Anticipation for the opening night of Pork and Poll Taxes has been building within the Pan-Asian community for weeks – encouraged by a mesmerising trailer for the production which showcases the production’s fusion of movement and story. By opening night, the atmosphere in the foyer of the Herald Theatre is palpable. 

It has been a long road of development since first time writer/director Talia Pua’s idea for the play was seeded when learning of the weighty Poll Tax imposed on Chinese migrants who came to Aotearoa in the late 1800s. Supported with funding from Creative New Zealand and the Chinese Poll Tax Heritage Trust, the script was developed as part of Playmarket’s Asian Ink playwriting scheme and Red Leap Theatre – with interviews conducted with descendants of those affected by the Poll Tax. [More]  

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As a NZ Chinese ‘poll tax descendent’ I am nervous, pulling into my park on the way to see Pork and Poll Taxes 人頭猪税. Not only am I overwrought to see a fully NZ Asian artists’ production of such a striking part of our history, I am quietly wary about how my ancestors’ stories on stage will be portrayed.

However, I am not disappointed. If anything, absolutely thrilled.

Playwright and director Talia Pua pulls together time and space in telling the well-researched story of Chinese market gardeners and their families in the poll tax era of Aotearoa. Audiences are transported back to 1891, when Chinese men left their villages and families in search for gold and of a better life in San Gam San 新⾦山 (New Gold Mountain, a.k.a. New Zealand). A backdrop of increasing civil unrest and poverty in China, and mounting racism in NZ epitomized by the ever-rising poll taxes, make for heartache and gut-wrenching memoirs. (I note that the unfairly instituted 100-pound poll tax in the late 1800s is equivalent to over $20,000 today… I know!)

A cast of 5 Kiwi-Asians form a family split between countries in the hope of finding fortune and a better life. These actors tell the narrative based on real life events split by fast-paced movement sequences (inspired by elements of martial arts) and underpinned by a proud percussion to evoke the never-ending strife on an already stressful time.

Standout moments include the father Jiu Choy (Benjamin Teh) trying to teach his fiery son (Kelvin Ta) to keep a low profile in a new land amongst racism; daughter Yuk Chun (Celine Dam) fearing the return of her betrothed and being given away to another family; and mother Shui-Ching (Anna Lee) as she searches for the last of the family’s precious money, lost to village fires caused by bandits, while also looking after her mother-in-law (Jo Lo).

What I enjoy also is the simplicity of stagecraft yet the complexity in choreography. There is an upstage and downstage, dropped by a few bricks’ lengths, which physically divides characters when they were communicating by mail. This division melts seamlessly back into flashbacks to when the family was together previously or as their spirits intertwine in the present.

I particularly like the choreography (by Yin-Chi Lee) between Jiu Choy and Shui Ching when they are masterfully moving together with palms almost but not actually physically touching. This signifies the partners’ dancing through life together, though isolated in different countries.

The designers are Michael McCabe, Paul Bennett, Nikita 雅涵 Tu-Bryant and Wilson Ong. Red and gold hues glowing in multiple sleek material cylinders add depth to the stage and keep true to the Chinese traditional colours. An interesting shadow-puppetry pig introduces the ‘pork’ of the play’s title but does not eventuate into much more than that.

Costuming is well thought out and humble – down to the women’s partially wrapped feet and men’s queue hairstyle. Minimal props keep a clean look about the stage as any flashy items would distract immediately. No crew are required to bring and remove items onto the stage as this is built into the performers’ routines which always adds an element of mastery.

What is particularly stunning is the use of Cantonese throughout the script. The writing clearly does not skimp on pushing the boundaries of culture and language, adding a sense of sincerity. I am impressed that many important ideas presented in the mother tongue – for instance where Chinese expressions of endearment or words of advice are said from one family member to another – and are not necessarily translated into English. This production transcends the era of afterthought tokenistic Cantonese phrases being thrown into an English script. What cannot be understood by non-Cantonese speaking audiences is made up through brilliant facials and those fun Cantonese intonations and musical tonalities.

Can I talk about the choreography again please? Kudos goes to the performers who gracefully weave past one another during the quick-stepped movement sequences, yet still throwing their bodies fully into a sea of expression and rhythmic beats. Audiences throw their heads from side to side trying to keep up with the multiple stimuli, in awe of the action.

Any first night is scattered with the occasional loss in line delivery and the flash of ill-timed audio, but all in all this can be forgiven by a strongly interwoven narrative of multiple complex interactions.

To the credit of the team, the script aligns well with the heart of the source material; it does not cut corners in wanting to accurately portray the lives of minority diaspora. Pua spoke to a number of stakeholders in the local Chinese community before solidifying storylines which speaks to the earnestness of the material. This always adds additional Brownie points in my book.

I would recommend Pork and Poll Taxes to audiences of all ages – but please be ready to really commit as there is a paucity of light-hearted moments (in fact I think nearly all characters have a crying moment at some point!).

This story lends itself well to the modern day. With the recent surge in anti-Asian hate following the COVID19 pandemic, with international borders closing, and with a new liberal generation rising through to leadership, this production could not have come at a better time. This production re-energises what I have grown up with: the history of the sacrifices made by my forebearers and the harsh physical and social conditions that were presented to them. It also brings important discussions back to the surface for today’s multicultural society and cements another piece of history in the arts which won’t be lost to the bookshelves.

In summary, this performance transports me back in time and re-ignites my sense of belonging and identity. It allows for the blending of cultural elements, modern movement and multi-lingual narrative telling to adorn both NZ Chinese and non-NZ Chinese audiences in many ways. Told through the unique lens of a solely NZ Asian cast and crew, this experience hits the mark in recreating an essential slice of the NZ identity.

I am forever grateful to my ancestors for the sacrifices they made, and their stories couldn’t be told better than through Pork and Poll Taxes.

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