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.