Indi­an Ink’s sec­ond show of the year is quite a step away from its first, and sets us in the back of Mrs Krish­nan’s dairy, ready to cel­e­brate Onam (a Hin­du fes­ti­val of life, death and rebirth).

Te Aua­ha has changed, I note, as I step inside. Far from the end-stage con­fig­u­ra­tion the Whare Tapere the­atre is usu­al­ly in, we’re wel­comed into a mas­sive liv­ing room, com­plete with din­ing table, ful­ly-func­tion­ing kitchen and sev­er­al knick­knacks. Pho­tos are stacked on shelves, and real­ly, the whole thing is very gor­geous. And home­ly.

There’s fairy lights hang­ing from the ceil­ing, gar­lands every­where, and we’re all wrapped in gor­geous lengths of fab­ric, ready to par­ty the night away.

That is, of course, when Mrs Krish­nan comes home.

Mrs Krish­nan’s Par­ty is a sort of spir­i­tu­al sequel to Indi­an Ink’s most well-known play, Krish­nan’s Dairy, which first pre­miered in 1997. How­ev­er, Mr Krish­nan has died, the fam­i­ly’s baby has grown up and grad­u­at­ed uni­ver­si­ty, and Mrs Krish­nan has a new board­er liv­ing in her house, an aim­less young man who tries to coax us all into par­ty­ing.

There’s excite­ment, sad­ness, flir­ta­tion, and actu­al live cook­ing on stage. It’s a feast for the sens­es, as well as the mind, and the whole piece cul­mi­nates in some clas­sic and beau­ti­ful­ly chore­o­graphed Indi­an danc­ing. Mrs Krish­nan (Kay­lani Nagara­jan) is resplen­dent in her hilar­i­ty, but also plays the qui­eter moments with seri­ous heart. James, the lodger (Justin Rogers), con­trols the audi­ence with a prac­ticed hand, and makes sit­u­a­tions that could have been awk­ward com­plete­ly hilar­i­ous.

My the­atre-going com­pan­ion and I were lucky enough to be ‘Par­ty Ani­mals’ — that is, we stood for the whole show  — leav­ing use free to dance about with­out restric­tion for the dura­tion. We are, how­ev­er, exu­ber­ant (and mild­ly tip­sy) youths, so if you don’t feel that option’s for you, there’s plen­ty of oth­er seat­ing con­fig­u­ra­tions avail­able.

This show is fan­tas­tic, as all in this vein tend to be, but it deserves more than that descrip­tion. It’s immer­sive the­atre at its best — not pushy, not judg­men­tal — just open and wel­com­ing and very, very fun. I left the the­atre feel­ing far more con­nect­ed to those around me, and total­ly jazzed from the ener­gy in the room.

Stand too close to the cen­ter of the stage dur­ing Mrs Krish­nan’s Dairy, and you might have to fry some onions, or add spices to a cook­ing pot, but you’ll cer­tain­ly enjoy your­self while doing so.

 

Mrs Krish­nan’s Par­ty is being per­formed at Te Aua­ha in Welling­ton until the 29th of Sep­tem­ber. Tick­ets are avail­able from Indi­an Ink’s web­site.