Writer Jason Te Kare describes the play as “Māori mythology downloaded for 2016” and it’s clear from the start of the show that we are in the modern world. The set is sparse, consisting of three carvings and a block of wood and a cardboard sign at the back informing us that “the show contains an actor who knows very little about what’s about to happen.”

This sign is symbolic of the world just outside the theatre doors when it is used to sit on by the silent figure that settles down against the back wall while a voiceover tells us about the river (both literal and metaphorical) that is Queen Street. As the figure puts down a squished up soft drink cup to collect change and unfurls a cardboard sign, we are given a live Banksy image; one that can be seen online, in art shops and on postcards, but also one that can be seen any day or evening as we walk down Queen Street. 

The sombre mood of recognition is broken by the entrance of Mohi Critchley in the middle of an intense phone call, and we quickly realise he is trying to arrange a family hui. From the side of the conversation that we can hear, all is not going well and the phone call ends in an expletive-filled rant that then transforms into a haka.

The juxtaposition of the movement and the language is the first of a number of moments that provokes a sense of discomfort, but it is this very sense of discomfort that makes us examine the situations in front of us more closely. Critchley is engaging and funny as he introduces himself as Maui, the demi-god, whose stories and accomplishments are so well known. He reminds us of his greatest achievements and demonstrates, using well-crafted mime, how he often made his brothers do the hard work. There is a sense of joy in Critchley’s performance that quickly engages us and makes us want to hear more. 

Maui shares his frustrations with us, including his sense of inferiority at being designated a demi-god, with all of the sense of minority that goes along with that. The dialogue is sharp and funny and makes us contemplate the casual and insidious way that language can have an impact on the way we see and treat people. He also introduces us to some of his uncles so that we can see how difficult the task of arranging this hui has been.

Here the ‘actor who knows very little about what’s about to happen’ – a very funny and engaging Kura Forrester at this performance – is introduced and we are treated to a quick-fire set of very funny characterisations of the Māori gods ranging from Tāne Mahuta, to the extremely funny and over-emotional Tangaroa. All of these uncles are too busy (or too upset) to attend the hui, but fortunately uncle Rongo, god of peace and cultivated plants, whose interactions with the audience are very funny, is able to oblige.

It becomes clear that Maui is trying to update his story for the modern world, as he realises that he must stay relevant in order to be remembered. Here we begin to catch some echoes of another family of gods that were updated to live in modern times in The Almighty Johnsons, as we are introduced to other members of the extended pantheon of Māori gods.

Aroha Rawson ranges from brash to funny to deeply affecting as she plays a range of the goddesses involved in Maui’s story. She is particularly good as Hine-nui-te-po, explaining her story and reclaiming it for herself. In the one scene that she and Critchley share (all of the other scenes playing out as monologues), she is mischievous and clearly having some fun at Maui’s expense.

We run through a range of modern tropes as we consider Maui making his story relevant through the twitterverse, or as a Banksy image, or as a Marvel Avenger (or in this case an Atua Avenger). As these images and ideas play out, the underlying idea of keeping our stories and identities alive becomes very clear, and again there is a small sense of discomfort as we recognise that perhaps we are too busy searching for the next new thing to appreciate the traditional things that are already powerful and important. 

In another very funny, mainly improvised sequence, we are introduced to Papatūānuku, who is visiting a divorce counsellor to discuss her reconciliation with Ranginui. Although these two gods reconciling would mean the end of the world as we know it, it is impossible not to enjoy the interplay between the two characters discussing how Papatūānuku and Ranginui first met and why Papatūānuku now wants to reconcile. 

The play ends as it begins, not with resolution but with contemplation, as we are pulled back to the world of this wintry night in Auckland. However, we are left with new ideas to contemplate. This is play is funny and thought-provoking with just the right amount of discomfort to provoke discussion; all qualities that are very welcome in new work and which are admirably brought to life by this small, but committed cast and crew.

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