Three people, all of them connected, arrive in a motel room in Gisborne. They talk, they drink wine, they exchange stories, dance and sing a little. Revelations about their lives, relationships and dreams come out. Some of these are dramatic, some are harsh, others are bittersweet. We learn about what’s brought them here and where they’d like to go. And in the end … well, no spoilers allowed, but it strikes me as pretty ambiguous.

One of Run Coyote Run’s main strengths lies in its interesting, well-drawn characters (playwright Leroy Nurkka). Coyote is a poet and a dreamer, intense, flaky and sometimes a menace to himself and others. Lincoln Swinerd brings a warmth and vulnerability to the role that makes Coyote both convincing and likeable – quite the achievement, given what the character gets up to.

Joe, played by Dom Flanagan, is the responsible one in the relationship. He tries to curb Coyote’s excesses and keep him on the path to love and safety. Joe comes across as a nag at times, but you know he’s doing it out of love. He plays an important part as a foil and backstop to Coyote. Flanagan’s Joe is tender and a steadying influence at the same time.

Marianne, Coyote’s mum, is a real delight, thanks to the script and Ava O’Brien’s strong performance in the role. She’s eccentric, charming, vaguely hippyish, and devoted to Coyote and Joe, her “boys”. The progress of the relationship between Marianne and Coyote is central to the plot, and script and actors between them show a sure touch in bringing it to life.

Josephine, the house-proud motel proprietor, provides valuable ballast to the interplay between the other character, and has an independent life of her own. She’s ably portrayed by Peggie Barnes.

The script makes good use of monologues, often written in eloquent poetic language, for the purposes of exposition and to flesh out the main characters. At times, these work better on stage than the interactions between the characters, which don’t always have the same inspired fluency or conviction.

To me, the plot doesn’t always pass a basic practicality test. I keep thinking, ‘Could that really happen like that?’ This applies to load-bearing incidents like the one involving a dairy owner (can’t say more for spoiler reasons).

This is in contrast to the main emotional thread of the play, which I find both moving and sufficiently credible until the final scene. The actual ending of the play leaves me feeling more puzzled than anything else.

The production team (lighting designers Josiah Matagi and Ethan Cranefield, sound designer Alex Quinn, costume designer Ava O’Brien) have provided a serviceable frame for the actors. The set looks great, works well and makes intelligent use of BATS’ The Stage (set designer/builder: Anne-Lisa Noordover; set assistant: Nathan Arnott).

Kathy Keane has directed a production that lacks polish in places but is likeable and sympathetic, with a ton of heart.

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer