The Curse of Blablahland – Directed by: Pauline Calme

We enter the propeller stage to find the entire cast on stage blissfully chatting with each other: Anneke Wisner, Cass Rowles, Clayton Pearce, Cordellia Black, Fanny Brach, Jerome Cousins, Linda Calgaro, Lyndon Hood, Matt Hutton, Trubie-Dylan Smith, Wiremu Tuhiwai. All are costumed in bright equivalents of rural New Zealand attire.

A wold premiere, the show begins with some impressive lighting and an engaging voice over introducing the premise of the show: that in the town of Blahblahland, people talk so much that no one ever listens to each other. Thus, the gods have decided to render the people of Blahblahland unable to speak.

An improv show in which the performers cannot speak is an extremely bold concept and props should be given to the improvisers and the director who take on this challenge.

Seeing the people of the town discovering they are unable to speak is a lot of fun and provides a wonderful juxtaposition from the pre-show chattering. Performers interpret this affliction in different ways so we have a variety of reactions and attempts to speak. As the characters become more and more hopeless they retreat to the sides and back of stage.

After a few moments, one character steps forward and begins to move. Accompanied by a rather intense dance beat, his movements begin to match the music. Soon he is dancing rather excitedly. This elicits a lot of joyful reactions from the audience. After this success another performer steps forward, replacing the first, and begins their own dance to their own sound track. Again the audience enjoys the nonsense of this and a lot of comedy come from the dancings.

However, by the time a third performer steps forward and does the same thing, the audience has become a bit bored. This would be the perfect moment to ‘break the routine’ but no … The repetition is a little tedious.

After a series of individual dances / movements, some play between characters begins, much to the enjoyment of the audience. The most rewarding and entertaining moments come when the whole cast are involved. The cast is able to tell some very interesting stories, complete with satisfying arcs and compelling climaxes. Many of the performers create intriguing characters who have deep and complicated relationships with each other. Considering none are able to speak, this is a laudable achievement.

The format of the show means that everything was exacerbated. If an offer from one performer to another is accepted and acted upon, it is hugely successful. If an offer is ignored, it is palpably uncomfortable. When performers are ‘listening’ to each other and playing off each other, the audience is engaged and entertained. When it appears performers are playing selfishly, the audience is confused and concerned.

Throughout the show it becomes more and more obvious that there is a big difference in skill level between cast members. The format of the show allows for strong performers with skill in movement, dance and clown to really shine but punishes performers who are not as capable of telling stories without dialogue. There are many times when performers who are at the side of stage look bored or anxious and this really affects the mood of the room.

The premise of the show is fantastically brave and sets a great challenge for the performers. In a way, it feels like watching a football game played with a ‘skills ball’ i.e. it is great practice for the participants and there were moments of absolute magic throughout, however it is not always satisfying entertainment for the audience. I wonder if this is the type of show that would be best performed by well-prepared and trained improvisers.

This format has a great deal of potential and all involved should be very proud of what they’ve been able to achieve.
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#Hashtag – Directed by Jak Vukasinovic

#Hastag: an improvised show in which the ‘ask fors’ (audience suggestions for scenes) are provided by audience members tweeting @NZIF using the hashtag.

We are warmly welcomed into a very relaxed space by the show’s director Jak Vukasinovic. The space is relatively empty, lit with a relaxing cool blue. Projected onto the wall is the NZIF Twitter feed with all of the tweeted suggestions. The inclusion of the projection provides two stories throughout the evening: what is happening on stage and what is happening in the twitter feed (shout out to WIT star Dianne Pulham for her prolific and entertaining tweeting).

The show begins with a quick and delightful introduction/explanation of the premise by Jak.  She has such an affable and approachable manner that within seconds she makes the audience feel like they have known her for years; that the thrill of our friendship is ever-present. Jak discusses the importance and the complexities of social media with a gentle irony which makes me feel like this show is especially ephemeral.

Soon the cast of Aaron Pyke, Amanda Buckley, Ali Little, Jennifer O’Sullivan, Luke Rimmelzwaan and Steven Lyons is welcomed onto the stage. It is immediately obvious that this is a confident and skilled group of improvisers. There is a lovely camaraderie between the performers; it’s clear they are looking forward to playing with each other. 

Throughout the show, performers read the hashtags coming in over the projection and begin scenes based on their interpretations of them. Some interpretations of the suggestions are genius and original, others are interpreted literally. It is a big sin in improv (and playwriting) to tell the audience what they already know. So the more original and unexpected interpretations lead to the most entertaining and compelling scenes, but the hashtags that are interpreted as the audience expect them to be are rather bland.

The constant stream of suggestions means there is no dead air between scenes. It also means that if a scene on stage isn’t working it can be quickly replaced with a new suggestion and the stage is refreshed. There are times when the suggestions on the twitter feed seem to take all the focus of the players at side-of-stage, rendering them unable to listen to what is happening on stage; at least not to the degree that is necessary with improv. This leads to players, inspired by a new hashtag, interrupting scenes at pivotal moments, when the audience is thoroughly invested in them.

The hashtags lead to some very interesting scenes: Anthor, god of Ants; The weirdest date ever; The Minister of Apples having to ask Fiji for more apples; murderous robots becoming unsatisfied with violence; a postbox falling in love with a popstar … etc.

Special shout out to the musician, Jamie Burgess. Burgess has sharp instincts and is able to quickly work out what music will suitably score the scenes. The variations on the National Anthem to support the NZ politics scenes are particularly appropriate. One of the more moving moments in the show is when the players begin a scene about hugging and Burgess lightly tapped out ‘Lean On Me’. It is beautiful.

Just a gentle reminder to the players though: if the audience suggests something that makes one of the performers uncomfortable, listen to that player and respond appropriately. The player who is made to do a scene he is obviously uncomfortable with does it with grace and soldiers on for the sake of the show (props to him for that), but that moment makes the audience rather uncomfortable.

Over all the show #Hashtag is absolutely lovely. The players are funny and interesting, the scenes are dynamic, and the pace and rhythm of the show is generally solid. The #Hashtag premise of the show is very strong, it is easy to imagine this becoming a regular show; after all, its improv and no two shows are ever the same. 

[Note: The Curse of Blahblahland, also presented on Day 2, will be reviewed by Sam later today.]

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