Agent Redding, played by Nicole Jorgensen, and Devlin Bishop as Mr White, force feed a one world view of ‘only the strongest survive’. The story tidily pairs duos off, on different tangents, each intent on preserving personal agendas in a malaise of heightened angst, then reconnecting abrasively under the cloud of circumstance. 

Fresh-faced innocent Lauren, played by Holly Bradfield, is a bullet with butterfly wings; a barrage of curses are visited with gusto on any individual that does not meet her perception of being ‘cut from the right cloth’. 

Elegantly slumming sirens Jacqui Nauman as Wilhemina and Sarah Graham as Jill saunter their way through the story, injecting black comic highlights like espresso shots. Awkward innocence is represented in bespectacled Elliot Yule as Matty, his tryst with a twist is txt speak perfect thanks to the energetic ramblings of his ‘date’ for the evening Brittney, a good time girl with a good heart played by Ema Barton, sumptuously swishy in red.

The costuming is a spray of colour and angular cuts, testament to the stylistic excellence of Designer Lindah Lepou. Creativity is in good stead in The Outfit camp, the ensemble maintains a solid reputation in my psyche as a refined troupe who communicate story cleverly in a rhythmic pulse that drugs you into its fold.

Go check out Little White Men; you’ll come out wanting a shower.

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A balaclava-wearing guerrilla guard with a metal detector stops you as you enter the door to Cross Street Studios and checks you for concealed weapons before warning that there will be strong themes and language.

A very basic set in a very basic, intimate space gives an authentic feel of rebel headquarters – it wouldn’t have worked as well in a ‘proper’ theatre. Seating is arranged around three sides of the stage area. The rudimentary lighting set-up means there are no house lights to dim, so you don’t get to sit anonymously in the dark and pretend to be just an audience ‘bystander’ – you’re part of it whether you like it or not (but don’t worry, there’s no audience participation beyond the guy at the door).

The set consists of a couple of large munitions containers and some cardboard boxes; four or five television screens broadcast disastrous world news – of the natural and manmade varieties. In between the news footage United Federation infomercial-style bulletins assure you that everything’s going to be okay, it’s going to get better, the UF will take care of you, oh and by the way, if you happen to know of any rebellious activity, you should report it, because rebelling is dangerous… accompanied by flashing subliminal messages such as ‘BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS’.

A small but fast-paced story with a big message, Little White Men is a pessimistic, perhaps alarmist, preview of what the not-so-distant future could hold for New Zealand and the world. However, though it is violent and scary, it’s not just pointlessly depressing. As one of the characters points out, it’s too late ‘now’: President Obama has been assassinated; the U.F. (‘the uffies’) have replaced national governments and their police forces, and have eliminated any dissenters; the thought police are always listening … But something could have been done back when it all started (i.e. 2009-ish).

Overall the script is naturalistic, immediate and well delivered by the actors, although there are a few brief parts in which it is a bit stiff, for example when Raglan (Francis Mountjoy) is responding to having his face rubbed in his own tragedy by his persecutor.

The Fringe Festival Programme says the show is 90 minutes long – it’s actually 60. It also claims it’s ‘darkly funny’. There’s a smidgeon of humour, for example the teenaged religious zealot (Holly Bradfield) who screams out bible quotes and generic condemnations of ‘faggots, whores and Muslims’ with a glassy look of conviction, then flirts coyly with the cute young rebel. But most of the play, while extreme, doesn’t come across as quite so ridiculous, so it hard to find it funny.

Some of the uncomfortable subject matter narrowly avoids being gratuitous, however there are places in the world where this kind of blanket big brother oppression is already going on, so is it so unthinkable that one day it could be New Zealand? You be the judge – paranoid conspiracy theory or worst-case warning?

As writer/director/actor Joel Herbert points out in the programme, there’s often a fine line between information and entertainment.

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