Last Wednesday Downstage hosted a Writers and Readers week lunchtime forum of playwrights called WHY ISN’T THEATRE DEAD YET? Ken Duncum and Dave Armstrong were joined by British playwright Robert Shearman, who kept using the Circa production of Gary Henderson’s Peninsula as a prime example of what theatre does best. Only theatre allows us to accept adult actors playing children and their parents, or a teacher and a dog, with no change of costume, switching instantly from one to another. It trusts us to get it and believe it. A film would cast real children and a dog and something magical would be lost (cf. the stage vs the film versions of War Horse).  

It’s theatre that offers the ultimate magic of ‘make believe’, of willing suspension of disbelief, of having our imaginations stimulated and our consciences pricked, of engaging strongly at a level of human empathy. That’s what makes live theatre worth our investment of time, money and attention.

Yes, of course the other production values – spectacle, illusion, whimsy, visceral action and the design elements – are good to have too but without empathy, subjective involvement, the work becomes objectified; more plastic arts than performing arts; more passive than active.

The theatre content of the festival could be grouped as Solos, Shakespeares, Spectacle and Relatively Straight Theatre – with war as a recurring theme. 

Of the Solos dealing with war, Taki Rua’s Michael James Manaia rates highest for story content, visceral action, empathy and design elements. It’s a powerful performance from Te Kohe Tuhaka. Private Peaceful from the UK’s Scamp Theatre compels us to see how dehumanising war can be, we feel strong compassion for Alexander Campbell’s Tommo, but it’s let down by poor sound and scenery. Could it have been more creatively staged …?

Let’s face it, NZ leads the world in ingeniously devised solo shows so the bar is already high for us. Of the two other solos, Leo with Tobias Wegner from Germany’s Circle of Eleven, offers terrific illusion and could draw more empathy from us, as could Frequently Asked Questions: To Be or Not To Be fromAuckland’s Royale Productions, which was nevertheless very strong on whimsy and performance. Michael Hurst’s Macbeth fighting with his Hamlet is a memorable highlight.  

The Propeller productions of Shakespeare’s Henry V and The Winter’s Tale were strong and clear. Although the former was let down by a weak-voiced Henry and the battles were tame, the latter brought fantastic design elements to the Bohemia scenes. But personally I see no value in the all male casting. Even if they’d cast boys whose voices hadn’t broken in the female roles, as in Elizabethan times, they would still be perpetuating the misogynistic prejudices of yore. The distraction of having to accommodate males playing females adds no value for me. Besides, the best actors by far in The Rehearsal, Playing the Dane were the two women, in what I otherwise saw as a somewhat pointless and finally pretentious show fromIreland’s Peter Pan.  

The top Shakespeare for me was Ngaakau Toa’s The Maori Troilus and Cressida which is heading to Auckland then to London for the Globe to Globe festival. That a lesser-known play performed (without surtitles) in a language I do not speak could be communicated so clearly and have such an impact on a full house attests to an impressive array of performance skills which inexorably connect humans to each other.  

Spectacle, illusion and whimsy supported the empathy we felt for James Thiérée’s  Raoul, from France. His clowning skills are what draw us into his predicament and compel us to share his extraordinary experience. And in Circus Ronaldo’s Circenses from Belgium, which uses all the values of commedia dell’arte to get us relating to their idiosyncratic characters, it’s the backstage boy who aspires to a greater role on stage who especially compels our empathy. 

And at the other end of the scale, size-wise, pre-schooler show White, from the UK company Catherine Wheels, had heart as well as magic, and we couldn’t help but empathise with the character who wanted to add colour to their lives. Masi from Nina Nawalowalo’s The Conch – a New Zealand/UK/Fiji combo – included superb illusions which required mind-boggling discipline from the unseen operators. And it could also go deeper with the human story; share the quest and experience more engagingly. 

There was some lovely whimsy and excellent performance elements in Kneehigh’s The Wild Bride from the UK, although I found the premise flawed (the contract with the Devil is for everything in the father’s back yard; the daughter’s state of cleanliness etc was never specified in the deal). The Animals and Children Took to the Streets, by 1927 also from the UK, includes brilliant audio-visual work but its moral – ‘forget the poor people, they’re irredeemable’ – discomforted me, which was (I hope) the point.

There was powerful performance spectacle in Beautiful Burnout from the national Theatre of Scotland (andUK’s Frantic Assembly), and it told the truth about boxing, but I didn’t find the monologue format conducive to empathy. Maybe that horrible TSB Arena space worked against it.

Tawata Productions’ very theatrical Tu – by Hone Kouka, inspired by Patricia Grace’s novel – was a major highlight for me. By focusing on how war affects one whanau it probes many dimensions of our being: a very rich taonga indeed.

So, out of all that, what was the most magical moment for me? It is in Peninsula (still on at Circa until 31 March), The 10 year-old kids are throwing stones –imaginary; they mime it – at a mentally retarded and therefore unpopular girl (also unseen). And after the others realise they’ve gone too far and it’s wrong, Michael, the central character who we have come to know very well and care about a lot, keeps going. Stone after stone. And we have to deal with it. We have to work out why, and why the others just stand and watch, and we do because we have felt such empathy with him; with them all. We’ve all been there at some point in our lives. We know that another unresolved social injustice has led to this one … We work it out in the silent space provided. We get it. And the ‘satisfaction’ we gain from this is directly related to what we’ve been provoked to contribute.

So the New Zealand productions have been right up there with the highlights of this festival. And if this was a world cup tournament that would be the most important thing to all New Zealanders! OK, it’s not a competition – except all the shows are competing for ticket sales … It’s a celebration of artistic excellence. And we should certainly celebrate what we have brought to this pot-luck feast of exotic and homegrown fare. 

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