Shows

The Best Foods Christmas Comedy Gala was pegged as the biggest night of comedy in 2020. Judging by the raucous laughter and applause thundering through three tiers of The Opera House, I wholeheartedly agree. Being part of a ginormous crowd again, jostling elbows and sharing smirks with strangers felt nigh on miraculous. How lucky are we to be in New Zealand?

It’s not just our COVID-19 response that makes me feel fortunate – it’s the wealth of comedic talent on our shores, demonstrated by this exceptional NZ line-up hosted by Pax Assadi.

Assadi sets the tone for a night of outstanding comedy and keeps it flowing smoothly, teasing and charming the audience in one breath and delivering a couple of knockout sets of his own. Charisma for days.

19 comedians bring their own unique brand of comedy to the stage, making each act feel fresh. The quality of the stand-up on show means there’s never a dull moment and no set falls flat, though I can’t help but have a few favourites.

Paul Douglas has me crying with laughter with a bit about albino bats that’s hysterical in all senses of the word. Cori Gonzalez-Macuer proves that a $1000+ improv course did not go to waste, Hayley Sproull takes to a festive keyboard with a hilarious original about children ruining wine time – I mean Christmas – and musical-comedy duo The Fan Brigade bring good into the world with a song about all the bad stuff. Sera Devcich shares the infinite joys of parenthood and reaffirms my life ambition of becoming a stay-at-home dog mum. As socialites Prue and Dilly Ramsbottom, The Topp Twins’ parody of the privileged is a hoot. They still manage to inject a large dose of heart into their set, performing a breathtaking waiata for our new Minister of Foreign Affairs, Hon Nanaia Mahuta.

Every single comedian brought their A game to the Best Foods Christmas Comedy Gala – a night of explosive joy and laughter desperately needed and greatly appreciated by all.

After a long COVID-induced hiatus, the Royal New Zealand Ballet returned to the stage with their season of The Sleeping Beauty. The return came with a buzzed audience and a few minor technical difficulties, but the novelty of being in the theatre again meant that nobody seemed to mind.

Sleeping Beauty is the beloved fairy tale that has been around for centuries and has been adapted countless times. It is a story rich with drama, romance, and vitality; but unfortunately, this ballet did not quite hit the mark. Obviously, there were some roadblocks with collaborators unable to travel due to lockdown restrictions and dancers having to rehearse in bubbles, but I won’t dwell on that.

The production is split into three acts and seems to take shortcuts with the classic story – critically, there is no spinning wheel for the doomed Princess Aurora (Kate Kadow) to prick her finger on and Prince Désiré’s (Laurynas Vėjalis) quest to rescue her is colourless. The choreography is drawn out and the dancers seem a little unsure of themselves, and with an excess of sweeping ballroom scenes, it feels repetitive.  

Loughlan Prior’s Master of Ceremonies’ corralling of a group of children and the live accompaniment from Orchestra Wellington (conducted by Hamish McKeich) bring some charm to the work. Kadow and Vėjalis perform their roles carefully. I have been astounded by Vėjalis’ elevation before and was not disappointed to see him glide effortlessly through the air once again. Kadow is a tender dancer but shows her might in extended sections en pointe.

The Carabosse (Kirby Selchow) and her minions play a minor role, but they manage to demonstrate their cunning through sharp leaps and exaggerated extensions. The costuming for this wily crew, created by Donna Jefferis, is a sight to behold. Sparkling, gothic numbers with just the right amount of edge.

While it had moments of finesse and fancy, The Sleeping Beauty ultimately fell flat but likely enchanted the children in the audience. 

Ophelia Thinks Harder tells the story of Shakespeare’s Hamlet, but this time with a feminist focus. We watch as Ophelia (Aimée Sullivan) learns the difference between love and hate, and finally takes control of her own life.

Seeing the traverse staging, I’m immediately excited to see what director Ivana Palezevic chooses to do with it. The scenography utilises the stage well, giving us plenty to look at before the show begins (set design by Amy Whiterod). On one end of the theatre sits a large throne, while on the other end Ophelia lays patiently on her bed, surrounded by books and clothes, as the crowd finds their seats.

While mostly the costuming is simple, I’m particularly drawn to the very cover-of-Vogue attire donned by Hamlet (Isham Redford), along with the Queen’s (Lydia Harris) vibrant, floral gown (wardrobe design by Crystal Pulkowski). The sound (Evangelina Telfar) and lighting (Darryn Woods) complement each other well during the party scene, where the atmospheric soundscape and purple lighting create a unique sensory experience. I’m often distracted by the flashing of one broken light, but despite this, the lighting feels satisfying throughout the show.

A highlight is the fun metatheatrical plotline, where several cast members perform a play of their own. Filled with irony, this is one of many moments where the audience gets to see the actors filling the shoes of multiple characters. I particularly enjoy the performances of Allyn Robins, who charmingly plays Horatio, Harris, who has the audience in fits of laughter, and Sullivan, who impressively depicts the complexity of Ophelia’s emotions. Redford’s stage slap isn’t convincing from my viewpoint of the traverse stage, however his overall portrayal of Hamlet is powerful.

Quite forward-thinking when it was first published in 1994, the inclusion of derogatory terms in the script feels out of place, preventing it from appealing to the diversity of a modern audience. Despite this, it’s a wonderful change to be told this story through a feminist lens, where Hamlet’s actions are frowned upon, and where Ophelia really does think harder.

For 10 weeks, the Drag Class ‘classmates’ have been given performance assignments focused on different aspects of the drag artform, aiming to impress not only an audience, but an array of esteemed judges.

Tonight, Ivy Bar is jam-packed and the crowd is buzzing to see the now-graduates battle it out for the finale; Drag Class will finally crown a winner. With the deafening sound of a school bell, Hugo Grrrl (MC and Drag Headmaster) takes to the stage, glamorous as ever, to start the show.

Jack Christoph sets the bar high with his always-impressive costuming and a gender-swapped Cruella de Vil act. Tess Tease and her blow-up doll leave the audience both laughing and crying. Daya T, showing us that she’s more than just a pretty face, hides a skirt under her skinny jeans. While changing wigs mid-act might be a little dangerous, Louisiana Perkins performs a funny, passionate Britney Spears tribute. Jezebel delivers a killer lip-sync, and, after vigorously devouring her glass of fake blood with passionate pop-punk energy, leaves the stage sopping wet. With Marsha Mellow’s incredible stage presence and performance skills, audience members are wiping away tears as she transitions from queen to king, powerfully representing the transgender flag. Vixie and James Bondage, not often seen on one stage, both blow the audience away wearing a suit and ‘porn-stache’ on one side and a dress and pink hair extensions on the other. Wearing a gown made from images of her own face, Brenda? Areyouintheaudience (yes, that’s her name) takes self-love to another level in perhaps the most iconic moment of the night. Finally, the moment we’ve been waiting for, the imaginative Ju Májin takes the crown and the title of Grand Drag Class Dux with an extraordinary performance dedicated to his competition journey.

As one of many audience members with near-perfect attendance to Drag Class shows, I’m in awe of every performer’s progress, and can’t wait to see what they bring to the future of Wellington drag.

Created by Uther Dean, The Witching Hours is a podcast anthology of eerie audio adventures featuring guest writers and actors. This spooky, kooky production has swooped into BATS Theatre just in time for Halloween, with two episodes performed each night, live and in the flesh.

Tonight, we are treated to The Yeast with Two Backs by Eamonn Marra and Cyber Space by Uther Dean. Sepelini Mua’au and Lucy McCarthny work together with narrator Jonny Potts to tell the stories as Jennifer Lal’s lighting design cloaks them in purple and blue hues and shadows. Sound designer Oliver Devlin sits centre stage, creating sound effects in real time. Sound effects is quite the understatement. Devlin delivers sonic pyrotechnics from a ridiculously delightful range of props spanning silly putty to bread.  

Onto the bread, then. The Yeast with Two Backs starts on Tinder and ends the morning after, but the middle of the story does not your typical hook-up make. Tiffany the sourdough starter takes the term ‘yeast infection’ to a whole new level. I couldn’t help but screech, shriek, and flinch my way through this one in the best possible way.

Cyber Space follows a Hole Puncher (a mythical police-type entity who definitely doesn’t have plasma blood) as she seeks to discover the source of a mammoth drug empire over one night in a dystopian cyberpunk world where people live in two-square-metre dwellings if they’re lucky. Abstract examples have concrete ties to our world. The story might be set in space, but Dean’s inspired words still hit too close to home.

The performers deliver such vocal nuance that you could close your eyes and almost have the same experience, but then you’d miss the subtle expressions that add flits of light and laughter to these already uproarious works. Plus, you’d miss seeing an actual wizard at work (here’s looking at you, Devlin). I would see The Witching Hours every night if I could. What a riot of a time.

If you’re in need of feeling that familiar ache that proceeds a good laugh, whilst wanting to have your soul warmed by nostalgia, you need not look any further than Di and Viv and Rose at Circa Theatre. Though this piece is set in the 80s and shows three girls making the transition from teenagers to adults, the word ‘timeless’ seems best to describe Di and Viv and Rose, a production not to be missed.

What floored me the most about Di and Viv and Rose is the performances of the cast members. Julie Edwards (playing Rose) enters the stage first with an energy that radiates out to the audience, setting the upbeat tone for the rest of the show. Lara Macgregor (Di) gives a hearty performance, sending the audience into fits of laughter then instantly causing them to hold their breath in concern. And Jodie Dorday (Viv) adds more complexity to the trio with a stage presence that overshadows any male wanting to confine a woman to the “social construct that is a waist”. Through costume design (Sheila Horton), their characters’ personalities are further highlighted. As this is a show made by women for women, this trio brings to light that in spite of their characters’ differences, female camaraderie is a force not to be trifled with. 

Under the direction of Stephanie McKellar-Smith and the cohesive set design (Debbie Fish) and lighting design (Jennifer Lal), a palpable atmosphere is felt by everyone. They made the flat of Di and Viv and Rose a comfortable and empowering environment that no viewer wants to leave. 

From the opening night alone, I can tell the season is set to blow audiences away. This West End production has premiered on our shores exactly when it is most needed. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, Di and Viv and Rose provides a resurgence of quality entertainment that has been missed since lockdown. 

According to Hugo Grrrl and the internet, Wellington has more drag kings than any other city. Every couple of months The Little Boys’ Room brings a handful of them to the stage to show that when it comes to kings, the capital has quantity and quality.

Hugo, tonight’s MC, begins the show with his usual infectious energy and an audience warmup, which involves a sliding scale of orgasm sounds (“low groans” which escalate to eye-rolling screams). He informs us that “whatever sexuality you came in with, you won’t be leaving with it,” and introduces the first of many performers to prove his theory.

Up first, Ju Májin emerges from behind the sequinned curtain, showing us exactly how to tease an audience. Bjorn Toolove makes his debut by ruining rubber ducks and evidently, childhoods; the audience can’t help but love it. In a hilarious tribute to Jack Black, Mr Mellow delivers a super tight lip-sync with the hole in the crotch of his pants undoubtedly stealing the show. Dan the Comedy Man has the audience in eruptive laughter; his deadpan, dirty dad jokes are the perfect ingredient for brewing the most delicious awkwardness. Also bringing something different, Eddie D’amore’s goosebump-inducing singing spoke to my soul, while Hannah Harlot stunned the audience with classical dance to remind us that the planet is burning. Painted in Earth-like blue tones which slowly reveal fiery body paint, their makeup artistry had me in awe. Jack Christoph energetically “serves sexy” with an amusing and nerdy strip tease, followed by a jaw-dropping performance by Timothy Taffy, whose hilariously aggressive ‘masturbation’ left Hugo cleaning up a lot of white silly string after the show. Queen’s Don’t Stop Me Now will never sound the same.

Yet again, The Little Boys’ Room left the audience begging for more. We’re treated not only to drag king staples like tearaway pants and fake phalluses, but powerful political statements, stand-up comedy, and live singing. It’s safe to say this show has something special for everyone.

Sisters Sarah and Catherine Delahunty are high-profile New Zealanders renowned for their work in theatre and politics. In #UsTwo, playwright, director, and theatre matriarch Sarah joins with former Green MP, activist, and author Catherine to share six decades of personal and political history, starting right from the very beginning – with their births, one year apart in 1952 and 1953 respectively.

One of the highlights of the show is the audience’s reaction to the nostalgia the Delahunty sisters so eloquently evoke for this era. I’m delighted by the person sitting next to me, who nods fervently at every reference to 50s and 60s New Zealand. While I can’t relate as a 90s kid, it’s interesting to hear about growing up as a woman in these times and provides illuminating context for the rest of the story, filled with sharp turns, knotty twists, and more sexism than you can shake a stick at.

Over the next hour the Delahuntys take us through the changing landscape of feminism in Aotearoa from then until now. By the end of #UsTwo their brave, witty candour makes it clear to me that so much has changed, and so much hasn’t.

I am engaged and entertained throughout but distracted by the addition of a third performer, Ari Leason. While Leason has buckets of energy and a beautiful voice that lends itself to stirring three-part harmonies, her presence puts the focus on the technical aspects of the show rather than the family dynamic. Had Sarah and Catherine picked up their own props and made their own sound effects, #UsTwo would have felt more like two sisters in their jimjams sharing stories to me. I think a stripped-back rendition with lower production values would have the sort of intimacy that draws you in and stays with you.

Funny and authentic, #UsTwo packs a real punch and makes me want to throw a punch at the patriarchy in turn.

It’s the last day of the planting season, and Hugo the Gardener (Hugo Grrrl/George Fowler) is anxious to get his seeds in the soil to grow into the perfect garden. There’s just one problem: he’s too afraid to get started. Directed beautifully under Lori Leigh’s eye for intricacies, The Glitter Garden follows Hugo as he’s visited by garden friends who teach him about patience, kindness, and self-love.

In a world-first drag musical for children, we walk through the theatre doors into Hugo’s backyard on Pride Parade. Immediately, we’re encapsulated in an otherworldly kind of magic. Sean Coyle and Lucas Neal’s set design exceeds expectations, stunning the audience with the magical props and Dr. Seuss-esque scenery.

The backyard comes to life with an enchanting lighting change (lighting design by Marcus McShane) as Hugo makes a wish on a dandelion. With a catchy rap number (sound design and composition by Maxwell Apse) we’re introduced to The Ever Changing Boy (Björn Åslund), Robin Yablind (Monique Walford), and Eva Goodnight (Nick Erasmuson), whose captivating performances induce tears.

So delightfully animated he could have been built as part of the set, Hugo remains on stage for almost the entire show, seeking gardening advice from the audience. One by one, his garden friends come and go with three magical costume changes (costume design by Victoria Gridley). While Hugo takes the musical theatre route by singing live, the others deliver spot-on lip-syncs true to the drag artform (vocals by Maxwell Apse, Pippa Drakeford, and Stevie Hancox-Monk).

While some argue that drag isn’t for children, these kings and queens elegantly assure us that anyone can twirl in a tutu, get messy in the mud, and dance like a butterfly ballerina; being yourself is the most important thing.

By the finale, the full-capacity crowd is singing, dancing, and without hesitation, on their feet in a standing ovation. Undoubtedly, The Glitter Garden is a must-see that will bring colour and sparkle into the lives of kids and ‘big kids’ alike.

Freya Daly Sadgrove and Karin McCracken have been in a ‘safe space’ for some time. Joel Baxendale shows up late with a big bag of onions. His tardiness might ruin things for the group, which now includes the audience. We don’t know much about the situation except that the outside world is bad. No one can leave, and we must be seated come nightfall.

With the audience seated in a large circle, interaction is a key component of Werewolf. Some members rise to the challenge, with one particularly hilarious spectator yelling at Joel to “follow the rules” and “get in the cupboard” at increasing intervals. We are given cards to explain our ‘roles’ in the community, but only a handful of us are called upon. As a community support officer, I am on edge waiting for a task that doesn’t come.

Together, the highly effective sound design (Oliver Devlin) and lighting design (Marcus McShane) cause collective anxiety – especially at night – and build to a nerve-wracking climax filled with disturbing tableaux. The ending itself is a little confused, with standing audience members unsure of where to go as the actors make an unassuming exit. It’s not quite the right note of chaos to go out on but has all the markings of an unforgettable conclusion.

Inverlochy Art School is said to be haunted, a fact underutilised in this performance. I was expecting a Fear Factory haunted house experience, where werewolves jump out of all the nooks and crannies and padlocked rooms yield up their secrets. While I’m glad this wasn’t the case, the unnerving energy of the space only contributed marginally to my experience of Werewolf, which I feel could have been performed anywhere.

Werewolf: Development Season is a clever commentary on mob mentality and fearmongering; how quickly humans can turn into monsters. I enjoyed being part of the innovative experiment and applaud the risks taken. I can’t wait to see where to next.

Charting the seas of global panic and individual turmoil, HOLE sets the viewer on an educational yet thrilling voyage. With director David O’Donnell at the helm, HOLE leaves an impression on everyone in attendance.

HOLE traverses the delicate ice of both Antarctica and the political atmosphere of 1986. The show is set in the climate of the following: portions of Antarctica are being fought over by various countries, Greenpeace radically works to undermine such debates, and just to add more chaos to the world, the ozone layer has been found to have gaping holes that leave everything to the mercy of the Sun. To say the world of HOLE is chaotic is an understatement. However, Lynda Chanwai-Earle has written it in such a way that the viewer can not only clearly follow the plot, but also enjoy a full immersion into it.

The clever sound design (Phil Brownlee) and Gareth Farr’s composition works with the lighting design (Tony Black) to help guide the viewer throughout the various shifts in setting. These are vital to HOLE’s success as a story that leaves the audience thinking, but not entirely confused.

The performances of the cast members are nothing short of spectacular. I am convinced that Stevie Hancox-Monk left me with whiplash from her incredibly impressive shifts in character. Elle Wootton ensnares characters and audience members alike with her impassioned performance. And it can go without saying that the reach and command Sepelini Mua’au’s performance has over the audience is a wonder to behold. Under Carrie Thiel’s direction in intimacy and fighting, a consistent level of professionalism is achieved by all performers.

At its core, HOLE strives to illustrate the ongoing struggle of humankind; our inability to unite for common causes. Its reality was one lived differently but felt in common by everyone in the world. There is much we can take away from HOLE, especially during 2020, and that in itself is a reason to see it.

It’s true, drag is about more than just a pretty face. The performers of The Hot Spot: A Lip-Sync Drag Show are here to do exactly what the show’s name implies – lip-sync like their lives depend on it.

The Fringe Bar is filled with a socially distanced audience, each with our own cabaret table bubbles. The show starts with the entrance of Eva Goodcoq, the sparkly hostess whose vibrant energy compensates for the quiet crowd of 35 (thanks, Level 2). After her fierce lip-sync to a Donna Summer hit, Eva puts us to work with a warmup, preparing us to scream, cheer, and click zealously.

One by one, the performers take their turn under the spotlight (tech by Pierce Barber). Whether their song is one I’ve never heard (Kou Bolt’s colourful and energetic anime-inspired number) or a banger from my favourite musical ever (Homer Neurotic’s wholesome and on-theme Beauty School Dropout from Grease), these “mouth-mashers” have me desperate for more... which is exactly what I’m given.

I was expecting the powerful lip-syncing, but not the exciting flashes of sparkly pink excess nipples by Selina Simone, or being left almost in tears after Willy SmacknTush’s passionate ballad, Dancing On My Own. Amy Thurst delivers a killer performance, then comedically rolls off the stage in her skin-tight dress. Yonic Kunt slays a Mariah Carey number, and in Eva’s words, “I’ve never seen a little black dress working so hard” at restraining her ginormous silicone breasts. The stand-out for me was Vixie; with a satisfying costume reveal, her innocent princess façade and Frozen lip-sync turned into a Disney-imbued version of WAP. I wasn't the only audience member whose jaw dropped in delight.

The performers deliver quirky concepts, elaborate reveals, and emotional storytelling without detracting from the focus on lip-syncing. Despite a couple of high-heeled stumbles and costume malfunctions, The Hot Spot exceeded expectations – it’s safe to say I’ll be returning when the show comes around again.