A man and a woman hug

Two plays on now in Welling­ton – one a sto­ry pre-con­cep­tion, the oth­er a sto­ry post-death. Both are very good.

Review: Lungs

A cou­ple are think­ing about hav­ing a child. They’re pret­ty sure they’re good peo­ple but a whole new per­son is a pret­ty big respon­si­bil­i­ty. What about cli­mate change? What about their car­bon foot­print? Will they decide to have a child? Yes. No? Maybe.

Aidee Walk­er and Arthur Meek star in this ter­ri­fy­ing play about con­scious­ly hav­ing chil­dren. Although the dis­cus­sions and events hap­pen in time and space, they are delib­er­ate­ly unteth­ered in per­for­mance. The stage is defined by paint and there are no props. (There’s a faint sound­scape (by Emi Pogo­ni) and sub­tle light­ing changes (design­er Glenn Ash­worth) which are not linked to (assumed) scene changes.) We watch one long con­ver­sa­tion as it winds through dif­fer­ent aspects of the pros and cons of hav­ing chil­dren. Walk­er is often won­der­ful­ly fast talk­ing – wav­ing her hands, agi­tat­ed – whirling around Meek as he stands there. His still­ness is var­i­ous­ly amused, stunned, shocked, and ground­ed. It often feels like he’s play­ing the straight man to Walker’s emo­tion­al star. They rarely touch each oth­er – some­times aren’t even look­ing at each oth­er — yet are con­nect­ed in the rela­tion­ship they are por­tray­ing. The moments when they touch, or Walk­er is still and Meek moves, are all the more affect­ing because of the con­trast. Direc­tor Dean Hewi­son keeps the move­ment and cadence going which pro­vides extra inter­est to the words in the script.

This is more than a play about decid­ing to have a child, it’s about the ‘how’ in a rela­tion­ship when think­ing about the future. Great stuff.

  • Lungs at Cir­ca The­atre to 19 Novem­ber 2016

Man wearing winter clothes is sitting on the floor

Review: Fred is cold

Fred is a fridge who is cur­rent­ly installed in a stu­dent flat. He can talk — but only Josh can hear him. Josh doesn’t even live there. He’s only there because his Mum died and his girl­friend Sasha has invit­ed him to stay. Sasha wants Josh to react to his Mum’s death. Some­how.  Any­how.

This time the stage is busy and real­is­tic. (Design by Michael Trigg.) There are book­shelves and a couch, posters on the wall, a full clothes air­ing rack. In the mid­dle is Fred, the fridge. Liam Kel­ly is Fred, attached to the fridge and con­fined by its bound­aries. Kel­ly does great work. He’s present in every scene whether he’s speak­ing or not. He’s sweet and naive which plays against Kee­gan Bragg as Josh. Bragg plays Josh as slow-mov­ing, slight­ly resent­ful. This is a char­ac­ter cop­ing with death by treat­ing every event as if it doesn’t mat­ter. Sylvie McCre­anor as Sasha is there to pro­vide a bit of impe­tus to the action. She’s best when she’s on stage by her­self mak­ing plans, being dynam­ic. This is all lost when she’s on stage with Bragg which shows the noth­ing and empti­ness of emo­tion that grief can bring. Writer Ben Wil­son makes a brief appear­ance as Elliot, Josh’s broth­er to say some point­ed remarks then leave.  This scene was a bit like the musi­cal inter­ludes that at first made no sense and then became some of the most live­ly and beau­ti­ful parts of the show. Direc­tor Neenah Dekkers-Rei­hana has cre­at­ed some won­der­ful set pieces which lifts this show into some­thing spe­cial.