I was drawn to My Puppet Who Sighs in Pearl Shavings by its wonderfully poetic title. A few minutes into watching the play, I’m starting to wonder if I made a mistake. Why am I watching someone standing behind a couch relating a creation myth like some 21^st-century oracle against a backdrop of loud, brooding electronic music? Where’s all this going?

Fast forward to the end – I’m a convert. For me, My Puppet is sad, funny, touching and well-crafted. Does it make the audience work to catch onto, or at least glimpse, what it’s saying? Maybe, but at its heart I find a convincing, moving story of an individual trying to piece together the fragments of their own life while navigating through a world that can be indifferent, bizarre and cruel.

The sole character is Cass (Raven Harvey-Lomas), described in the publicity material as an anxious-avoidant trans person. Cass lives in Wellington after the onset of a “slow and fairly boring apocalypse.” Post-apocalyptic Wellington sounds quite similar to the pre-apocalyptic version apart from not having Internet.

She’s been in therapy (but her therapist told her to pull herself together and get a job). She’s cut off from her family. She’s been staying in a hotel on The Terrace which she can’t pay for. Her head is full of questions about her own identity, along with a stream of stories from a mythical saga of her own devising in which she herself may be a lofty figure of transcendent proportions.

Roughly speaking, the action of the play is Cass talking about her experiences and what’s going on around her, interspersed with presentations from her mythical narrative. The narrative tends towards the poetic, symbolic and cosmic, and seems to tell of the decline of humankind from a perfect ideal and the struggle of elemental opposites to reunite through love. I don’t pretend to understand it, I’m not even sure if I’m supposed to, but I can see how it mirrors and completes Cass’s fragmented inner life.

What makes My Puppet accessible for me is the patience, honesty and dry humour with which Cass goes about the task of identifying the pieces of her life, understanding them and trying to fit them together. It takes me a little while to warm up to her particular style – which tends towards the flat and understated – but by the end of the play, I’m 100% on her side and hoping that she comes through okay.

The dystopian theme is well reflected in the look of Anne Amber’s set and in Scarlett Peckham’s score. The music is loud enough to make Harvey-Lomas barely audible at times, but this may be deliberate and convey some underlying symbolic message. Sound and lighting (designed by Gabriella Eaton) do an effective job on the night.

If you’ve read this far and are still wondering whether My Puppet is worth a look, I recommend this equally positive review by Maryanne Cathro from the play’s development season in 2025.

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I love to visit a winery and have the winemaker describe to me exactly what the wine is going to taste like as I take that first sip. The winemaker’s words really enhance the magic of the taste.

Tonight at BATS I had a similar experience.

We enter the Studio to a dramatically lit stage draped in white tulle and calico, laced with beams of light. Upon a calico draped chaise longue sits a still figure dressed in black string. Among this black and white scene our eyes are drawn to their wavy red locks. Over this dramatic visual is a soundscape that has me instantly hooked.

I don’t really understand this piece and I’m perfectly happy about that. I don’t really understand wine, but I know what I like when I taste it. To quote the promo material, “The story of all of us will be narrated directly to you, spoken dark and queer, over bright sound, under hot lights” and it is!

It’s a story of gods, of living in Wellington, of a life being lived. It’s a moodscape of anecdotes and moments from life – sometimes laugh-out-loud funny and relatable, sometimes surreal and confusing. It is far from my life experience, but I am hanging on every word, even when I cannot properly hear.

I am none the wiser as to what sighing in pearl shavings means, but the thing I like about it is, it sets an expectation that we are not there to follow a plot, we are there to witness an emotional journey.

Raven Harvey-Lomas is writer, director and performer. It is their first time performing and as an emerging artist they hit the ground with a bang. This piece may be billed as a solo show but the set and costume (Anne Amber), lighting (Gabriella Eaton) and sound (Scarlett Peckham) are characters in their own right, making this land as a true ensemble effort.

If Landfish Productions keeps bringing this level of production values, originality and style to our stages, and I am confident they will, they are a team to watch.

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