When an opening night at BATS is greeted by a hugely supportive audience of friends and colleagues, I find myself wondering how the show would be received in a small town venue – Twizel, perhaps, on the Arts On Tour circuit. Which is not to say the affirmation of the performing arts whānau is not important. It’s actually heart-warming to behold. Such is the case with Jackson Burling’s contribution to this year’s TAHI Festival, Over and Out.

The premise is that Jackson’s Dad is a truck driver, Jackson has chosen a career in the performing arts, while working in a gym to pay the rent, and now he’s testing his decision to “Never be a truck driver!” by interviewing one – not his father but a truckie he calls Murphy – in order to make a show. And this time he is also venturing into Verbatim Theatre.

When Jackson brought office cleaner Francis, his clown, to the 2023 Fringe in Caution Wet Floor (having tested him in Tahi’s HATCH show the year before), I wrote: “Reality and fantasy, disappointment and joy, desire and hubris foxtrot with each other in this compelling microcosm of the human condition.” He drew us into the world of Francis, albeit with subtle audience connection glances according to clowning conventions, as he stimulated our imaginations.

This time, Jackson makes no bones about this being him, Jackson, doing a performance. He explains and demonstrates the conventions of role-playing in a highly amusing way, teasing us with glimpses of Murphy, and riffs on the principles of Verbatim Theatre. Jackson also assures us it’s not one of those self-reflective shows about finding yourself. The audience loves it – not least his impeccable timing when interacting with the explanatory text that magically appears on a screen (Set & Projection Designer: Rebekah de Roo; Operator: Ethan Cranefield). We love his ‘business’ with his classic truckie’s cap and actor’s water bottle, too. Audience connection – tick.

How can we not care, then, when he reveals his quest is to confirm his decision not to become a truck driver, like his father before him. He knows the downsides and, having connected with Murphy and his massive Kenworth fresh off the ferry, he’s expecting to prove himself right as they head up the highway.

Although Murphy is securely settled in a leather seat and the screen-projected light effects suggest they are driving, Jackson and his director, Simon Leary, have chosen not to manifest the minutiae of actual driving with a (mimed or physical) steering wheel, gear-shift, dashboard controls, rear vision mirrors, etc. There is, however, an actual CB Radio set-up on the floor that treats us to unintelligible exchanges of truckie-speak.

So we don’t get to juxtapose the sense of being enclosed in a cab while engaging with the wide-open spaces and the imagined places provoked by conversation. And I can’t help but feel that if Murphy’s affable chat – exquisitely rendered verbatim in cadence as well as contents – was offset by the exacting rigours of controlling a massive rig on the open road, there’d be more dramatic tension to intensify our admiration of Jackson’s performance skills.

The meta theatrics prevail, however. Then, having been lulled into a passive complacency by having everything spelled out on the way, it takes me a moment to realise I need to change gears and tune into the subtext, to realise that expectations are being subverted, to intuitively interpret the metaphorical symbolism of a dodgy table lamp and a cracked windscreen …

Alongside the life-choice questions, a new dimension emerges involving his relationship with his father that I feel requires our empathy. But somehow I’ve lost the human connection with Jackson and his quest. Instead I have an intellectual understanding that what he was trying to avoid is coming to pass while I’m objectively observing the theatrics. I also sense there is a deeper resonance in the title: Over and Out.

I guess what I’m asking is, is the performance and production-values tail wagging the human tale? Is the impressive truck obscuring our appreciation of its cargo?  

What would they make of it in Twizel?

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