This is a sto­ry from a sum­mer in Dunedin in 1998 when the pos­si­bil­i­ties were end­less for Anya and her best friends. They have jobs at a cafe. They have their own space to share. The Back­street Boys are at their peak. Enriched with exquis­ite details about Dunedin and inter­cut with asides about the state of bicul­tur­al­ism in the deep south this is a beau­ti­ful show about friend­ship, belong­ing, hap­pi­ness and sor­row.

Anya Tate-Man­ning and co-cre­ator and direc­tor Iso­bel MacK­in­non, with dra­matur­gy by Jo Ran­der­son, have care­ful­ly con­struct­ed a sto­ry that com­bines the dis­tant past and the past. It slips between laugh­ter and tears, between the sub­lime and the mun­dane. It evokes the intense opti­mism of teenagers along with the sense of deep rela­tion­ships that can be forged when there’s been a lot of time spent talk­ing stuff with each oth­er.

At the begin­ning Tate-Man­ning breath­less­ly describes some of the back­ground to the sto­ry. Her speed talk­ing sweeps us up into her tight-knit group of friends. A chalk board (set and AV by Meg Rol­lan­di) pro­vides the sur­face for what becomes a recog­nis­ably Dunedin back­drop. The pac­ing slows once the back­sto­ry has been filled in which allows us to sink into the glo­ri­ous and too real world Tate-Man­ning describes for us.

It’s an emo­tion­al sto­ry, with all of the attend­ing human foibles, told won­der­ful­ly. Bring tis­sues.

  • My Best Dead Friend on at BATS The­atre as part of the NZ Fringe Fes­ti­val to 9 March 2018