All sorts of challenges are whizzing around in cyberspace thanks to the COVID 19 Lockdown: Which job haven’t I done? Which celebrity have I not met? Peter Elliott’s quizzes on Facebook …  

Now Palmerston North’s Centrepoint Theatre has upped the ante at a professional level by commissioning 10 playwrights to each write a monologue in 12 hours (9am to 9pm last Saturday) for 10 actors, who then had 12 hours (9am to 9pm last Sunday) to rehearse, learn and self-tape their designated monologue. The uniting theme, revealed at writers’ ‘kick off’, is Escape – and all have their characters in Lockdown.

The scripts and characters are creatively diverse and all 10 are insightful and compelling in their own way. It is an exercise that proves the truism that constraints stimulate creativity. Each writer/actor pairing is superbly conceived – by Centrepoint’s General Manager Kate Louise Elliot and Associate Director Lizzie Tollemache, I’m guessing – and realised by the practitioners including, I assume, post-production by Video Technical Manager Henrique Beirao.  

Who would have thought to cast physical actor and circus-skills showman Dave Ladderman in a piece by Roger Hall? In Not Going Anywhere Without the Dog investment broker Dave (the character) is clearly a resourceful, A-type problem solver. His relationships with girlfriend Jackie, valued client Mrs Porter, legal associate Geoff and, of course, his dog, become more and more apparent as his strategy is revealed. How many of these guys will be emulating him this Easter? 

In Lucy Schmidt’s EScAPe – A Kitchen Sink Monologue a very real Shannon is personified by Carrie Green. Self-described as “scrappy”, she is intriguingly calm as she shares her story, mostly about the romantic co-dependent tendencies that got her into the current relationship she may or may not have escaped from. It packs a wallop in a wonderfully stealthy way.

In Klixbait, Kelvin Klix and his live-steamed ‘Kelvin’s Klowns’ show are created by Penny Ashton and made flesh by Mark Hadlow. Kelvin’s soft, alluring voice belies his toxic politics – unless you happen to be a fan of a certain ilk of broadcasting personality. During this particular broadcast his recent and more distant relationships, not to mention his state of health, catch up with him. Does he deserve what he gets? Watch it and see.

ESCAPEby Pip Hall offers Sophie Hambleton’s Elizabeth a chance to manifest half a dozen versions of herself as she grapples with this digital recording technology. A simultaneously impressive and heart-wrenching comedy-of-anguish, her quest for a better life and fulfilling future is ultimately poignant.

Things get darker in Jamie McCaskill’s piece, The Cupboard, where Tom Knowles personifies how Joe, a dedicated kite-surfer, is dealing with Day 14 of the Lockdown with someone he calls “Mumsie”. Seriously credible, it’s a cautionary tale about the dangers of keeping important public service announcements out of your bubble. Clue: if you don’t know who Ashley Bloomfield is, you too could be dangerous.

A complete change of conceptual pace comes with I Will Always Be Here, written by Neenah Dekkers-Reihana and performed by Darlene Mohekey in the role of A I: an avatar created “to keep you happy; to keep you healthy”. When daily wellbeing routines are interrupted by incoming calls – from Mum then Dad – the options offered are ‘listen’, ‘continue’ or ‘escape’. Thus we come to know the unseen client of A I – who seems to be acquiring a mind of her own. Mohekey is a pre-eminent voice actor and impressionist (those of a certain age may remember her in the politically satirical Facelift back in the naughties). The bonus here is her pitch-perfect channelling of our beloved prime minister.

FLOUR is so-named by playwright Briar Grace-Smith for its demand v supply value in Lockdown. Jennifer Ward-Lealand’s ex-netballer Irene (not that one; she’s very Kiwi) has a story to tell that blends a memorable moment on the court back in her heyday with a very recent incident at Pack ’n’ Save. The prosaic becomes poetic and heroic becomes mundane – or vice versa – in a tale that makes me jump at the end.

Jed Brophy adopts a mellifluous Jimmy Nesbitt accent as Irish expat (ex-Pat?) actor in Masterclass with BJ Boyle by David Geary. Book-ending it with Bob Dylan’s ‘Redemption Song’ – his contribution to a wake he’s unable to attend – BJ distracts himself, and us, with musings on Houdini, anger-management, his last will and testament, a pitch for his Master Class and a visually liberating tour of the house and garden to which he is confined. There’s a poignant insight into the lot of an actor who auditions for major directors but doesn’t hear back, and a nice in-joke when he uses a Nori figurine to demonstrate a Houdini stunt.  

Victor Rodger has created a very true character for Anapela Polata’ivao to play in Rina. Relegating her husband and four adolescent children to elsewhere in the house, Rina has claimed the lounge to herself for a Zoom catch-up with her girlfriends. Her life situation is naturally revealed – even more so when a random Facebook interruption brings up the past in a way that’s disturbing at more than one level.

In KUĪNI by Miria George, Kali Kopae’s Kuni is wearing an apron over her best frock. Cellphone conversations with her somewhat delinquent mother, a shopping bag delivery and a loud interaction through the kitchen window with neighbours reveal a life that may or may not be meeting her creative ‘making, baking, caking’ plans to change her life this year.  

Given the time and space constraints on these monologues – united within the theme of Escape – the 10 very different outcomes are all beautifully structured and presented with a professional expertise at every level. In many different ways, they are a joy to behold.  

Here is the link.

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