The Wireless

Brown face and murder mysteries

09:18 am on 15 April 2015

Let’s just get to it. The Mystery of Edwin Drood is the novel Charles Dickens was in the middle of writing when he died. Although we never find out what happens to Drood, most signs point to murder.

Clearly the next logical step would be to adapt it into a musical murder mystery, parodying Victorian Musical hall and including token audience participation. Which is exactly what Rupert Holmes did in 1985. And then, inexplicably, Lyndee-Jane Rutherford chooses to direct it at Circa Theatre, 30 years later.

Why should we care about this show? But more importantly, why are two of the central characters portrayed by actors in brown face? With horrific pseudo-Indian accents? In Aotearoa? In 2015?

This read to me as a token effort to excuse blatant racism. How would they feel about real live brown people coming to see their show?

You could argue that Rutherford was making a commentary about racism and cultural appropriation. Except that she just wasn’t. There was nothing self aware about this production, except for an off-hand comment on the difficulty to “geographically locate” the accents. This read to me as a token effort to excuse blatant racism. How would they feel about real live brown people coming to see their show?

All I could think about was that Extras episode where Ricky Gervais plays the Genie in Aladdin. While the only plausible reason for this would be the intention to try to subvert or comment on Victorian Music hall (and the social politics surrounding it), all we are left with is an earnest attempt at the form.

Next door in Circa 2, it’s the polar opposite. Melbourne-based Geoff Pinfield returns to his hometown with Theatre Beating’s latest offering: Two Mortals, a head phone verbatim piece devised by the performers (Rachel Dyson-McGregor and Mike McEvoy). The show is an elegantly crafted symposium on death presented through snippets of interviews with people in the business: palliative care workers, funeral parlour managers and priests/ministers to name a few.

The show has a clear, undulating rhythm, guided by the sound design (Beatrice Lewis) which is integrated flawlessly with the lighting (Bronwyn Pringle) and takes us on a journey mirroring the process of dying – from considering our mortality to ceasing to exist.

Two Mortals Photo: Circa Theatre

Everyone is going to have a different experience, but don’t be put off by the heavy subject matter. The show is simultaneously brutal in its pragmatic approach to death and gentle in its delivery. We are held by the performers who have expertly crafted moments of light comedy and purposeful audience interaction, as well as moments of absolute beauty. It’s both cathartic and hypnotic. Funny and hopelessly sad. A carefully considered meditation on the only thing that’s certain in any of our lives.

The only problem with Two Mortals is that not enough people are going to see it. There are two reasons for this: first, at $25 the lowest ticket price is still pretty steep. Not to devalue the work (it is unarguably worth it), but there is generally a direct correlation between young people who participate in the arts and abject poverty. If Circa honestly wants to get young blood into their theatres, they need to reassess their ticket prices.

Second, more thought needs to go into how we market work. If I’m being honest, I was somewhat apprehensive about the show based on the poster design. After seeing the show, I can tell you it is not a faithful representation of the work. To me, it reads as an attempt to soothe the sensibilities of the older Circa going crowd, telling them: “it’s okay, this show isn’t too weird or anything, it’s safe for you to come”. In trying to hedge their bets and play it safe, Circa ends up alienating the very demographic they are seeking to entice into their smaller studio.

In direct competition at BATS, Together All Alone (a collection of 6 short plays by Angie Farrow, directed by Jaime Dorner and Rachel Lenart), exemplifies a more holistic approach, with the stark contrast between light and dark and sharp angles of the poster all featuring in the production design (Natala Gwiazdzinski), which in turn speaks directly to the content of the plays.

Farrow’s stories are jarring and disorientating, but the themes and recurring motifs are recognisable and relatable. While Farrow herself is of an older generation, her writing allows the younger directors and actors a way in through facilitating experimentation with technology and abstraction.

Most of the plays follow women grappling with failed relationships in some way or another, but there is enough difference in presentation to keep the audience engaged. Highlights for me included innovative use of light and blinds to represent the inside of a womb and Hannah Pratt’s deft manoeuvring through the plays, allowing us to find some truth in these bizarre stories.

You can hear more from Sherille Kahui in On The Dial - Episode 19