Whāia te iti kahurangi ki te tūohu koe me he maunga teitei.* 

Last Friday, I had the privilege of attending the opening of a new theatre with a new piece of work that was really quite extraordinary. Each of these events is worthy of celebration, because behind-the-scenes, an extraordinary amount of activity has taken place over a protracted period of time, and all in the shadow of COVID-19.

A tall mountain was confronted and, as Sir Ed would have said, they “knocked the bastard off!”

To digress, back in the day, my old Mum had a saying that she fired at me every time I proposed something that she thought was a bad idea. She’d say, “You’ll be as popular as rats under the house if you do that.” When I heard those words, I knew what she meant, and more often than not I changed my course of action. At the time I noted with great interest that my Dad did the same.

Right now, in Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland, it’s local government budget time and we have a mayor who has, in his snippy-snip sights, every aspect of Auckland life that brings any joy to people living here. On his list for immediate surgical removal, he has the broader arts whānau – visual, performing, entertainment, events and venues – and his beady eyes would seem to be on Te Pou; well, it was certainly top of the list I saw. If this matters to you, there’s a Budget Submission document, and I would recommend that anyone living in Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland who values the arts – or anything really – make a submission and make it count. 

It was never my intention to start this review with a political rant, but I believe it’s necessary, and will possibly become more so, because I’d like to come back in a years’ time (or earlier) and write another one, such is the quality of the work, and the new venue is quite superb. Many hands are responsible for this, and it would be wrong to attempt to name them all even if I could (I can’t). There are those who brought the old venue to life who are still around, and there is a raft of new people as well. The level of support was well evidenced on the opening night of Hemo is Home by a full house and a foyer full of happy, excited people.

When it comes to creating a new performance space there is no journey quite like it. The trek from “I wish we had …” through “that’s a bloody good idea” to “it’s a wrap” on opening night is enormous and the Te Pou whānau have traversed this journey and created a space that is of immense value to the city of Auckland, both culturally and spiritually. 

I was concerned, as a mobility challenged older human, that parking might be a bother, but I needn’t have worried. By the time I entered the foyer and joined the queue to get my ticket I was swept up in the excitement and the short wait at the box office was easily navigated because so many people wanted to say “kia ora” and “hello”, and “where the hell have you been since 2019?”

It’s a damn good question and one I ask myself. Every day!

Entering the theatre itself, I am confronted, literally, by the deepest stage I’ve seen for a long time. It’s hard to imagine any piece of theatre or dance, any performance piece either traditional or contemporary that needs to be housed in a room, not being possible in this space. It is beautifully lit, and with a tad more experience and many full houses, the acoustics will become equally well managed.

A word here about the audience for opening night: I, especially, like the fact that, within reach of my seat, are two new Māmās with very young snuggling infants and everyone is chuffed. I am oohing and aahing with unbridled joy. What’s better than that?

Logistically, my understanding is that the theatre has space for 250 bums on seats in a conventional black box format and that makes it a commercially viable operation. Just. Seating is comfortable, and the steps from stage level to the top of the auditorium are manageable for virtually anybody. If this sounds as though I’m saying “this is for you”, then you’d be dead right

Speaking of dead, time to get back to Hemo is Home.

In real time, I have to stop grooving on the babies because the lights go down and I became aware that, on the dimly lit stage, there are characters already busy. I’ve read the publicity, so I know what the construct of the play is going to be. It’s a super idea, an original idea, but not completely so.

The notion of a young person being raised in an urupā (cemetery) by the spirits present in that place is not new but traces its devious way back to antiquity. Nothing wrong with that, of course, especially when the narrative is as beautifully played out as it is in this case. In recent times there is Neil Gaiman’s hugely popular 2008 young person’s novel, The Graveyard Book, which traces the story of a boy called Nobody ‘Bod’ Owens who is adopted and reared by the supernatural graveyard occupants after his family is brutally murdered. While the concept is similar, both the cultural milieu and the cast of characters is quite different.

To quote the programme notes: “Hemo is Home was written by Tainui Tukiwaho with his tamariki Te Rongopai, Jade, Paku, Le-Toya and Mia during lockdown 2022. Director Tainui Tukiwaho used playwrighting as an English school work for his blended whānau of kids. They all made up their characters and developed the storyline for Hemo with surprisingly little upset.” They describe it as a black comedy, which is it is. It’s funny in a black sort of way, and black in a funny way so, yes, that’s accurate. Well, accurate enough. It’s more, of course.

What a fantastic idea. The play has gone on to be runner up for the NZ Playmarket Adam Award and a recipient of Brown Ink 2022.

The programme goes on to welcome us “to Hemo’s weird and wonderful world with its quirky ghost whānau who raise them in the urupā, a mauri-munching Patupaiarehe (a fair skinned mythological being with blonde or red hair), the Spice Girls, and a mysterious ghost pig. In just a few days, Hemo will turn 10, which means he will finally be able to leave the safety of his urupā home and see the world – the only thing stopping that from happening is the Patupaiarehe Whitney who needs to develop Hemo’s mauri (spirit) before he achieves this milestone. With the help of his Nanny Gugu and the rest of his ghost whānau, Hemo only has to survive a few more days – but will the love of his family be enough to keep young Hemo safe.”

So that’s the premise and the whakapapa – so now read on.

The narrative is complex as are all the characters’ backstories, but they never seem so, and the story unfolds with real clarity. The relationships are finely honed, often seriously funny, as we get to meet Hemo and his whānau, some of whom are ghosts and some of whom are flesh and blood. Among the ghost whānau are Koro Blossom (Maaka Pohatu), a wonderfully empathic and genial grandparent figure who has been reunited, in death, with Nanny Gugu (Bronwyn Turei) who has taken Hemo under her wing and clearly looked after him for quite a long time. Turei’s fine performance drives much of the action and she keeps our focus on the danger Hemo is in should Whitney even catch a sniff of him.

Time, of course, is not only of the essence, but also a major theme of the play with one character seeming much older in dead years than all of the others. Played by Ngahira Rauhina, Te Kāka pays more than lip service to a very long, misty, and more than a little terrifying, past.

Key figures in this world are the enigmatic Shino (Te Rauhiringa Brown) whose iridescent and statuesque presence we see throughout but only learn her backstory later in the piece. Smart scripting, team, to keep us guessing because guessing we are. She has a living, flower-carrying visitor about whom we know very little so, being human, we make it all up – until all becomes clear and then it all seems obvious when it hasn’t been obvious before that at all. 

There’s an intentionally irritating, drunken spirit Tipsy (Kayne Peters). As we learn his narrative and how it is woven into the plot and how it drives the dénouement, we become much more sympathetic to his situation. There’s more than a little butch humour in Hunter (Ariana Williams) and in Moerangi (Acacia O’Connor) as they make up the spirit team and add texture throughout.

The urupā has a custodian, a caretaker, by the name of William (Stephen Butterworth). William is a living breathing, gay human being whose narrative touches our hearts. William is the bridge between the living and the spirit worlds and Butterworth is superb in a nuanced and courageous way and his performance has haunted me for days. We wonder why he is so committed to the urupā and to this bunch of immortal misfits and eventually we find out. No spoilers from me, see the production, it’s worth every cent of the ticket price. 

Te Kāka drifts in and out of the action, an incredibly powerful presence, supporting Hemo and his desire to make it to his 10th birthday. There is a birthday cake, but it is not his, not yet, but he does devour his fair share of it. 

The story presents a number of potential roadblocks to Hemo achieving his 10th birthday that will see him finally leave his graveyard home and make his own way in the world. Some of the barriers he meets are funny, some are not. The principal barrier is Whitney from the patupairehe world and she wants Hemo’s mauri come hell or high water. Written to be scary, the actor (Awhina Rose Ashby) doubles down and creates a performance of true terror. The characters all agree, and so do I sitting in row two. This is full on horror show, but we know there will be a happy ending, don’t we, because Hemo is so well supported by Koro Blossom, Nanny Gugu, Te Kāka and the rest.

There are positive back stories aplenty, and each of them is woven beautifully into the world of the graveyard and Hemo’s place in it. He has protectors galore, and the setting for the piece allows for many potential resolutions. But there is suddenly a sense of separation between the people of the urupā, both living and dead, and the threats from a dangerous outside world. Feels like I should have listened more to my old Mum’s voice warning me not to count my chickens before they’ve hatched as it echoes in the urupā of my mind.

There are moments of pure magic, but you’ll have to trust me on that because I’m not about to deliver any spoilers. The piece is subtle, and the interlocking actions created by the characters, the production, and the script all meld into a deceptively attractive story. But don’t be fooled. This is a horror story even if it is beautifully played out. I should really have listened to my Mum …

Hemo is Home is beautifully produced, splendidly directed, and acted without fault. The star of the show is without doubt young Hemo himself (Te Rongopai Curreen-Tukiwaho). He drives the action and creates a world where every single member of his whānau is likeable, quirky and critical to his journey. Hemo manages to be both superstar and humble storyteller. It’s smart work, and Te Rongopai and his fellow writers deserve the greatest of credit, not only for putting this piece of work together, but for surviving Covid as well. We can all be thankful for that.

If there’s a word that sums up this show it’s balance. As always, balance is critical, and we seldom see a better example of the art than in Hemo is Home. The cast play what is front of them and only that. We benefit from such very good work. And remember, “A gift from the dead is a gift for life.”

Personally, I can’t wait to go back to Te Pou theatre and to see what’s coming up next. I do encourage you to make a submission to Auckland Council about arts funding. We need more of this, not less. Say it like it is, and don’t hold back. Brown doesn’t, and neither should you.

*Seek the treasure you value most dearly: if you bow your head, let it be to a lofty mountain.

The Te Pou website is excellent and includes:

CONTENT AND TRIGGER WARNINGS:

This show discusses whakamomori (suicide) in a frank and forthright manner.
This show is set in a fictional urupā.
This show contains coarse language and swear words.
You may find this show triggers sadness about the loss of people in your own life.
This show contains low level physical violence.

Sometimes the impact of a show’s content can be experienced days after the show, please take care with yourself and others.

We support manuhiri and kaimahi with karakia at the start and end of this show.

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer