderly, well-balanced world has been blown to smithereens… quite literally. As for Korda (Benicio del Toro), he seems more annoyed than afraid.

We soon learn that this is nothing out of the ordinary for ‘Mr Five Percent’. The world’s most elusive businessman seems to profit from dubious dealings – hence the routine assassination attempts. Except this time, something has changed. After his latest plane crash, Korda had a vision: a Biblical, black and white cut scene in which he appears to be on trial for his life. Perhaps he died for a moment this time. Regardless, it won’t be his last vision or death

He decides to appoint his only daughter, Liesl (Mia Threapleton), a nun, as sole heir to his estate. Thus begins The Phoenician Scheme, setting Korda, Liesl, and Norwegian entomologist tutor-turned-administrative secretary Bjorn (Michael Cera) on a madcap venture to revolutionise the area formerly known as Phoenicia.

Written by director Anderson and Roman Coppola, The Phoenician Scheme, like any Anderson film, is distinctively his in every aspect. From sets to sound, dialogue to dramatics, the master of arthouse filmmaking has done it again. His latest is isolating yet intimate, microscopic yet monolithic, a perfectly choreographed two-step where moments of high-stakes intellect waltz onto the screen only to be replaced by a lindy hop of unhinged absurdity.  

Adam Stockhausen’s sets look as flimsy and fabricated as Korda’s grand scheme, while Bruno Delbonnel’s cinematography makes everything seem toy-like and distant yet still utterly personal and aesthetic as in true Anderson fashion. The score, crafted meticulously by Alexandre Desplat, is incessant. Like a dripping tap, it accompanies every breath, every argument, every drop of every pin. As messy as Korda’s world, it eats away at your sanity as the story devolves into chaos and uncertainty.

Add flat lays, extreme long shots for exposition, and hyper-detailed closeups overflowing with props and the result is a reality that seems both utterly fabricated and inherently real, chaotic and choreographed, impossible and familiar. Despite its orderly appearance and general dreaminess, The Phoenician Scheme is a world of inconsistencies, opposites, coincidences, tragedies, and miracles. Like every Wes Anderson film, it’s a bit like life itself.

A story as dark and cold as a Wellington winter night, The Fox gently unravels a modestly content household in the pursuit of happiness. Inspired by D. H. Lawrence’s novella of the same name, Keith Scott’s The Fox follows Jill Banford (Yasmine Alani) and Nellie March (Lottie Butcher), who live a humble life on a farm. Things go awry when Henry Grenfel (Sven Hoerler) returns from fighting in World War I to the homestead his grandfather had once owned, now the abode of Jill and Nellie.

The Fox is drenched in symbolism, which is often overlooked in plays, but the actors do well to emphasise phrases so that the audience can easily understand the references. Whether it is the titular fox or a deer, everything in the script has a deeper meaning. It takes paying a penny for your thoughts to a whole new level. We are prompted to view everyday life through a different lens, eager to dissect the meaning in everything. The Fox serves as a warning about the place we put men in our lives and homes and the damage they can cause.

The cast keep the audience engaged throughout – no mean feat for just three actors – and portray their characters with nuance, showing us the complexity and frailty of their relationships. I particularly enjoy the queer coding between Jill and Nellie.

The set (Ewen Coleman) provides the perfect backdrop and really feels like the quaint home Nellie and Jill have spent years perfecting. It is also refreshing to see how well utilised the set is, as each part serves a purpose.

This Wellington Repertory Theatre production will get you pondering on many levels as it asks a question about the cost of happiness and whether it is achievable. I know I will still be thinking of it in the days ahead. Come in from the cold and see for yourself the damage a fox can do.

By now, anyone wandering Wellington’s wonderful waterfront would have spotted two large shipping containers set up at Odlins Plaza. In giant block letters, one reads FLIGHT, the other SÉANCE. But what worlds wait inside?

DARKFIELD is an immersive audio experience that takes place in total darkness, but not before audiences see the inside of the containers. This gives us a setting for the experience to unfold and grounds us in reality before the rug is pulled out from underneath us (figuratively, but it sure feels literal) and our imaginations take flight.

Which brings me to FLIGHT. With the Australian and New Zealand set built by Show Works, stepping inside this container elicits a collective audible gasp. It looks practically identical to the right side of an airplane cabin, complete with round windows through which a faint glow emits. Familiar sounds you’d hear on any flight beep and crackle through the provided headsets. Hilariously, and without being asked to do so, many of us fasten our seatbelts. On small overhead screens, flight attendant Eugénie Pastor relays safety instructions and our captain, Nigel Barrett, dials in. Cue lights out.

It's pitch black as the sound of our plane taking off blares in our ears. I nearly get vertigo and, as I thrust back in my seat unwittingly, I curse inwardly for having forgotten my sucky lollies. Then I remember… this isn’t real! Talk about suspension of disbelief.

Fictional babies start to cry from multiple seats as their ears pop from the altitude and I find myself counting my blessings I’m not seated next to one of them before remembering, again, that I’m on the ground in Wellington. A hilarious highlight of the 360-degree audio performance comes when our flight attendant tells the babies to stop crying, please, and dead silence ensues.

The story that unfolds from here is a touch on the nose radome, particularly with the reference to a passenger named Mr Schrödinger. As someone who genuinely felt like they were on an airplane in the first five minutes, the script’s diversion into fantastical realms muddied my experience. I’d be curious to see a storyline that leans more on the merits of such a brilliant and unique concept – perhaps one that takes audiences on a regular flight filled with interesting character studies or relationship (aero)dynamics. Nevertheless, I’d recommend DARKFIELD: FLIGHT for the highly detailed set and the singularity of the experience: apart from next door at SÉANCE, you’ll never see (or hear) anything like it!

SÉANCE sees audiences enter a room single file, peeling left and right to sit on either side of a large rectangular table that runs the length of the shipping container. Small golden bells dangle on red strings, but other than that, the set (built for Australia and New Zealand by Form Imagination) is stark, cold. We’re instructed to place both hands on the table and to not, under any circumstances, take them off for the duration of the experience, lest we break the connection and unleash a spirit. Nervous energy crackles down the table like electricity. When the lights go out, Tom Lyall performs a séance through our headphones, seemingly stomping up and down the table and whispering sweet spooky nothings in our ears. I can’t spoil the story here, but there’s a certain melting, squelching sound that still makes me shudder!    

With artistic direction from David Rosenberg and Glen Neath, executive direction from Andrea Salazar, and creative direction from senior creative producer Victoria Eyton, DARKFIELD is produced by Amy Johnson and Nathan Alexander of Realscape Productions. I would’ve loved to have seen more character development throughout both stories, but wholly enjoyed my time in the alternative worlds, the heart-palpitating dark fields conjured up by this creative team. Enter at your own peril!

The Ballad of Briar Grant tells the story of Hayley (played by Phoebe Caldeiro) and how she finds herself again after confessing her true feelings and being rejected by Briar Grant, her best friend. After her hopes are crushed, aimless and despairing, she ends up travelling to an apple orchard in the south of France. Here she is confronted by fate and unable to escape her emotions, as the woman she is working with is also called Briar Grant (played by Anna Barker).

Barker and Caldeiro have excellent chemistry, their sharp and considered delivery getting the humour of the script across as the ridiculous coincidence of their situation is ignited by their opposing personalities. Hayley is dejected and lost, struggling to draw meaning from the beautiful landscape she has found herself in. Meanwhile, Briar is manic, brash, and desperate for connection to the point of unabashed obnoxiousness. The characters are relatable, and while their situation may not be familiar, it is easy to empathise with them and read oneself into the story. Hayley’s feelings of despondence and frustration are compellingly painted by Caldeiro, matched by Barker’s neurotic pushiness as Briar Grant.

The set design by Heather Wright is effective, consisting of modular crates full of apples and some drapes that evoke the rows of the apple orchard. Sound design by Ben Kelly and lighting by Jacob Banks also satisfyingly set the scene, with sounds of birdsong and an orange glow of light to depict the warm, sunny day in France. Lighting and sound are also used to punctuate key moments in the play, including the climax of the story where Hayley’s emotions finally build up to express her frustrations about her original Briar in song. 

At times, there are pregnant, ponderous moments in the play where the action is drawn out and we are able to reflect on what the characters are going through. Sometimes the motivation in these moments is a little unclear, but overall, the script is understandable and lifelike. Thus, it is incredibly cathartic to see the characters grow and change, and reflect on how we also may have become different from our past selves.

Bella Baird is a brilliant but brittle Ivy League creative writing professor. Christopher Dunn is her talented yet angry and somewhat mysterious student. Surrounded by real life and literary fiction, an unusual friendship grows between their two lonely souls. Then one winter’s day, Bella asks an unthinkable favour of Christopher and their figurative and literal bonds turn full circle.

With much of the text delivered in direct address to the audience, Dulcie Smart has a huge job to do in playing Bella and does so with the self-assurance of an accomplished international stage and screen actor. As Christopher, Kieran Charnock carefully carries the awkwardness and sometimes disingenuous nature of a young novelist struggling to find his identity and voice. 

Stella Reid’s tight and flowing direction makes the most of Meg Rollandi’s creative set design that allows multiple rooms, a bar, and a park to co-exist without need for walls. Natasha James’ moodily effective lighting design that employs three onstage lamps, plus top and side light through haze, emphasises the darkly multi-layered narrative. Thomas Arbor’s shapeshifting music and sound effects provide a pulsing sonic backdrop, most appreciably during the scenes where both actors are on stage. 

I appreciate the expressive and often lyrical writing, the exploration of the loneliness that sometimes accompanies high intelligence and literary sensibility, and the encircled creativity of the story. I would like to have seen Bella and Christopher interact more often and have more actual dialogue and less reported speech than Adam Rapp’s script gave them as their refreshingly non-sexual relationship unfolded. This I think would have allowed me to emotionally invest in the characters and their fates, rather than marvelling at their intellectual capabilities. Ultimately, The Sound Inside tugged more at my head than my heart.

With an award-nominated script, high production values, slick direction, and highly rated actors, The Sound Inside is a classy piece of theatre that will leave you with much to chew on and dissect.

After the opening piece, Don Juan by Richard Strauss, conductor Adam Johnson told us it wouldn’t be the last time the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra (NZSO) National Youth Orchestra (NYO) string musicians would play it. Don Juan is apparently one of the more difficult pieces in the repertoire and, should they pursue their careers with other orchestras, they will probably find themselves playing it in their audition. On the strength of this performance, their careers, and those of their colleagues, are off to a great start. The sound was lush and deep with strong rushes of romanticism through lovely legato playing.

Soprano Madison Horman, a local from Palmerston North with an impressive musical education, took on the challenge of Strauss’ 4 Lieder, Op. 27. Horman has a rich tone and although a little outweighed by the orchestra in early, quieter passages, her big voice did justice to one of the most frequently performed of Strauss’ works.

As well as an opportunity for the country’s best young musicians to play and perform together, the NYO also supports an annual composer-in-residence. This year, Luka Venter drew inspiration from UNESCO’s International Year of Glaciers’ Preservation to take listeners inside a glacier. Glaciers are in a constant state of change and Venter captured the sounds of that perpetual movement with a mysterious accuracy. As well as depicting the vivid blue colour of the ice, we could hear the light dancing through the form of the glacier.

Rachmaninov’s Symphony No. 2 brought together all the hard work our National Youth Orchestra musicians have put in on their own, in their regional groups, and finally, as one orchestra rehearsing together for the last week. The passion of the piece was matched by passion in the performance. It feels harsh to pick only one amongst so many, but the standout was the principal clarinet in the Adagio. Long passages, played with infinite care and attention, held the narrative perfectly.

Mister Six and I had the privilege of being in the presence of a famous duo at Heidi and Sean Show. Heidi Jean Lougher and Sean Kaata Dwen have trained and performed all over the world, including Vietnam, Scotland, and Iceland, and they did not disappoint. They may have even encouraged my son to attend circus school one day!

Although the weather is wet, the Tararaua Tramping Club Clubrooms are warm and cosy. We are warmly welcomed by Fergus Aitken and show producer Amalia Calder at the door and make our way to the lolly table, which has become a part of our tradition when attending KidzStuff shows. Then we go to scout out some choice seats. The venue is already pretty full, and I am surrounded by lots of excited faces. What I love about the theatre is the fact that there aren’t allocated seats, and the kids are welcome to sit on the rug right in front of the stage. Talk about front-row action!

Heidi and Sean’s simple but effective staging, costumes, and props make us intrigued about what tricks they might have up their sleeves. The lights and music by the wonderful Deb McGuire set the vibe for each act.

With the number of oohs and aahs, gasps and claps that we heard (and sounded ourselves), it’s safe to say you and your kids will be in for a treat at Heidi and Sean Show. Humorous jokes are worked into the act, aimed at both young and old. It gets even more fun with a bit of audience participation, and the finale will leave you wanting more.

After every show I go to with Mister Six, I always ask him what his favourite part was. Unfortunately, I can’t share his specific answer this time because I don’t want to spoil it for you, but it does turn out that he loved… drumroll please… all of it! He loves magic, tricks, stunts, and all things awe-inspiring. So, pop down to Heidi and Sean Show for a show like no other these school holidays!

Presenting A Nightime Travesty in its international debut, one of Australia’s few First Nations independent theatre collectives explodes onto the Wellington stage as part of the Kia Mau Festival. Their “unique brand of Blak Brechtian, post-traumatic adventure theatre” is a brutal, passionate, and X-rated satire against toxic patriarchy, colonialism, environmental destruction, white supremacy, and the abuse of God to demonise and subjugate Indigenous peoples. Even the inequities and privations of the theatre world come under its savage spotlight.

Co-creators and committed performers Kamarra Bell-Wykes and Carly Sheppard play the lion’s share of the roles as the Last Fleet of privileged humans takes to the sky to escape a poisoned Earth burning below them. They’re bound for an uncertain fate, perhaps the afterlife they’ve dreamed of in church. The “last Aboriginal”, the naively hopeful and warrior-hearted Angel, is one of two flight attendants and a failed pilot, denied the chance to fulfil her potential simply by her race and sex. The actual pilot, Captain God’s Gift, is an over-sexed, hugely endowed man-beast who ravages any available female just because he can. Lurking on the fringes and occasionally joining the story is a bong-smoking, masturbating Death (Zach Blampied).

Helping deliver the often hilarious, occasionally heart-rending original songs are smallsound and Matthew Pana on guitar and drums. smallsound is also responsible for the easily portable set design that involves a desk, skulls, stuffed toys, a couple of small bins, a large gong, and various other bits and pieces that Death plays with and that become props used throughout the show, alongside the odd amputated limb and severed head. Gina Gascoigne’s pacy lighting design augments the garish, crazy action.

A Nightime Travesty thoroughly eviscerates its themes in 100 minutes of raw, eye-popping theatre. Sit in the front row and you’ll be offered bottles of urine and cat food to keep you going on this journey to Hell. Strap in for a wild ride!