After a two-year hiatus, He Māori? makes its anticipated debut at Palmerston North’s Centrepoint Theatre. Written and performed by Isaac Martyn (Ngāti Tūwharetoa, Te Arawa, Ngāti Pākehā), He Māori? offers a personal and often agonising insight into the complex journey as Isaac reclaims his Māori identity after a Pākehā upbringing.

Opening last night to an intimate crowd, the stage greets us with a minimalistic setup: a bench seat crafted from cubes, a bottle of water, and an acoustic guitar on a stand. The bare stage seems to prepare us for something deeply personal, yet there is an elevated buzz in the air. Little do we know the performance will strip our souls bare.

From the moment Isaac enters the room, there is a familiar tension. At first, he seems unassuming, almost as if he doesn’t belong there. Through his vulnerable and engaging performance, you soon realise it’s an intentional feeling he wants to evoke – the unspoken sense of displacement. 

Isaac’s sincere, heartfelt and beautifully executed portrayal of his heartbreaking identity crisis gives you a front-row seat into an internal battle, riddled with self-loathing, imposter syndrome, relentless mistakes and then gut-affirming growth.

Captivating the audience with each raw and authentic moment, Isaac masterfully weaves storytelling with confronting reflections on identity, making his journey feel intensely intimate.

The minimalist set focuses our attention entirely on Isaac’s physically expressive performance, where his acoustic guitar becomes an extension of his voice, its melodies underscoring the emotional highs and lows of his journey to discovering self.

Isaac’s performance of a self-composed haka, a powerful expression of his internal battle, marks the point where his search for self becomes our own.

My tears begin to roll down my cheeks as I silently sob for the white Māori girl in me, anxiously watching Isaac tell my story through his. I am him, and he is me. He Māori!

Isaac sees me, he sees my soul. I do belong. Not only as wahine Māori but in this moment I find a sub-tribe, a community of ‘third culture kids’ – I am not alone.

This is not just a play for those who are finding their identity as Māori; it is a powerful testament to the enduring quest for something we are all, in one way or another, searching for: belonging.

He Māori? will be performed at 6:30pm on Thursday, June 15 and Friday, June 16 at Centrepoint Theatre, 280 Church Street, Palmerston North. Don’t miss the chance to see this powerful show and engage in a Q&A session with Isaac following each performance.

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It’s already half packed when we enter the Dome, my guest and I. All bearing witness to a lit up waka and a guitar that looks like it could be a paddle, or rather, hoe, and that’s it. There is a good buzz surrounding us. I can tell that a lot of people are excited to see ‘He Māori?’ tonight; myself included.

“What does it mean to reclaim Māoritanga from a Pākehā upbringing?”The hook line for this show in the Tahi Festival brochure.I very much have the same personal question. This might be the show that I most need to see in my life to date. I’ll be certain to find out by the end.

Though there is a wee delay in opening the show, we do get there, eased in by the performer/playwright (Isaac Martyn) joining the audience, mildly addressing his anxieties around being present at the Marae. I project imposter syndrome on the situation, and allow myself to take a step back, breathe and just let the performer do his thing.

Dressed in a blue singlet and shorts, Isaac sets himself up, centre stage, awkwardly and endearingly. Very quickly he treats us to that guitar, and he’s a natural. Not to dismiss the time and practice it takes to learn an instrument, I simply mean that he makes it look easy. “I don’t know. I don’t know” on repeat’ is what we hear for about a minute, before some more lyrics come in. I’m feeling some anxiety around the situation, in a way that I feel like I’m meant to. The discomfort we are met with on introduction is extended further in this song, so I sit with the belief that this is probably going to be a common trend throughout.

I admit that it’s hard to see anything through a different lens by now, given how much the topic resonates with me. But I try to remain objective about it. Following the song, Isaac delivers his pepeha, quite well I think despite the wavering confidence behind it. We learn that Isaac struggles with owning his identity, with words like “1/16^th Māori” and “White Māori” present in his telling. A caricature performance displaying the identity clash elaborates on this battle, caricature being a recurring feature in this play, and something that Isaac excels at.

“You didn’t used to say Kia Ora.” Oh boy, I’ve heard words to that effect in my own life, sometimes in my own head too. I just know where we’re heading with this show, we’re entering self-judgement and questioning. I enjoy the white criticisms through song, that detail what are perceived to be acceptable accents to sing in, punctuated by the accents as they are described. While comedy and caricature allow these self-deprecating moments to translate with humour, I am ever thankful for Isaac including wee gags like drinking out of the Powerade bottle and quietly uttering “mauri ora” to defuse any tension that we may sit with.

Isaac’s own disappointment at not having learned much about Māori history growing up in the North Shore is clear as he ruminates on it. It clearly affected his own attitude in trying to learn more in his teenage years. I feel like I’m watching a brother from another mother tell our shared life from a different point of view. The imposter syndrome, the white guilt, the not knowing where to start.

Isaac is energetic and displays great performance technique throughout. His application of unique conventions to aid storytelling are magnificent. Sloppily changing gears while hopping between English and Māori in a car really sends it home; it can be a real mess, and a real conscious effort, but it keeps the engine from stalling and the car moving forward.

The skit with the app to gauge your competency in te reo has to be my biggest laugh. I find myself jealous hearing about Neapolitan skin: white, red when burnt, but “milk chocolate” afterwards. Some have it all. I get freckles. Lucky man.

If there’s anything I’d like more of in this show, it would be more vulnerability from the performer; just a little. The content is brave on its own, it is a must have, a must see, and there is already a great range of tactics to convey the feelings of not belonging. Worrying about being a clout chaser, referring to yourself as plastic, 1/16^th – all of that through quirky character, clever concepts and waiata are honestly enough. I just know deep down that there’s one more tool that could help this land with anybody, and that is existing with us, authentically, among the running and hiding. But I get it, Isaac, I get it. Everything we see and hear is an extension of how the performer feels. That is the real journey, and that in and of itself, is true to the heart, and executed brilliantly.

By the end, the applause honours a great display of acting chops and musical comedy to reveal what’s on the performer’s mind. I leave satisfied with the show, and with questions for myself and my own journey.

The show has now concluded its season at BATS, though it would be a shame to think of this as the end. I would encourage as many return seasons of He Māori? as possible. It’s a vital show to see for anybody doubting their identity.

Isaac, I address this to you personally: You are killing it mate, you are doing more than enough, and you are an inspiration to me to forgive myself for what I haven’t learned and just try. Keep on going.

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He Māori? is a thoughtful and funny play written, directed and acted by Isaac Martyn (Ngāti Tūwhargetoa, Te Arawa). It is about his experience learning te reo Māori and tikanga and the conflict he experiences as he learns the language of his ancestors.

Isaac Martyn’s delivery and script feels honest, full of charisma and aroha. His waiata and songs help drive and punctuate the story. I really enjoy how his guitar is not only an instrument of appreciation, but also of introspection and at times fierce frustration.

The lighting and staging (Alex Martyn) of a lone waka wrapped in plastic simply and effectively underlines the core contradiction explored so well by the piece.

This is not a TED Talk with all the answers. Martyn asks complex questions of himself and ourselves. A hopeful uncertainty remains at the heart of the show.

‘He Māori?’ is one person’s passionate and insightful cross-cultural view. For me, this is local theatre doing what it does best – challenging us while telling the stories of this land.

He Māori Productions are Isaac Martyn, James Heath (Producer), Alex Martyn (Set designer/builder), Liv Payne (Marketing and communications), Arvin Bahadornejad (Stage manager/wardrobe). Hāmi Hawkins is the technical operator.

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