‘Inspired by true events.’

That’s always a great hook, and it works especially well for ration the Queen’s veges. It’s contemporary, contentious, controversial, and courageous.

What’s more, we’re told from the stage that it’s all true.

Well, it’s mostly true.

Some of it is anyway.

Turns out I’m perfectly happy with that.

I’m also happy with the use of ‘Ten Guitars’ as aural wallpaper to anchor the work in te ao Māori even if my neighbours might have been less happy with my singing, if it can even be called that.

So many woolshed parties in the ‘70s.

We’re asked from the stage to think about how we came to be in this Māori place and to think about just exactly who we are.

Who we are, and how we identify?

It’s a nice touch – as much because we’ve all chosen to be in this Māori theatre space to take in a piece of Māori theatre that records a controversial event staged by Māori about te Tiriti, for some specific reason or other.

We’re given a comprehensive list from which to choose. My whānau decide they’re there because they’ve been invited (by me) and because they whakapapa Māori and are wankers. I decide I’m there because I’m Pakeha, an activist, and also a wanker (arts person).

Lots of laughter exudes from the darkness which suggests we might all be wankers.

Another question is asked that also rouses chuckles, gurgles, hoots, and snorts. It’s a cheap shot but it’s more than welcome, the elephant in the room squatting in the corner drooling over a $3 school lunch: ‘Is David Seymour really a Māori?’

I realise it’s me snorting.

Again, laughter ripples through the fullish house, and we’ve been engaged. Well done, that’s smart work.

The next seventy minutes are about change, inspiring change, and the random things that conspire to bring change about.

So, what’s the context?

Social justice action group ‘Te Waka Hourua’ set the country on fire in December 2023 when they painted over the ‘English Treaty of Waitangi Exhibition’ at Te Papa redacting it to read, ‘No. Her Majesty the Queen of England the alien. ration the Queens veges.’

I remember thinking at the time how great this was. Even better was the message sent that it seemed no-one tried to stop them.

Te Waka Hourua spokesperson Cally O’Neill says that the protesters planned their actions very carefully. She reminds us that ‘there’s a bunch of precedents for art as activism in Aotearoa and that was exactly the direction that we were going … The conversations that our protest have incited are conversations that Te Papa itself was reluctant to instigate, which is why we took that action.’

This play is another.

It’s hard to argue against art as activism – think Ralph Hotere, Tame Iti, John Ford, Red Mole, Colin McCahon – and, while the group insists its actions were not aimed at the government, the 100,000 people who joined the anti-Treaty Principles Bill hikoi, and the 330,000 who made submissions to the bill might respectfully choose to disagree, or at least say thank you.

This ‘redaction action’ provoked strong opinions throughout the motu – some loved it, others called for retribution.

The Prime Minister, when asked for his opinion, refused to comment either way, muttered something about vandalism, and tottered off to India.

While all of the art activists were charged, only one did prison time: Te Wehi Ratana, who was at the heart of the protest, and who joins playwright and director Tainui Tukiwaho in co-authoring this work. Te Wehi Ratana shares the story of his abseiling from the roof of the gallery to, as was said in court, ‘improve the quality of Te Papa’s exhibit Signs of a Nation by redacting much of the English version using wisely directed cans of black spray paint’.

While that’s exactly the narrative that hit the worldwide wires, in the context of this theatre work, it’s the 48 hours Te Wehi spent in Rimutaka Prison that resonates most. It is a story about the quiet voice of defiance that burns within us even when we are silenced – and an idea that his cellmate Brian devised that lit the flame whereby, using the prison currency of nicotine gum, they effectively continued the protest action from behind bars.

How, you ask?

Well, when Te Wehi arrives at Rimutaka Prison, he is given a month’s worth of nicotine gum even though he doesn’t smoke. Brian tells him that the gum is valuable prison currency, so they agree to offer pieces of gum to inmates in exchange for letters expressing how the men feel about Te Wehi painting over the Treaty. The promo material tells us that ‘the inmates see this as a platform to express themselves and many of the letters become intimate testimonies about their inner thoughts, feelings, personal desires and hopes and dreams for the future.’

A book containing all the letters follows.

How cool is that? Someone should tell Mark Mitchell. On second, and all subsequent thoughts, please don’t. He’ll only want to remove the gum.

Ngahiriwa Rauhina plays Te Wehi Ratana. His performance is a tour de force and he zips through the multiplicity of characters and situations with consummate ease. He’s charming, funny, serious when he needs to be, and he tells the complex story with clarity and honesty. He makes talking to offstage voices work extremely well and he fleetingly creates his prison mates – and there is an army of them – as real, flesh and blood beings which turns out to be a very moving process indeed. In solo works over an hour in length there is often a dead patch in the middle, but not so in ration the Queen’s Veges which zips over the wobbly cobblestones like a corgi in heat.

Rauhina is perfect in the role of Ratana hitting all the right notes and clearly enjoying doing so. We enjoy it too and the end comes all too soon. In saying this I’m not suggesting we’re left wanting more, just that what we’ve had has been a deeply pleasing meal and more would … I’m sure you catch my drift.

Tukiwaho’s direction is the same, it’s just right. It’s deft and avoids the pitfalls of self-indulgence that can come with performances that rely heavily on the personality of the actor. The balance is perfect just as it is.

The script is great, and I like it very much. With this being a debut season there will be a temptation to tinker and considering this option would certainly be wise. In the same breath however, it’s damn good as it is so maybe best leave well alone. I’d love to be a fly on the wall during that kōrero.

The set is top notch (Nicole Marsh) with plenty of surfaces for projections and great options for getting on and off, which is always important with solo shows.

It’s appropriate to end by saying that Te Wehi Ratana’s hand is all over the work as, indeed, it should be. Tukiwaho has seen to that. Ratana’s courage and tenacity is there is spades and long may he continue to lead an effective life of courageous activism.

It’s awesome to welcome someone of his quality to our fantastic world of theatre ‘wankers’. We’re not a bad bunch, given all in all.

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