Dave Armstrong aptly describes his new comedy as a “love letter to readers, writers, and librarians” and has used a real story about his sister-in-law’s elderly neighbour as the launchpad for his narrative.

Local Library begins with conservative Boomer Paul Homewood (Peter Hambleton) having his book-borrowing rights suspended for hiding magazines to avoid paying the modest rental fee by stern senior librarian and social justice warrior Helen Nielsen (Jude Gibson). Initially poles apart in temperament, politics, and approach to life, over the course of Paul’s regular visits to the library, their battle of wills gradually thaws to an entente cordiale. They are united by literature and loneliness, discovering they have more in common than they would ever have thought.

Hambleton and Gibson are a charming pairing with great chemistry. Hambleton’s old-man shuffle and wonky tie (costume design by Sheila Horton) are a visual delight, while his butchering of “terrio Mowri”, stubborn northern English accent, and ridiculously anti-woke posturing are deliciously cringe-inducing. Gibson’s staunch librarian of 40 years’ standing, struggling not to be ousted from the best thing in her life, is believably vulnerable beneath her tough shell. They spark off each other beautifully and carry the 90-minute duologue with the panache of the seasoned pros they are. Conrad Newport’s delicate direction never gets in their way.

William Smith (lighting, set) and Azarael Ballard (sound) of Tungsten Projects Ltd have taken great care with the technical design. Their realistic setting has a suitably institutional feel with its community notices, stand of graphic novels, and neatly Dewey Decimalled books. The lights in the rows of shelves and above the issues desk creatively change the mood during scene transitions, accompanied by lively and suitably chosen music that bookends each chapter. The barking of Paul’s ever-changing company of dogs even comes from the right place behind the library entrance; attention to detail that will delight theatre nerds.

Witty and current with a deeper vein of meaning below the laughs, Local Library is bibliophilic bliss for anyone who loves a heartwarming story.

Mar Musa opens with the pastel colours of dawn sweeping across a vast desert landscape. Built into the side of a rugged, treeless mountain, the ancient monastery Deir Mar Musa al-Habashi looks more like a citadel, camouflaged save for the architectural straight lines that give it away.

The monastery’s history is deeply tied to the economic, political, and social fate of Syria, beginning in the 4^th century. Mar Musa, directed by Shahab Kermani, follows the monks and nuns living in the monastery through intimate, observational storytelling as they navigate post-war devastation in Syria. The monastery’s key tenets are to practice and promote interfaith dialogue between Christians and Muslims, provide radical hospitality to all faiths, and close the distance between the two religious groups to move towards a more peaceful and mutual life.

We see the community sharing meals together with visitors of both faiths, smiling and laughing as they discuss profound theological questions and the horrors of war. Their faith is resolute, and love and understanding is at the heart of the gatherings. This is despite the grave personal losses and trauma experienced by everyone. Including the abduction of community founder Father Paolo Dall’Oglio by ISIL and the destruction of the 1,500 year old Mar Elian monastery in a nearby town.

The cinematography is spectacular, cutting between landscape, daily life, and interviews. Inside the monastery we get an intimate portrait of prayer and contemplation against the backdrop of Byzantine iconography, lit up by votive candles and columns of light coming through small openings near the ceiling.

The community visit nearby towns completely ravaged by war. The footage of street after street lined with rubble was some of the most shocking scenes of destruction I’ve ever seen – made all the more profound in the strength of the people that have chosen to remain.

The documentary is slow and meditative with a hypnotic score that won Best International Sound award at the Doc Edge Festival. I could’ve happily just watched the weather change on the desert below and listened to the monks, nuns, and visitors as they chatted over shared meals. Their lives are centred around healing the deep fractures within the country. The message of unity was poignant, and as the credits rolled, I could only wonder what the future holds for the place.

With my dates all mixed up I arrived at The Roxy cinema precisely one week early for a Doc Edge Festival documentary. Thankfully, The Lives of My Father was about to start, which made arriving 168 hours early completely worth it.

Directed by Magnus Skatvold, The Lives of My Father tells a story of espionage, lies, propaganda, and the uncovering of a father’s extraordinary double life. Didrik Hallstrøm was always told his ever-absent father Bjørn was a journalist who visited war-torn lands to get on-the-ground news. After recovering video tapes boxed up in the attic, he discovers that his father worked for the CIA, having been recruited by the agency after generating successful anti-Russian slogans when he worked in advertising.

The extraordinary footage reveals the escapades of a truly singular man whose life could come straight out of a Cold War spy novel. We see Bjørn firing AK-47s in the Kuwaiti desert and infiltrating cocaine laboratories in Colombia. We see him in the jungle in Cambodia and caught in crossfires on the frontline of the Bosnian war.

Instead of glamourising Bjørn’s escapades like a Hollywood blockbuster would, The Lives of My Father turns the lens toward the shadowy side of a double life. Bjørn is unwell and nearing the end of his life. For the first time, Didrik confronts his father about his past through a series of interviews. Bjørn is larger than life, charismatic, obstinate, and good-humoured, chain smoking his way through the interviews, only ever stopping briefly to puff on his inhaler.

Accounts from Bjørn’s ex-wife, friends, and colleagues reveal the effects of his work: a son who grew up without a father, a wife who raised her children alone, and colleagues who had no idea that the journalism was a cover for something much more dangerous and covert.

Over the course of the documentary the lines blur between propaganda, journalism, and espionage. We are confronted by the global meddling of the CIA, the lengths a man is willing to go to complete his missions, and the reality of living life as a spy.  

A truly thought-provoking and captivating documentary, there are no heroes and no villains. Instead, there are complicated people reckoning with their pasts in the hopes to move on.

Tom Basden’s adaptation of Accidental Death of an Anarchist brings Dario Fo and Franca Rame’s 1970 political farce into a contemporary setting, retaining its sharp satire of institutional incompetence while updating many of its references. Directed by Joy Hellyer and Paul Kay, KAT Theatre’s production embraces the play’s chaotic energy, finding plenty of laughs while leaving room to push its farcical style even further.

James Kiesel is at the heart of the production as the Maniac, effortlessly transforming between personas as he manipulates those around him. From greeting audience members before the show wearing a white wig and pearls and claiming to be KAT president Margaret Robertson, to later shifting character to become a judge and a forensic expert, Kiesel demonstrates impressive physical agility, confidently commanding the stage with energetic movement. His performance captures the trickster spirit of the role, although there are moments where greater delight in deceiving his victims and more direct engagement with the audience could heighten the sense of gleeful anarchy.

The cast work well together, particularly in the scenes where the increasingly bewildered police officers (Kevin Hastings, Sadie McLoughlin, Chris O’Grady, and Gino Moretto) compound the confusion through their own ineptitude. These sequences are well blocked, ensuring the action remains clear despite the escalating chaos. At times punchlines can arrive a little too quickly, and some visual gags and physical comedy could be given more space to land; however, the production does well to find humour without becoming a pantomime. The cast’s commitment to the absurdity and deadpan delivery of punchlines make for a hilarious production, with use of varied accents adding another layer of comedy.

Basden’s adaptation loses some of the political focus and narrative purpose of the original, with the Maniac’s actions feeling like mischief for its own sake rather than a determined attempt to expose corruption. Nevertheless, the play’s themes remain surprisingly relevant. Its satire of policing, bureaucracy, and institutional failure resonate beyond its British setting.

KAT Theatre delivers an entertaining production, ultimately leaving audiences pondering its central question: who is truly the maniac? The man exposing the absurdity of the system, or those who unquestioningly accept it?

InBetween Nowhere and Everything was advertised as a story about cowboys in space, and as I enter BATS Theatre, I am more than ready to leave this rainy evening behind and escape into the cosmos. My first impression of the set (Jamie Sayers) is that of a makeshift spaceship: a simple table, a bed, and a cowboy poster attached to the wall. A mysterious girl (Míren Welsh Ahipene Duffin) enters in a ghost-like fashion, moving nostalgically through the room before playing a song on an old tape recorder (sound design by Tim Johnston). This is the last moment of peace the audience experiences for quite some time.

The stillness is shattered as three figures burst onto the stage in a dramatic escape: a lover (Alex Quinn), a killer (Zoe Harris), and a nobody (Simon Ulm) seek refuge in the ship as they flee from combat. Coming from different planets, they are now stuck with one another in a small spaceship, seemingly lost in the middle of nowhere. For the next hour, the audience is able to intimately experience the transformation each of them undergoes in the face of impending death.

Sharing the same cramped room, food rations, and even a makeshift litterbox, it comes as no surprise that the unlikely comrades slowly start to reveal their darkest secrets. Time is only measured by their dwindling rations. From guitar songs that evoke cowboys gathered around a bonfire, to a romantic dance of longing and some spontaneous poetry, the play evolves on many different levels, always keeping it interesting. Supported by the ghost woman, who haunts them into reliving their memories, three broken people embark on a last effort to fix themselves before it is too late.

For much of the play, there seems to be a lot of screaming, and some of the dialogue is difficult to follow due to thick accents and loud background sounds. Yet by the end, one thing is eerily clear:  the characters share far more than they ever imagined.

Modern Whore is a hybrid film based on a memoir of the same name by Andrea Werhun. It blends documentary with fiction, featuring reenactments, testimonials, animations, and archival footage in a fast-paced and spirited reimagining of Werhun’s life as a sex worker. She teamed up with director Nicole Bazuin for the documentary, where she explores agency, labour, intimacy, and identity, telling stories about the behaviours of clients, the owners of her escort agency, and the unique growing pains of learning on the job.

The documentary is subversive. It takes the typically bleak genre of sex work films, grabs the microphone, and displays the real life of a sex worker straight from the horse’s mouth. The film includes conversations between Werhun and fellow sex workers, who discuss their experiences of sex work through the lens of race, gender diversity, and neurodivergence – though only ever in short cameos. It also includes conversations between Werhun and her mother, and with her long-term partner – both of whom are incredibly supporting of her.

It’s upbeat, it’s colourful. It deals with the darker side of sex work without making it the whole side. While it empowers and gives agency to sex workers who often don’t get to tell their own stories, I couldn’t help but feel some moments are self-indulgent. It makes sweeping statements about sex work based on Werhun’s very specific experience, while at the same time barely reaching below the surface. The over-dramatisation is often jarring and slapstick, and while it covers a lot of themes, it sometimes reads like the diary of a teenager. Then again, without her unreserved confidence, a film with total agency like this one would never get made.

All that being said, I appreciate that Modern Whore is radical and important. Sex workers are often portrayed only as victim or villain, and here is a film featuring a three-dimensional and uncategorisable woman who is both empowered and embodied. In Canada sex work is not legal, making it a critical film about labour rights. Here in Aotearoa, it will challenge the biases of some of its more prudish and discriminatory audiences. Ultimately, I was engaged throughout and I would encourage people to head along and check it out. It will be screening as part of the Doc Edge Film Festival at the Roxy Cinema on Saturday the 25^th of July. 

Released last month, the Fragile World album has been described as “capturing The Veils in an urgent and instinctive mode”, and is their eighth studio album in 22 years. The Veils is less of a traditional band and more leader and songwriter Finn Andrews (vocals, keys, guitar, bass) enlisting an assortment of top New Zealand musicians on rotation. This 10-date New Zealand tour has the full band for the first six shows and finishes with Andrew’s four solo performances.

For such a talented songwriter, in concert Andrews was a man of so few words, he didn’t even introduce the band members by name! Changing instruments fluidly but efficiently, almost with each song, Tom Healy (guitar, bass, backing vocals), Dan Raishbrook (guitar, pedal steel guitar, bass), Dave Khan (violin, guitar, keys, percussion, backing vocals), and Joe McCallum (drums, percussion) took versatility to a whole new level.

The first song Aurora from the new album, featuring Andrews’ plaintive vocals and gorgeous piano, set anticipation levels high amongst the devoted audience. The start of Are You Awake Tonight?, also from the new album and featuring Andrews’ powerful vocals, had shades of Springsteen’s Thunder Road. On Swimming with the Crocodiles, featuring McCallum’s solid drum groove, Andrews switched to electric guitar. Khan’s eerie violin intro on Not Yet led into an almost hypnotic guitar-driven funk rhythm. The piano intro for The Dream Of Life was poignant, and Andrews described My Foolish Heart as his attempt at a country song! No Limit of Stars, featuring Khan’s gorgeous violin, had the crowd entranced and the hairs standing up on the back of my neck. Stunning. The set finished with crowd favourites Low Lays the Devil and Jesus For The Jugular, but we didn’t want the show to end.

To rapturous applause, Andrews came back on stage and, prior to The Tide That Left and Never Came Back, said he lived in Wellington, a city he loves, for a little while last year and had a lovely time... “Maranui Cafe – very nice!” Kahn then joined him on violin for the climactic last track Axolotl. Their Wellington fans love The Veils too – hopefully they’ll be back here soon.

Conductor Dane Lam, visiting from Hawaii, welcomed the audience and summed up the 2026 New Zealand Symphony Orchestra (NZSO) National Youth Orchestra (NYO) as “the jewel in the artistic crown of New Zealand” and “the future of music making”. Of course, he was right.

This was a programme conceived around big themes of the sea and voyaging. In Pray for the wanderer by the 2026 NYO composer-in-residence Jack Bewley, a bold, confident timpani and trumpet opening was followed by assured and beautifully sustained cello and violin from the section leads. With lots of contrast, repeating themes, and complex rhythms, this was not an easy piece, but the orchestra handled it expertly, bringing to the fore Lam’s vision for music making in New Zealand.

Benjamin Britten’s Four Sea Interludes opened with violins and flutes, superbly balanced by the musicians. The quality of the tone in the strings was exceptional all evening. A strong brass section and timpani built impressive final phases as the cold North Sea storm finally blew itself out.

From Britten’s North Sea we travelled to the Pacific Ocean. Michael-Thomas Foumai’s Kealaikahiki Suite celebrates the 1976 voyage of the double-hulled wa’a Hōkūle’a from Hawaii to Tahiti that revived ancient, non-instrument navigation. The huge ending of the piece reflects the enormous energy the voyage injected into a cultural revitalisation across the Pacific.

Familiar and well loved, Claude Debussy’s La Mer gave the orchestra opportunity to show their mettle. Maturity, confidence, skill, and musicianship were all on display. The strings and woodwind captured the bright sound of light on water. Crisp, alert ensemble playing gave life to the energy and playfulness of the waves. Brass and percussion drove us to an exciting conclusion.

Although many in the audience were family, whānau, and friends, the musicians absolutely earned their enthusiastic response and confirmed the 2026 NZSO National Youth Orchestra is part of the future of music making in Aotearoa.

Premiered in 1925, Noël Coward’s classic comedy Hay Fever is an apt choice to help celebrate the centenary of Wellington Repertory Theatre, the city’s oldest community-based troupe. Coward’s wit and talent for exposing human flaws are timeless and this is an entertaining way to warm up a dark winter’s night.

The eccentric Bliss family are “artificial to the point of lunacy”. Matriarch and retired actress Judith (Ruth Corkill) and her novelist husband David (Paul Stone) waft about their country house while their offspring Sorel (Keira Hikuroa) and Simon (Alex Davey) bicker in the way that only rich people with too much time on their hands can. Into this bohemian disorder come Judith’s adoring young fan Sandy (Solomon Archer), Simon’s vampish friend Myra (Nethmi Karunanayake), young diplomat Richard (Jimmy Sutcliffe), and shy flapper Jackie (Pippa McAnergney), each invited by one of the family members without consulting the others. The weekend from Hell ensues.

Corkill is wonderfully melodramatic, using Judith’s age, beauty, and gift for the absurd to torment family and guests alike. Each word is beautifully enunciated and her delivery of the immortal line, “That. Is. Not. An. Adverb.” is sublime. Stone is delightfully ditsy and Karunanayake is a welcome return to the stage. A somewhat underused Sutcliffe also provides excellent support. Ninth cast member Sara Schroder as housekeeper Clara is blessed with a role that allows her to disdain all that is happening around her. Director Susannah Donovan’s choice to use her to fill the gap between the second and third acts when everyone else is frantically changing costume is inspired.

The necessarily minimalist set (Donovan and Vince Jennings) – it’s shared next week with a production for children – somewhat lacks the lushness expected of the mansion setting. Drapes at the long set of bare windows would have easily added a sense of wealth.

You can’t beat Coward for a fun night out, so get along and support Wellington’s longest-standing community theatre as it celebrates its 100^th birthday.