On a balmy Wellington evening (before the impending southerly change) sundry citizens gather at the Aro Valley Community Centre to discover it has become the Church Hall on the peak of Eglantyne Island, just off the coast from Mākara Beach.

We are gathered because tomorrow is the deadline for the final evacuation, mandated by the local Council. Candidate for Wharangai Onslow-Western Ward, Maggie Whitman, has grabbed the opportunity to promote alternative climate change mitigation strategies by way of posters, flyers and a petition. Welcoming cans of drink adorn trestle tables – and I find myself in the kitchen helping her husband Clive, who runs the local second-hand bookshop, to whip up a few plates of cucumber sandwiches.

There’s a karaoke set-up with a dodgy microphone that’s sometimes used for Maggie and others to make the odd speech. What with everyone milling around rather than sitting down for a formal community meeting, it has to be said that each attendee will be having a different experience of the event. It all depends on where in the hall you happen to be standing or sitting, who you talk to and whose conversations you happen to overhear. So I can only report on what I pick up.

(Spoiler alert: If you’re planning to go tonight or next weekend – woops, now that I’ve revealed this is an immersive play: Before We Slip Beneath the Sea, written and directed by Cassandra Tse, Artistic Director of Red Scare Theatre Company – you may prefer not to read the rest of this until you have experienced it without prior knowledge or preconceptions.)

I gather the first occupant was a hermit called Colville who shared the island with gannets. The island is named after his sister, Eglantyne. A settlement grew with a church on the hill and a small village that includes the bookshop owned by Clive (Ralph Johnson) and Maggie (Helen Jones) – which, I learn later, makes no profit. Now there are 53 permanent residents and 94 holiday homes. They were given three years notice to evacuate and the Council is poised to pay lump-sum compensation to each property owner.

It becomes apparent that the Eggies, as they call themselves, have mixed feelings about the evacuation. Marty (Craig Geenty), the ferry master, wants to party up large and tries, not very successfully, to get the Karaoke going. His teenage son, Kip (Billie Deganutti), whose favourite subject is history, is inspired by the USA’s stories of early pioneer settlements, the sit-in protests of the 60s and 70s, and the more recent occupations. Kip wants to emulate them by leading a ‘Remain’ movement – which leads to a confrontation with Maggie as to who is the anti-evacuation spokesperson.

The feelings and intentions of three single women become apparent to those who converse with them, or overhear their conversations and/or the arguments that break out between them.

I glean that Bree (Charlie Potter) and her sister Carla (Hannah McKenzie Doornebosch) have signed a lease on a flat in Thorndon. When I realise they’re arguing, I catch up in time to realise Bree has told a furious Carla she’s moving to Auckland. When I ask Bree about it, she tells me she’s always felt subservient to Carla and this is her chance to break free, despite having no home or job to go to. Her mixed feelings of excitement and trepidation are palpable. I wonder if Bree and Eden (Megan Connolly; they/them) are in a relationship, or is it developing before our eyes as Eden decides to accompany Bree to Auckland?

In a moment that brings the whole room together, Kip succeeds in leading us in a battle cry: “You can boil it, you can fry it, but Eggies don’t crack!” Kip’s volatile relationship with his father – a perfectly-pitched swirling of adolescent hormones – is offset by a poignant revelation that his mother has died and is buried on this island.

It’s Eden who reveals Kip has posted about the occupation on Telegram and now a bunch of climate-deniers are planning to join the protest. Given the recent parliament grounds occupation (which attracted everyone with a grievance and, without clear leadership, turned ugly and violent), Eden is outraged at this turn of events. When they interrupt Kip’s speech about how much his mother loved this island to confront him, Kip counters with an accusation that Carla is trying to seduce his father – and shockingly, Eden’s response earns her a punch in the nose.

Marty’s insistence that Kip must apologise is countered with the accusation he never loved Kip’s mother. Soon after, I eavesdrop on Marty and Clive’s shared experience of being hit by their fathers. Given Marty’s determination to do better by his son, Kip’s resorting to violence is deeply upsetting.

Meanwhile Clive and Maggie’s relationship is heading for the proverbial rocks, given their conflicting desires for how to spend the next phase of their lives. Maggie’s mother was an activist, her father was an inveterate writer of letters to the paper, and a formative experience where a male teacher made her allow a boy to win a Spelling Bee have conspired to drive her into local politics.

What began as a low-key gathering that seemed to lack focus and leadership has almost imperceptibly become a high-stakes drama – exemplified by banners and slogans going up on the walls to offset the party lights (Production Design – Lucas Neal with Assistant Director Abby Lyons participating in the hall’s transformation).

Inevitably a vote is taken: Remain; Leave now; Stay three more days. Does anyone scrutinise Maggie’s counting of the voting slips? As she does so, a sound montage of radio news clips indicate the occupation has lasted for three weeks… six weeks … So much for our vote to leave.  

This change in theatrical convention allows for an epilogue whereby characters reveal what happens over the years and decades to come – culminating in Kip taking his grandson in a rowboat to visit this very hall, now in ankle-deep water: the only part of Eglantyne Island still visible above the sea.

‘Immersive Theatre’ has come and gone in various form over the years (I called it ‘theatre-in-the-mix’ back in the late ’60s, as opposed to Theatre-in-the Round) but over its 100 minutes, Red Scare’s Before We Slip Beneath the Sea has proven to be an absorbing and salutary experience. It on again tonight and next Saturday and Sunday – and highly recommended.

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