The array of mattresses – stacked, spread out, some with people reclining on them – hints at Te Whare Moe on a marae, except they, the walls and the actors’ loose clothing are all white or cream in Sylvie McCreanor’s design. The dual impression of a welcoming, nurturing, caring space and the confines of a padded cell is ideal for this three-part evocation of the last six months: Pre Lockdown Post, written by the Toi Whakaari Third Year acting students who also perform it, directed by Hone Kouka.

The mattresses are stacked, re-stacked and otherwise arranged in various way as the ten-strong cast play out snap-shot scenarios that recall the unprecedented times we have lived through – and continue to live through – this year. As Kouka notes in the programme, “The story is raw, messy, fresh and is driven by the energy and urgency of youth.”

Pre – written by Chris Moore, Karishma Grebneff and Tane Rolfe – begins on 10 February 2020, when summer-bathed New Zealand is embarking on a fresh new year and becoming vaguely aware of another pandemic making itself felt in other parts of the world.

Meanwhile there are cakes to bake, parties to go to, relationships to enjoy, zombie movies to watch, social media to tune into, weed-dealers to find, casual racism to contend with … A creeping red line divides the voice of privilege from the one she harangues with judgemental statements that begin with, “Your people …”

So far so ‘normal’ with basic freedoms claimed and, in retrospect, taken for granted. Vigorous dancing – choreographed by Braedyn Togi & Laifa Taʼafa; sound design by Karnan Saba – celebrates youthful energies and appetites for fully-expressed lives, even as the implications of this overseas pandemic thing loom larger (remember when talk of the ‘coronavirus’ changed to ‘COVID-19)?

There seems to be no awareness of NZ’s first case (28 February) and scant regard for what’s already happening around the motu (limits on large gatherings, major events cancelled, international travel restrictions and quarantine requirements in place, cruise ships exposed as hot-beds of infection, commercial imperatives v human safety …). As ever, youth has its own bubble.

I’m guessing Lockdown – written by Ben Ashby, Jacinta Compton and Tioreore Ngatai-Melbourne – starts around 23 March (Level Three) two days ahead of Level Four Lockdown. A couple share memories of happy times past as they prepare to go separate ways. “I’m going to marry you one day,” he tells her.

25 March 2020 is heralded with thumping music from an 89.3FM radio host, aloft, who wants people to call in about the upsides of Lockdown isolation. But Pat, aged 83, only has complaints to offer until she is bumped in favour of a pro-Jacinda caller.

A young man has left it too late to book a flight or ferry to ‘home’. Relationships are already suffering under these circumstances. Two flatmates is counsel another to use this opportunity to take a break from his sex addiction. Elsewhere two ‘princesses’ (Kouka’s term), having to share a bed, joke about stinky farts and talk about boyfriends. Earnest young men offer Psalm 121 as a source of help …

It turns out cake-baking Kate from Pre is the granddaughter of cantankerous Pat and has made her a lemon-meringue pie – but early onset dementia is hinted at. The ‘princesses’ hip-hop routine suggests they are essential workers at a supermarket checkout. As a whanau goes eeling in the dark a Koro offers saucy family history and a pertinent whakatauākī.

Paranoia, hate speech and confronting it, fretting about where a relationship might go and concern about Pat take us to an uplift Pat’s Polish folk song with ensemble backing. The significance of a sequence involving a man in an adult nappy escapes me but the lemon-meringue pie comes into its own and I get the sense Lockdown needs to end soon.

A countdown to 11.59pm and the dateline 13 May 2020 – Level Two nationwide – segues the show into its Post phase, written by Jacob McKay, Jehangir Homavazir, Ola Ratka and Shania Buffet.  

The world and its people have changed. The relationship we witnessed earlier seems to be on shaky ground but may be redeemable. The return of sport is celebrated in miniature with gloved hands. A talk-show interview with Planet Earth reminds us Climate Change was our major concern pre-COVID and despite doubts as to whether the environmental gains made during Lockdown will be sustained, Planet Earth is resolutely optimistic.

Attention turns to the George Floyd atrocity and the Black Lives Matter march on 25 May. Mental health is touched on with ironic quotes from ‘There Is No Depression in New Zealand’, calling out a racist dad addresses the question of effective ways to deals with such tings …

A tower is built from folded mattresses. Is this a reference to the popular Depression song, ‘Brother Can You Spare A Dime?’ – the line that gave Dean Parker his title for Once We Built a Tower, perhaps? We are left to contemplate is meaning and fate as our own COVID-19 determined fates, personal and collective, hang in the balance.  

Clearly the raw material played with in Pre Lockdown Post could be developed into a whole that becomes greater than the sum of its parts. As it stands, however, it is an absorbingly subjective evocation of an unexpected time in recent history that will resonate strongly with different people at different levels. 

Pre Lockdown Post may be seen in the theatre of on BATS’ Livestream platform from Friday 21 August, 7.30pm; Koha entry.
The other Toi Whakari 3^rd year show, playing in BATS Theatre’s Dome space, is Lockdown La Ronde.  

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