Ingeniously named – to echo the need for intimate contact to be consented, often more than once as things proceed, and to celebrate the joy of mutual pleasure – YES YES YES is playing high school matinees at Circa Two this week, prior to public presentations this Friday and Saturday (6.30pm). Although pitched at people negotiating intimacy as adolescents, its messages remain relevant to anyone and everyone who is sexually active.

Over the past five years Eleanor Bishop and Karin McCracken have collaborated on a trio of sex-related works, the other two being Jane Doe, about rape culture at universities, and Body Double, about female sexuality. Together they offer a comprehensive contribution to our understanding of the human sex drive and coach us to check our sense of entitlement and take responsibility for how we interact with others.  

The format for Yes Yes Yes is similar to Jane Doe in that it interleaves story-telling, video-recorded interviews, simple role-playing by audience members reading from scripts at microphones, and the use of an online site (instructions on screen as we take our seats) to anonymously post responses.

As the solo presenter/performer, Karin McCracken is wonderfully relaxed and engaging, putting her audience at ease. She makes it clear theme of consent will be explored through two stories: her own actual experience with Tom and Ari’s fictionalised experience with Jamie. Gender-neutral names and pronouns for the latter scenario allows the full range of relationships to apply. The students who have generously shared their personal thoughts, feelings and experiences on camera also cover the gender and sexual preference spectrum.

Karin breaks the ice by recalling a memorable scene in Hunt for the Wilderpeople between 13 year-olds Ricky Baker and Kahu, where the dynamics of testing each other out as potential friends is perfectly captured. This speaks to the inner fears and vulnerabilities, and the staunch behaviours we develop as coping mechanisms, that arguably stay with us forever. Not that Karin says all that – she just puts it out there for everyone to relate to in their own way.

The Karin and Tom story is episodically structured to keep us on our toes, investing in both sides with parallel strands of trepidation and empathy as we realise how easily things could change – and note how a positive outcome is achieved. There is no ‘preaching’, just sharing experiences with very real dramatic impact that works a treat.

The Ari and Jamie story begins after the event, when Ari’s friends Kiri and Morgan become aware that Ari is having to cope with what happened when Jamie, to whom Ari was/is attracted, would not take “No” for an answer. The complexities revealed in this scenario, and the way Ari’s friends handle it, offers very important learning opportunities, again without preaching.  

The interview clips are wonderfully honest and revealing without being intrusive, simultaneously showing how different people and relationships can be, while proving how much we all have in common. Innate wisdom and insights dance with a sense of innocent wonder. Among other things, the difference between screen romance and reality, not to mention online porn and true intimacy, is well articulated.

As for the comments posted to the online app, they range from juvenile to mature, irrelevantly trivial to actively engaged, and make one wonder how much of the silly stuff is covering deeper feelings. (Rest assured, contact details for the Safe To Talk Helpline are projected in screen for anyone who needs them.)

For all the negative dimensions of sexual behaviour that are brought to light, the idea that sexual intimacy can be a wonderful thing is never lost. It is heartening to consider how profound the contribution could be to the futures of all who see Yes Yes Yes, no matter where they are on the sexual experience spectrum. This is theatre that truly makes a positive difference.

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

The issues of consent, sexual positivity and healthy relationships seem weighty ones for the attention of our award-winning duo – director Eleanor Bishop and performer Karin McCracken. I settle into my seat at Bats Random with more than my usual curiosity about how such themes will be dealt with in a show aimed at 14-22 year olds.

A screen onstage asks us to participate by digital means and to enter some answers to “How are you feeling?” This feature signals the interactive nature of what follows. Interactive suggests improvisation and the freshness that accompanies it, and further piques audience interest.

Karin is our presenter. She has an easy rapport with her audience. Her confidence is winning, as are her opening observations on the nature of relationships among young people. “How do you know the other person wants to hook up?” she asks. ‘Hooking up’ covers a wide range of possibilities, and these are about to get explored. 

Through the story of two developing relationships – Jamie and Ari and Karin and Tom – we are presented with the feelings, actions, nuances and misinterpretations that mark especially the beginning of what happens between two people. Director and presenter have been skilful enough to avoid gender specificity. The issue at hand is not male/female, but behaviour.

The importance of this show’s themes is emphasised by scripted conversations involving audience volunteers. And there are onscreen in-depth interviews with NZ teenagers with some priceless comments from some.

There are some telling lines in Karin’s narrative: “Ari didn’t want sex, but Jamie did it anyway”; “I’m scared of Tom’s kiss – that means we have to have sex.” 

The issue of consent is fairly and sometimes humorously handled. Karin’s reactions to Tom’s supposed advances are endearing and elicit the laughter of recognition; Jamie has the opportunity to put forward their thinking, attitude and reaction in a potentially compromising sexual situation.

Questions of consent are indeed tricky. I find myself wishing that Karin could package her self-honesty, humour and sense of balance and share it around. But then – in Yes Yes Yes that’s exactly what she’s doing.

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

Yes Yes Yes is a theatre show for senior secondary school students about sex, consent and healthy relationships. It was created by director Eleanor Bishop and performer Karin McCracken while working with Epsom Girls’ Grammar, Papakura High School, and Newlands College.

Eleanor and Karin started making Yes Yes Yes in June 2018 after several tours of their previous work Jane Doe, which examined rape culture and consent on university campuses. To make something new for a younger audience the process involved working with several high school groups and talking to them about their experiences with dating, sex and consent. Karin said in an interview on RNZ that the students they worked with had a much better understanding of consent than she did at high school, because they are talking about it so much more now.

I vividly remember taking ‘Health’ class in 2003. We learnt about the reproductive systems, that contraception was good, and that drugs and alcohol were bad. Cool. Super helpful things that I definitely already knew. We didn’t learn a single thing about consent or how to navigate boundaries in a relationship, which are not fun things to learn by trial and error in your teens and your 20s. Yes Yes Yes fills this gap and I hope it tours to every high school in Aotearoa.  

If you have seen Jane Doe, you’ll be familiar with the set up when you walk into the theatre. Three microphones and a screen, suggesting the audience get out their phones and respond to the prompt of “How are you feeling? What are you thinking about?” Going beyond this technology, Yes Yes Yes uses a similar structure and theatrical devices as Jane Doe: two stories, one performed by Karin and one that’s read from scripts by Karin and volunteers from the audience, alongside interludes of interview footage with the high school students who worked with the creators. These theatrical techniques feel more crafted this time around and every moment of the show is driving towards the same message, that we need to get better at talking about sex and consent.

While there are some parts of Yes Yes Yes that are upsetting and difficult, the tone of this show never falls into despair. There is a lightness and a sense of hope. Much of this comes from Karin’s generosity as a performer. From the moment she steps on stage she is holding the audience with so much care, while still being extremely funny and engaging.

There is also a lot of joy to be found in the interview footage. Watching these high school students who are so self-aware, capable and open with their feelings is a real privilege and sometimes very entertaining. Eleanor’s direction is finely tuned and she creates an encompassing rhythm with enough pauses built in that this show never feels heavy or paralysing. The subtle lighting by Rachel Marlow also works beautifully within this rhythm, leading the audience in and out of each section.

In the programme, Eleanor and Karin note that they wanted to make a show about consent that they wish they could have seen at age 16. I also wish that I had seen this show when I was age 16. But I guess it doesn’t actually matter how old you are, even more than a decade on from my high school years, Yes Yes Yes is a profoundly moving and galvanising experience.

Should you and all the young people you know see this show? Yes. Yes Yes. Yes Yes Yes. YES YES YES. 

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

As I’m lucky enough to see a truck load of theatre as part of my day job, I have a tendency not to do much research on shows in advance, but rather just turn up and surrender to whatever magnificent experience unfolds.   So, all I know as I arrive at the Pacific Crystal Palace at Hamilton Gardens Arts Festival is that Yes, Yes, Yes is a show about sexual consent. 

Despite my ‘no expectations’ rule, I must have subliminally imagined an ensemble piece delivered by a young cast, presenting gritty and confronting material.  What I get is something completely different and, I’m certain, something that is infinitely more effective.

Karin McCracken is wandering around casually on the stage, positioning items and generally setting up for the show. Dressed in jeans, sneakers and singlet, I assume she is the stage manager. She knows my companion and comes over for a bit of chat. She is warm, witty, friendly and genuine.

What I don’t realise is the show has effectively started.  Karin is ever so subtlety and intentionally building familiarity and trust with her audience. We are about to get into some heavy material and to have the performance start with a ‘ta-da!’ moment, just wouldn’t work.  These theatre makers recognise the importance of bringing the audience gradually into such an intimate conversation. 

And a conversation it is, figuratively and literally.  At its core, this is a one woman show delivered by Karin, but it is extended brilliantly with perfectly balanced interactive and digital elements.  We hear two stories; of two women, on the same night, at the same party. One has a positive (but not entirely straight forward) sexual experience. The other experiences sexual abuse resulting from an absence of consent.  

Woven throughout these story lines are confessional style videos from young people, offering us gut wrenching honesty about their own sexuality and experiences.  These insights come from a full range of identity perspectives: straight, gay, bi, non-binary.  I am struck by how far these conversations have progressed within the millennial generation when one young woman states “virginity is so hetero-normative”.

At the start of the show, the audience is invited to login to an interactive live feedback website. At certain intervals Karin invites us to use this to share how we are feeling, and the feedback scrolls in real time onto the screens on stage. This is the point at which it hits me, that this isn’t my show. This show belongs to every 15 to 18 year old on the planet. 

This is further emphasised when the audience are once again invited to participate as performers on the stage, by reading verbatim scripts of iMessenger conversation that have occurred after the sexual assault.  As a parent of teenagers I recognise these scripts to be completely on point. Almost painfully so.

Karin McCracken is superb on stage.  She has a radiating aura of warmth and maturity all while remaining youthful and relevant to a young audience.  She offers us a sure and steady hand, leading us through difficult territory.

Yes, Yes, Yes is a show about consent, and to do so effectively, it needs to contextualise it with wider themes.  Much territory is covered including perceptions of and the impact of porn, expectations of young men to appear fearless, the challenges of honest communication and the sweetness of platonic relationships.

Zanetti Productions have done a phenomenal job of building a show with such intelligence, sensitivity, honesty, empathy and insight – all without a trace of preach.  The dominant feedback from my companions is that this is a show that needs to be presented in every high school in the country.  Consequently, I am somewhat disappointed that our small audience is mostly over 40 and thus the real impact of the show is not realised this night. iMessanger transcripts of 16 years-old conversations, read by middle aged theatre goers is just a tad awkward. 

Yet this show is brilliant, and pitch perfect. While no doubt it is of huge benefit to parents and teachers, I’d be surprised if your average teen is going to fully embrace the interactive aspects of the show with us oldies around. An Under 18’s only rating and appropriately accessible price point would support this show much better to do the job it sets out to do. 

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer