Half an hour before the show starts, the foyer of the Herald Theatre is bounding with energy. This makes a nice difference from the sterile space it is normally, with the ‘renovation’ five years ago making it even worse by closing it off from natural light entirely with what looks like builders’ white plasterboard walls. As we walk towards it, we see several clusters of people looking lost and scanning the building for the theatre that is right in front of them. And they’re right: from the outside, The Herald is barely recognisable as a theatre. (Sorry, just needed to get that off my chest).

Back to that busy foyer, though. There are toddlers in pushchairs choosing their cup of lollies from the bar, and kids (well, mainly their parents) colouring in and cutting out frog paper puppets. There are children jumping into the makeshift puppet theatre to battle each other with hand-rod puppets. My son gets into a good-natured puppet brawl with a kid he doesn’t know, both giggling away. There’s even a screened off breastfeeding area, the first time I’ve seen one in a foyer (bravo!).

This is just the thing to put us in the right mood for the show. As the programme notes, Taniwha has had a long gestation – beginning after the Silo’s successful season of Peter and The Wolf in 2017, showcasing the handcrafted, live-performance, theatre-into-film aesthetic that defines many of creator Leon Radojkovic’s original staged works.

Taniwha takes this one step further by aiming to be a completely Aotearoa-grounded work. To do this, local creative makers have collaborated with environmental scientist and Mātauranga Māori expert Dr Dan Hikuroa to craft an original story, steeped in the themes of environmental action. Taniwha is nominally a children’s story but also carries a deeper message of community empowerment and collaboration.

Radojkovic worked with Silo Theatre artistic director Sophie Roberts to flesh out aspects of the approach and story, then early on in the process brought in many other design collaborators: Rachel Marlow for lighting, Jon Coddington on puppets, Daniel Williams as set designer. The list of acknowledgements hints that many other creatives were involved during the years-long workshopping process. The in-programme essay by Sam Brooks talks about the ‘iterative’ process used – in which each piece of the work is built through successive design offers – versus generative (devised) or interpretative (rehearsed from script). I thought the essay was a great read, and a smart and luxurious alternative to the brief statements from director and writer found usually in programmes.

But back (again) to the show. The audience was buzzing as we sat down. Before us was a compact seating arrangement for the musicians (violin, toy piano, keyboard, yanqin, taonga puoro and flute) and narrator, and a ‘set’ area with multitiered tables, cameras and screens for digitally projected images. Above all this was a screen for the final ‘product’ – the show’s ‘film’. But of course, this being theatre, the making of the show is the real show.

Taniwha is recommended for audiences 5 and over. There were much younger audience members in attendance, and this was definitely not an issue. The preshow announcement – encouraging families to go outside or return according to comfort – set the tone. (The Herald’s anachronistic ‘crying room’ was not needed for this show and, as I exited later, I saw it had been closed off with a cone). I had brought two eleven-year-olds and a husband as co-reviewers, but luckily a group of eloquent children and their patient grandmother were also seated behind me.

As soon as the performers entered the anticipation spilled over into applause. It’s a big team: on stage are four musicians (Leon Radojkovic, Peau Halapua, J Y Lee and Rebecca Zhang), a narrator (Jarod Rawiri today), and the puppetry/staging team (Jon Coddington, Talia Pua and Maddy Powell). Off stage there are two operators (Ratu Gordon and Ella Madsen Brough) handling the sound and lighting cues. With the pace of the show, all the performers have a job requiring fierce concentration. They play two shows a day, five days a week. Incredible and tiring just thinking about it.

This is a show where it’s impossible to see everything in one showing.  A full musical soundtrack, a 45-minute original score by Radojkovic, is played live. The narrator reads a short story. And on miniature sets, with input from at least two cameras mixed live and projected, just three people animate the whole thing with meticulously crafted 2-D paper puppets and 3-D sets, against digitally animated backgrounds. They say in film never to work with children and animals; in theatre, the thing to avoid where possible is technology, especially complex technology that has to work flawlessly in synchrony for the show to succeed. Silo has ignored this ancient wisdom, and their gamble has paid off in a bold show that breaks new ground and is lush in its creative offering.

Speaking of ancient wisdoms though, the show’s story premise is simple: an ancient taniwha, who has bonded with the humans who live around its pond, is threatened by the encroachment of urban developers. What happens next is rather predictable from a story point of view. If I had one criticism of the show it would be that it could have benefitted from adding a writer to its venerable line up of creatives, one who could have added a few plot surprises, cut down extraneous text, layered in some extras for the grown-ups, laced in some sly jokes, and helped develop characters more deeply. I fully admit for the purposes of this review that I am biased – I’m a playwright and heavily invested in promoting the idea that the best devised pieces are the ones with writers involved.

Where the real magic lies – and the show is magical for its target audience – is in watching the actual making process. If I were watching the show again, I’d opt for a seat close to the front where I can watch the tiny movements and the unveiling of the craft behind the magic. I marvelled at how silently the puppeteers weaved behind and around the tables, how quietly they lifted each set into place and pulled out puppets, the balletic choreography of hands and bodies testament to those hours and hours of rehearsal. The musicians too were weaving in and out musically, some swapping instruments. There was so much going on that it was easy to miss dialogue or plot points if I was looking in the wrong direction at the wrong moment. Did I say predictable plot? Genius!

The music is gorgeous, the tiny orchestra providing bang for buck. The Chinese dulcimer or yanqin is a rare instrument for NZ but provided just the right magical bell-like tones. My favourite ‘musical effect’ though was when large leaves fringing the band setup are shaken to provide sound effects. The toy piano is something of a Radojkovic trademark, but he’s great with many weird sound makers and endlessly inventive at combining unusual instruments and musical styles from around the world. Hisaishi/Miyazaki was cited as one of his influences this time, but there was a bit of Prokofiev, too.

Set design is also detailed, with paper sculpture being the dominant aesthetic. Although the collaboration with crochet artists Lissy & Rudi Robinson-Cole is much trumpeted in the publicity, in reality their influence on the set pieces used for the show is muted, with their trademark fluorescent crochet pieces used sparingly. Jon Coddington showed why his name comes up every time puppetry is discussed in Aotearoa: his mastery of designing puppets simple to operate but expressive was on display in every character. I loved the moment when the tiny ruru puppet’s head slid sideways, eliciting a charmed ‘ooo’ from the audience. Perspective was well explored with puppets swooping in and out of the camera view and use of masking with keyholes and semi opaque screens including a fantastic rain effect. I loved seeing the difference between what I could see in real life and what it looked like on screen.

The final verdict? Mr 11 and his best mate were unanimous in declaring ‘it was great!’. They both enjoyed the detail and the idea of watching a show being made in front of them. I was also treated to enjoyable in-show commentary from the row behind me such as:

• But I thought Taniwhas were scary!
• I’m not scared.
• Nah Taniwhas can be friendly.
• Ooh did you see that?

…showing great engagement with the story. I thought it was fun.

Taniwha is high quality, lush theatre which succeeds in appealing to its young audience, while also having plenty to keep older audiences engaged. It is of international festival standard, and I hope it can tour – it’s always risky making big works like this, and this piece fully deserves to succeed. Go see it.

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