Sam had a hard day at work yesterday. She’s up for a promotion, her boss is on her case – he wants her to ‘man up’ – and now the bastard’s sexting her. She wakes up in the morning to find herself transformed; manned up, you could say. We won’t say exactly what the transformation involves, to avoid a spoiler, but the publicity material has already given most of the game away (“a penis”).

With a premise like that, this story could develop along a number of paths. Uneasy Dreams and Other Things takes them all – as you might expect from the title – with the common link being how the play’s characters react to Sam’s unexpected new endowment. 

There’s the sex farce path, taking in shock/horror reactions – “Omigod, you’ve got a – !” – and lewd afterthoughts of the “Can I see it? What does it feel like?’” kind along the way. This angle is popular with the audience, as is bawdy, earthy Reta (Johanna Cosgrove) for voicing it with such relish.

Another thread is formed by monologues and dialogues about male and female identity at the personal and social level. Sometimes these are set pieces, sometimes they’re people talking and arguing; they can be bitter, satirical, reflective, searching, comic. The leading participant here is Lydia Peckham as Sam, struggling to understand and deal with the consequences of her change.  

There’s also a domestic drama/Shortland Street-like aspect, which follows the impact of Sam’s ‘condition’ on her relationships with husband Greg (Matthew Staijen-Leach), best friend Reta and flatmate/Greg’s brother Fran (Arlo Gibson). The treatment here is mostly naturalistic in its detail and includes the high point of the evening for this reviewer: a poignant sequence in which Sam and Greg try to fantasise their way out of the bizarre ‘reality’ of their situation.  

At this level, the play’s fantastic premise is at the same time its main strength and also a potential stumbling block. There’s the interest and fun of watching ordinary people dealing with an invasion of the non-ordinary into their lives. On the other hand, there is the nagging thought – “Nah, that never happened.” Playwright Lori Leigh revels in the opportunities provided by the premise, and mostly manages to stifle or finesse that pesky doubt. When she’s doing both successfully, the play gets an extra lift from the sympathy we feel for the characters’ shared predicament. 

Leigh has produced a script that is rich in humour, poetry, invention and insight. These virtues are given the best possible showcase by an utterly admirable production.

Peckham in the lead role seems to be slightly nervous at the very beginning but by the end of the play she is transformed: she has loosened up and warmed up, her eyes flash, her voice is full of power and feeling. She has in fact metamorphosed, which makes your reviewer wonder whether this progression is deliberate, a way of mirroring the narrative flow. Deliberate or not, it’s a joy to watch. 

Leigh has written strong parts for the other characters, and the production has found excellent actors for the parts. Staijen-Leach, Cosgrove and Gibson all give confident, energetic, sensitive, sharp-as-a-tack performances in their roles.

The production gives a strong sense of successfully unified design, integrating music, physical layout, visual display and the movement of the actors around stage. All credit and respect to Director Sara Brodie, to be shared as appropriate with an inspired creative team: set and costume Harriet Denby; lighting Jennifer Lal;AV Tane Hipango; photography and graphic design Tabitha Arthur. Also on the team, and meriting a separate and special mention, are Liam Kelly and Peter Scriven, performing the ’80s pop soundtrack live with support from Arlo Gibson.

Leigh’s notes in the program suggest that she wants the play to say something positive about where male and female identity in contemporary society is going – in  her own words, “Things are about to break.” It’s an interesting question whether what we see and hear on stage supports this conclusion. Your reviewer is happy to leave the question open and recommend that people go along to find their own answers. Wherever they end up, they will come away with the satisfaction of having attended a generous and varied dramatic feast. 

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