It starts with a pause, a long one, in darkness … Fear that someone has missed their cue morphs into curiosity as anticipation builds among the two lines of audience facing each other in the traverse space (Drama 10 in the Te Whaea basement). Eventually dots of light flit about as people with phone torches arrive in the space, searching for a place to stand; to sit. They do. Do nothing. They wait, in silence. Tiny sounds may or may not be intended, significant. We trust this to be leading somewhere.

The disembodied footsteps traversing above then heard no more are doubtless not part of this show but seem appropriate anyway – if anything can be judged as such when the only clue we have to what this show is about is the title: Follow the Money. (There is no printed or digital programme for the audience – but before they came, some may have found the production info through Theatreview’s ‘Reviews Coming Up’ ticker, or sought info out through the Events tab on the LCYT page.)

Long Cloud Youth Theatre’s latest devised work, directed by Ben Ashby, is an impressionistic ‘make of it what you will’ event. The dynamics of silence and sound, light and darkness, movement and stillness are inherently theatrical and very well executed. 

Wine glasses are a recurring prop. First given iconic status by being underlit by the torches, they mostly signify the moneyed elite. There’s a memorable moment when they are made to loom large on the walls beyond and behind us, by virtue of torch light being projected through them. They may also be the source of the delicate ding which alerts the ensemble to a new phase of performance.

Sonic tones become musical; a sitar and guitar briefly add to the soundscape. Breathing, chatter, laughter, footsteps, tap-tapping and applause are purposefully crafted into the impressive physicality. At one point, for example, each of the 18 individuals move in stop-start waltz steps, each alone but collectively in unison. Each of us may interpret this as the loneliness of routine conformity, as an emblem of subconscious alignment in the workplace, or as something else entirely.

Text is utilised variously and is sometimes made more impressionistic than perhaps intended by the unkind acoustics of the space, where only those close to a speaker, or among those the speaker is facing, can hope to hear every word – unless someone else is simultaneously walking on the wooden floor in hard-soled shoes that obliterate key words and syllables.

Not that there is an evolving narrative or developing characters for us to tune into and identify with. Those who pre-read the production page or found the info on Facebook will be aware that – in response to the question: How does money affect your world? – the actors brought bits of ‘found’ text as offers to the devising process. “All of the text in this show has been gathered from our experience of the world: NFT spam, sugar daddy DM’s, declined eftpos receipts, the back of an old coupon. It’s got interviews with our mates, politicians and Kardashians.”

With no playwright(s) or dramaturg(s) credited in the team, the potential for such raw material to be curated in a way that draws us in through empathy, as it comes together as more than the sum of it parts, is not realised. Instead, as I’ve said, we catch snippets, impressions – which we may recognise and relate to. And the way some segments are dramatised is indeed impressive.

The overall impression is of a generation adrift in the swirls and currents of a sometimes stormy sea, over which they have no control. While lack of money denies them access to certain privileges, like a square meal let alone decent flat to rent, they are bombarded with platitudes about how to get on in the world, promises of greater fulfilment, urgent messages about grabbing goods and opportunities while special opportunities last … A standout sequence presents a marketing campaign as aggressive martial arts confrontation.

Other segments and imagery – like the back lit mannequin torsos, for example – are more obscure and/or randomly assembled, which does feel familiar to those of us who spend lengthy periods on our devices, scrolling through social media posts and tapping on random links without locking onto something of substance for fear there might be something better further on. And the satisfaction level is about the same.

There is no doubt devising and performing Follow the Money has been an enriching learning experience for this Long Cloud Youth Theatre ensemble, and witnessing the commitment, skills and joy they bring to their hour on stage is a pleasure in itself. But just as they may feel on the outside looking in to a more fulfilling life they’re being excluded from, so too may their audience feel there is more going on in the hearts and minds of the performers than is being shared with them.

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