I remember the fateful day in January 2009, out in West Auckland when, following an afternoon of the inescapably relentless noise of police sirens and chopper blades it was announced that the police had accidentally shot an innocent motorist during a high-speed pursuit on the motorway.   

The ramifications are still being reported in the news more than four years on.  What’s more, playwright Noa Campbell was moved to write and direct a play that examines the both the political and the personal consequences of such a devastating event.  Only the broadest details of the true-life debacle remain in Campbell’s treatment – the names and the backgrounds of the victim and his family are fictional.

The story opens on the Paraone whanau arranging a 50^th birthday dinner for Tipu – respectively their well-loved ex-husband, current partner, father and uncle – at his favourite inner-city restaurant.  There’s a bit of a tense awkwardness in the performance during these introductory scenes; dialogue obviously being played for naturalism feels somewhat forced; possibly a typical case of an under-rehearsed NZ theatre premiere?

However, once the impending celebration transforms to tragedy in a catastrophic instant, the cast reaches their emotional stride with powerful, sometimes chilling cathartic outbursts.

The clean grey stucco wall, venetian blinds and matching stools that comprise Riria Lee’s essentially urbane set supports my impression of the Paraones as financially stable, upwardly mobile, even dare I say it, middle class.  Not to say they’ve merely assimilated to the colonial status quo – quite the reverse: they are passionate about their community and their culture, at times to militant degrees, and creativity runs strong in their blood.  

Also notable, while in no way proselytised by the script as such, is the predominance of female characters.  Central character Tipu is male of course, but we never meet him, and besides sensitive but flawed musician Tawhia (Te Kohe Tukaha) and lawyer cousin Smurf’s journalist confidant Pete (Chris Molloy), the remaining male personae are largely faceless, aggressive authority figures. 

On the whole the cast perform competently, though at times with inconsistent energy and clarity.  Lana Garland plays understanding ex-wife and devoted mother Anna, running her urban café bar with the help of her younger daughter and keen photographer Frida (Milly Grant).  Older sister Ngahuia (Olivia Violet Robinson) has artistic aspirations while Smurf (Ana Corbett) represents the whanau during the protracted, stressful legal inquiry. 

The greatest familial tension exists between Anna and Tipu’s partner Puti (Stephanie Tauevihi), who gets on well with the daughters but would clearly rather not have to deal with the boyfriend’s ex.  While Tauevihi’s performance is one of the strongest overall, her propensity for alcoholic indulgence is somewhat overused as a comedic device. 

Costume designer Shona Tawhiao’s gives the characters an unusual, almost futuristic look; almost entirely in black, except for Anna’s floral dress and Puti’s deep red frock.  Simon Coleman’s lighting design enhances scenes of ambience and pandemonium as required.  Likewise multimedia designer Rongotai Lomas’ appealing visual projections, while the eclectic sonic stylings of Francis Kora’s soundscape are a production highlight. 

There’s a strong core concept being workshopped in this premiere production, running slightly longer than the advertised hour.  Particularly notable for the reasons I suggested regarding positive representations of Maori and women, with further rigorous development and direction, this promising first draft has great potential to become a standout work.

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