The energy at Circa Theatre is buzzing tonight, for the opening night of Kia Mau Festival.

The stage in the Circa One theatre space is set richly in the pieces of Samoan communal life. I feel I should say that, as a palagi/pākeha woman I, am watching without personal experience of the language and lives and places and cultures woven.

A Master of None: Brown Fala is written, directed and composed by Lila Crichton who also performs in this ensemble piece. Lila’s voice is phenomenal, the kind where you stop breathing for a bit. I utter many a stunned “woooah” under my breath during this piece, thanks to the incredible vocals by the cast: Luchiano Tuioti, Iris Little, Adah Setefano, Jillian Tupuse, Veititi Alapati, Manalani Halatanu, Hayden Nickel, Māia-te-oho Holman-Wharehoka, Ensai August, Masunu Tuua, Masi Smith. 

The voices. The voices. When they first come in together, loud, resonating, it’s skin-chillingly beautiful. The performer who sings the final solo has the most beautiful voice – I could listen to her sing for hours. I find it hard to cry these days but I finally feel the release of tears when she sings, which I am grateful for.

There are so many moments that soothe and stroke the sensory experience of being here in this room. One of them is when the stunning lead playing Sina catches what I think is birds, collecting them and bringing them to her fire. This show allows moments to linger and last, with genius use of sound to bring the world into every nook of the space. Watching someone move, react to the world around them, just be in the space without need for dialogue or structured narrative is a good reminder of theatre’s many possibilities.

Until tonight I wasn’t aware of the Samoan story of Sina and the Eel, used to usher us into the surrounding message of this piece. Sina’s space, and body, and love are invaded by a king in disguise, a man whose advances she does not want. Read more about the story here. From here, the more immediate political/social message of the story is formed.

One of the things I really love about this piece is that it allows the message to float to us and around us, and through us. It doesn’t slam down on us causing us to look away. We’re presented with all facets of life, the joy, connection, love, quiet moments, bursts of energy and lulls of dreamy friendship. These parts of life go on even when there are those other parts… the parts we don’t speak of, or we speak of in hushed voices and then move on. Even if you are not from the community this show is speaking from, you can likely understand this, in your own world.

I really love how this isn’t a show that says “Men are bad. Women are victims.” It is so much more than that, because it often is. In one of the songs, he says (paraphrasing) “what did you expect from me with the mess I was left?”, making us think not just of the horror of violence but also of the horror of inheriting harmful dynamics.

The abuse itself is only literal in very very small doses, but otherwise is shown with gentle yet impactful theatrical methods. This, to me, is the best way to bring issues such as these home. That’s why theatre is so powerful, it can bypass the parts of our brain that go “it’s horrible, I am shutting off now”. It can go “this is how something might feel that you haven’t thought of yet… This is how something might feel in a different part of your body, spark a different part of your mind…”. Sometimes, overt violence can make us focus only on recovering from what we’ve just seen rather than thinking about what’s beneath and around that act, which we can take with us afterward and continue to investigate in our own lives.  

It’s a brave and confronting thing to do, to speak of the unspoken. Even if you come from an entirely different cultural and experiential background, you can be right there inside the emotional current of this show. ‘The unspoken’ happens on the macro, in cultures, but it happens on the micro too, in your family, in your relationship, within yourself with just you and you. These hidden, unspoken and shrouded things are often not simply explained, they’re entwined with years or generations of power dynamics and passed-on traumas and walls that are hard to scale to see over the other side; to where the unspoken is a piece of history in the rear-view mirror.

At the end of the show, Lila speaks to the audience with a simple (paraphrased), “There are heavy topics in this show and I just want to encourage you to talk. Just talk to each other”.

I’ve really loved this show. I come away feeling many things including joy and hope, and the desire to be more mindful of what’s unspoken.

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What a wonderful start to the NZ Fringe! A Master of None: Brown Fala is an emotive, generous and  thought-provoking work with a universal message, a  dark underbelly and an uniquely Samoan voice. 

There is  an expectant and excited full house at the Te Auaha – Tapere Nui Theatre.  This venue is buzzing with Fringe activity and totally contributes to the creative fabric of our city.  Survival of this space is essential. This is a perfect work to be opening in this threatened space. 

A Master of None : Brown Fala speaks to survival and to making the world a better and more equal place. The stage is festooned with cloth and threads that symbolise the fabric of a community and the  importance of gathering together the voices and narratives of that community. 

Movement / choreography is by Luciano Tuioti and she is also a key performer on this journey to weave the mat (fala) of relationships. Her  dance is intimate and very personal and very very beautiful. Gestural hands and fluid arms keep the message close yet let us in to contemplate the care, suffering and joy of humanity. 

Composition led by Lila LJ Crichton with Hayden Nickel  and with Ensai August (percussion), Masuna Tu’ua (piano),  Maaia-te-oho Holman- Wharehoka (guitar & Bass). They, and their players, together make  powerful and sophisticated music. The songs are  an inspirational part of making the fala. The voices of both chorale and solo singing are passionate and strong throughout. Solos by Iris Little and Adah Setefano are particularly poignant. Lila LJ Crichton himself is a formidable performer. 

As indicated in the title this work is based on the fala – the mat making activity and the mats of Samoan culture are used throughout and provide the gathering place for this sharing and weaving, shielding and exposing of thoughts. 

There is  immense integrity in the telling of these personal stories. They are the stories not only of these  people but of us all and, by association they are the stories of our world. It is an intimate setting and one the audience enters into for a magical and intense hour.  

Thank you to Lila LJ Crichton who directs this work. He brings his personal vision onstage to make it happen, but it is clearly  a team effort and it is an honour to spend time on the journey of this production and to take time to  respect the threads that bind this special cast. 

Thank you all for your artistic voices , for your music making, for your bravery and compassion in making us think, relate and respond to your stories. The best art makes us look inward as well as outward. This is it.

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer