Just over four years ago, Carrie Green’s original solo play Man Parts premiered at BATS Theatre, and Radio NZ recorded it live for broadcast and posterity. Now in the midst of the Covid 19 lockdown that performance returns, via RNZ, to Theatreview’s unprecedented COVID 19 Lockdown Festival, along with a host of other exemplary archival works. 

Protagonist Erica Kingi-Little relates her story in the style of so many practitioners’ personal stories told in the solo-theatrical format over the years. While this offering is clearly parodic of this convention, it feels probable that Green has included more than a little of her own real-life experience to enhance the sense of authenticity. Regardless of where Carrie’s personal truth begins and ends, Erica’s tale and the world it takes place in have a credible enough foundation to sell the overall concept.

The first couple of sentences efficiently paint an evocative picture of farming town Dannevirke in a time of recession. From there Erica embarks on her coming-of-age narrative with relative measures of passion and nervousness, as indeed are her prevalent traits in the context of the story itself. She opts for a variation on the ‘jukebox musical’ format, where the songs are sourced from a selection of other classic musicals, rather than from the hit parade or a particular artist’s oeuvre. 

The playlist includes numbers from the likes of Oklahoma, Oliver and The Rocky Horror Show among others, with numerous other classic musicals namechecked along the way. Disbelief must be suspended regarding the stated impediment of Erica’s allegedly too masculine range, or at least attributed to the limited wisdom of amateur practitioners, as Green’s vocal chops are more than up to the task at hand. 

There is plenty of worthy comedy mileage to be made from the small-town girl setting her sights on the Palmerston North theatre scene like one might dream of London or New York, and her idolisation of a certain national celebrity (and esteemed old-boy from the Dannevirke Players with whom she performs) as though he were as famous and influential as Olivier or De Niro.

Not having seen it during the inaugural seven-show run I can only guess at what we might be missing visually. There are few instances where a sound or audience reaction is heard that obviously requires visibility to get it, making it a natural candidate for a radio play. In any case it can be quite enjoyable imagining what you can’t see. Meanwhile a handful of stills accompanying the RNZ podcast provide a helpful picture of Erica and some of “all the friends I made along the way”, all portrayed by her of course because “this is a solo show”.

No doubt these visual cues will have helped live audiences differentiate the various (I count ten) personae portrayed by Erica as portrayed by Carrie. However, in radio form Green’s accomplished skill in vocal character distinction is brought to the fore, and I’m never once confused as to which role she is personifying at any given time.

The story’s conclusion occurs somewhat abruptly, given the life-changing implications of the climactic shock twist that occurs five minutes from the end. The apparent lack of communication/gossip among the small-town residents in order to protect said bombshell until the crucial reveal is the most unrealistic aspect of the whole story, besides arguably the crooning ghost of the aforementioned real-life local actor (who isn’t dead).

In fact the twist ultimately raises more questions than it answers, not least about the choices Erica’s mother made many years back, as well as deeper philosophical and socio-political implications.

But this piece of work avoids any foray into such enquiries. Green has opted for more of a showcase style confection to demonstrate her range of estimable talents, particularly singing and especially comedy, with just enough pathos to engage our sympathy with Erica’s journey. Within that framework Man Parts is certainly a solidly entertaining and impressive showcase of ‘fledgling’ talent. 

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The very aptly named Man Parts is Carrie Green’s first solo show and hopefully, if the audience reaction on opening night is anything to go by, not her last. 

She plays young Erica Kingi-Little, a farmer’s daughter who discovers the delights, friendships and the multitude of characters you find in amateur musical theatre. We see her blossom into becoming a young woman heading the bright city lights to work with one of her dream heroes, quite literally.

During the show Green shows off a simply electric voice as she powers through (almost) every significant tenor song from a wide range of musicals including Oklahoma, Hairspray and Little Shop of Horrors just to name a few. Her rendition of these numbers is worth the price of admission alone.

With collaborators Andrew Paterson and Simon Leary, Green has created a wonderful character in Erica. Though she’s naïve, you cannot help but root for her as she follows her dream. Seemingly simple, she has a heart of gold and is so honest in her joy that all those hackneyed clichés of amateur musical theatre that are easy to laugh at become treasures. Mum, Linda the M.D., Martin, Robert the Director and Mr Mac are all given particular voices and physicality’s that allow us to easily follow her.

She starts her show with an announcement (“Sorry there’s no programme, I ran out of time”) and then we’re off on a narrative that follows the musical tradition. A scene about her Mum forbidding her to audition for the musical society is followed by a song that sums up her predicament; a scene where she meets the company (illicitly) and is welcomed is followed by ‘Consider Yourself’ from Oliver…

Somehow Green, alone, manages to fill the stage with an entire ensemble so that you can see the mass number in your mind. Each song is chosen for its catchiness and is brilliantly narratively appropriate. There are a number of great moments in the show, and some great one-liners reflecting that it is a show which are too good to spoil here.

The ending is one of those wonderfully touching moments you’ll want to experience (keep the title in mind). It’s hard yakka to fill an almost bare stage by yourself but Green does, ably abetted by Phil Loizu making the most of the fringe rig that he can. Erica pulls off every musical theatre choreography movement and will have you in stitches.

Book now, don’t miss it, a brilliantly funny night out.

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