When the final bell of the year rings, the leavers books are filled to the brim with signatures, and the hostel students head back home, the silent, empty corridors, classrooms and dormitories belie the eclectic tales of angsty tragedies, unbreakable sisterhoods and the splitting headaches from kaiako trying to hold them all together.

The Remaining, written and directed by Waikamania Seve is a new work that speaks to the experience of boarding school life at an all-girls college, and sets out to reflect on “the complexities of belonging, resilience and identity” of said five-year journey. The show revolves around a group of five girls who have spent their entire college lives together at a boarding school, and as the final week of school draws near, secrets, fears and tears bubble to the surface and threaten to forever change the sisterhood bond between them.

The cast, as a collective and as individuals, does great justice to her words and her characters. Sailor is played by Waikamania herself. Refusing to eat anything, her obsessive nature with figure, fitness and appearance comes to the detriment of her wellbeing. Snappy, snarky and witty, her performance is a tempo setter, a punchline deliverer, and done so with grace and precision.

Whaea Brooke, played by Ocean Manutulila, is constantly one migraine away from telling the students to catch these hands. Militant, belligerent and over it, she upholds the rules of the school and keeps the girls in line. Ocean’s performance is a standout for me. She is electric and enthralling as Whaea Brooke, and her comedic sensibilities are well-honed and extremely sharp. You can’t help but be drawn to her.

Marama, performed by Tiare Savea, is often seen with her boyfriend Nikau (introductions later), and although appreciative of their relationship, is hesitant at his forceful advances of moving to the ‘next stage’. Tiare plays the anxious naiveté well, but grounds her performance with a layer of staunchness. Her performance makes her character journey a favourite to watch.

Lani, played by Ngareta River, is the equivalent to a fire-breathing dragon in human form. Every quip scorches like fire, insults and clap-backs delivered with the force of unfettered fury. Sometimes it’s banter. Most times it’s a defence mechanism, even more so by the reveal of her pregnancy test coming back positive. Ngareta is a master of controlled chaos, and always delivers a big rush of energy and momentum to a scene whenever she is present.

Zion, played by Dariah Hoeta-Williamson, strives for independence, doing whatever it takes to stand on her own two feet. Her strong headedness comes at a cost, however, as her methods and results feel less like gaining autonomy and more like self-inflicted isolation. Dariah’s performance is reminiscent of older sibling figures that hold all the stress of the world on their back and walk forward even when their legs wobble like a newborn fawn. A powerful performance delivered with a gentle edge, especially near the end.

Kaia, performed by Tia Ormsby, is a firecracker of delight, radiating joy and kindness to all that she comes across. That gets tested, however, when her attempts to rekindle her previous relationship with Zion is met with constant dismissal. Tia plays her pursuit of happiness with earnestness and utmost sincerity. We empathise with her and, amongst the chaos and angst, she becomes a breath of fresh air and gentle stillness.

Kahu and Nikau, played by Heinrich Muller and Wiremu Kingi respectively, provide a masculine spin to the scenarios. Kahu, the epitome of class clown, is a confidant for Zion. Unrequited feelings however, unfortunately make him look less like a potential partner and more like a hopeless romantic. Heinrich plays cheekiness and charm well, brings levity and has some standout moments that keep us hooked.

Nikau, the pushy, sleazy boyfriend to Marama, adds a straight dose of tragic reality to the show, bringing toxic masculinity and peer pressure right into the foray of the conversation. My compliments to Wiremu for undertaking the role of villain and playing it with full commitment to the character – when you make me hate your character with a passion, it means you did a brilliant job performing as them.

Taylor-Rose Terekia as Whaea Sue is the glue of the show that brings this all together. A longstanding kaiako of the boarding school, she sees each child that walks through these hallowed halls as her own, especially when she confides in Whaea Brooke that she unfortunately cannot have children herself. She is motherly, gentle and understanding, reminding me of our parents and grandparents who love so deeply, yet carry scars so deeply, and sometimes invisible too. Delivering her monologues with conviction and sincerity, her direct addresses tug at our heartstrings and have us all in tears.

The work of set designer Giulietta Whitney, and lighting and sound designer Maddie Payne, is well done. A couch with a back wall filled with notices, tattered posters and smoke-free/vape-free stickers remind me of the senior student-only common areas, and the dorm bunk bed with the worn-out rug quickly sets the scene with visual clarity. A chain of plastic fairy lights illuminating the bottom bunk and a wall filled with polaroids, reminds me of bedrooms of old friends daisy-chaining mountains of instax polaroids into fairy lights (the ones with the copper wiring exposed, if you know, you know) with mini pegs and hanging them above their desks and dressers.

A drape covering the centre door in the middle and a lavender coloured light allows for shadow play: a good workaround to allow us to bear witness to more intimate moments – without all the gory details.

I do have some feedback, however, primarily towards dialogue and its delivery. Sometimes the chaos of a huge collective of people talking at once becomes overwhelming, and the talking over each other means that some dialogue is lost in the noise – critical narrative info included. A combination of improved vocal projection from the performers, giving space for primary dialogue to take priority and ensuring that other voices and background voices quieten down a bit, would most likely fix this problem.

I also hope that some endings are given more time to breathe. They are satisfying as is, but do feel a bit rushed, as resolutions are instead quickly resolved to move onto the story beat. I felt this in particular with Zion, Kaia and Kahu’s storyline, as the conclusion of their arc feels like it is resolved too quickly to make way for the climactic scene afterwards. I would chalk this up to timing, as Fringe Festival is notorious for absurdly quick turnover times. But if this show does come back, I do hope that these scenes get expanded more, and we get to sit in those moments a bit longer to make the resolutions all the more satisfying.

Overall, however, The Remaining is a stunning show that displays the triumphs, dismays and teenage angst of boarding school life in all its colours and shades. Although I cannot relate to the specificity of hostel life, I know these characters very well. I have been both the teacher and the student, the snot-nosed upstart and the wired elder, tuakana and teina… The challenges of both adolescence and adulthood resonate deeply with me, and judging by the sniffles and tears during the performance, the murmurs and laughs of reminiscing audience members about their own college years and the large crowd that refused to leave BATS post-show for almost a whole hour … This speaks volumes about the work and the truth that this story holds.

Waikamania Seve has the potential to be a playwright whose name and works reverberate in the annals of Indigenous arts greatness. She speaks with unflinching truth, razor-sharp wit and an abundance of humour and class. The characters, rooted in her lived experience from boarding school life and the complexities of stepping into adulthood, spring to life with tenacity and fervour.

The cast are stunning, they hold Waikamania’s words well and perform with everything they got. Waikamania, as well as all the cast and crew (mentioned or otherwise) are excellent talents to look out for in the future.

The Remaining is on until the 28th of February at BATS Theatre. Don’t be late, otherwise Whaea Sue and Whaea Brooke will give you extra duties for the rest of the week.

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