Chris Molloy’s atmospheric new drama, produced by Taki Rua, is ostensibly a period piece via reminiscence, but it contains clever, cutting commentary about present realities in Aotearoa.

When domestic violence and rumours that a “Maori evangelist [is] mixing Maori and Christian spirituality to target vulnerable Maori” are mentioned, the first issues that spring to mind are not those of the inter-war era.

Both script and staging are comfortable with tropes of the Maori family drama genre: a younger person asks an elder about hidden dark pasts, which come tinged with magic realism and veer off into melodrama (but the climax only needs to lose a couple of sobbing lines to become truly affecting). [More] 

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Mā te rongo, ka mōhio; Mā te mōhio, ka mārama; Mā te mārama, ka mātau; Mā te mātau, ka ora. 

Taki Rua seems to have been around forever. It’s not true, of course, it’s less than 40 years old but it has a substantial history that belies its relative youth.* 

Te Kohe Tuhaka’s excellent production of Chris Malloy’s stunning new play Pūtōrino Hill further enriches the legacy of Taki Rua and provides us with a magnificent example of what a top quality theatre experience should be. From the moment we enter the Q Theatre Loft to the instant I nick five grapes from the table of kai in the foyer before descending the stairs to a freezing Queen Street, I am in another world, a world of mystery, enigma, anger and enchantment.

In fact this exceptional experience starts even before that. It starts when we are greeted by stage manager Olivia Kelsey in the foyer before the show and welcomed with charm and warmth. Stage managers seldom get mentioned in reviews but Ms Kelsey is worthy of more than a programme note for her informative and enlightening preshow tête-à-tête, not just with my family and myself, but with all the attendees at Thursday evening’s performance. Ka pai, Olivia, and thanks. 

The Q Loft is a wonderful deep space and admirably suited to this disconcerting and challenging chamber work. On the surface Pūtōrino Hill is a charming, somewhat folksy tale of fairies, culture and the good old days while, in reality, it defies definition. Locked away behind the seemingly straight forward, homespun characters and the whimsy is a far darker tale: a clandestine story that borders on being a horror story. 

Brian King’s excellent set consists of a boardwalk of angled golden planks emerging from a free standing doorway which replicates a church entryway, a family home and a wharenui.

To the left of the boardwalk hang a number of firefly-like single bulbs suspended in a deep and otherwise empty space which serves both as a brooding, misty, mountainous bush area inhabited by the sinister patupairehe (fairies) and the essence of the curse on the town.

To the right of the central structure the depth of The Loft allows for quite a number of multi-shaped, antique wood picture frames suspended in surreal fashion, seemingly in space, that are used evocatively throughout the evening.

The only hint of realism sits to the right of the boardwalk: a simple interior consisting of a comfortable armchair, a jacket draped across the back, and a circular side table underneath which rests a transistor radio. A single wooden chair completes the solitary domestic picture and the whole has a somewhat rustic 1960’s feel.  

From the moment of entry into the performance space we are exposed to the sound of a religious programme coming from the radio. The subject of the radio talk is appropriately enough St Paul’s vision on the road to Damascus and this – along with Matthew Eller’s rich sound scape which peppers the following 75 minutes – contributes substantially to the success of this evocative production and makes for a satisfying and complete sensory experience. Checking out St Paul’s vision in advance of seeing the production will greatly inform the play. 

There is a resonance in the deep bass notes of the wonderful Lemi Ponifasio’s Mau Dance Company. The similarity to Ponifasio’s venue-quaking, butoh sound overlays plus the addition of the sounds of smashing glass feed beautifully into the text particularly in places where it relates to the surreal, episodic and picturesque nature of the narrative. 

As the performance begins and we are introduced to the characters there is a sense of walking through an existential gallery rich in memories, not all of them pleasant.

From the outset Pūtōrino Hill is informed almost as much by its silences as it is by Chris Malloy’s excellent text.  There is an ongoing sense of discomfort and a delicately balanced tension throughout and this is perhaps best illustrated by the seemingly endless stillness of the first meeting of Sarah the researcher (Lana Garland) and Old Whiti (Rob Mokaraka) and the subsequent awkward hongi. 

We discover almost immediately that Old Whiti has no kids, he is “no spring kumera” he tells us, and he needs to “get a few things off [his] chest.” There is conversation, albeit brief, about myths and legends which gives the audience something of a signal of what is to come.

We are lead, in the culture of the story, to mention of the great prophet Rua Kenana, and through this we meet the character of Koro, Whiti’s grandfather, also played by Mokaraka. Koro is a charismatic preacher and a man whose character is the subject of gossip and innuendo in the town. Kenena’s mix of traditional Old Testament Christianity and Maori spirituality is also mooted as a possible cause of the underlying tension within the community. 

We are introduced, through a series of flash backs, to Hana (Kim Garrett) and Koro’s son Young Whiti (Jade Daniels). Young Whiti is ‘the chosen one’, a young man to whom God speaks directly. He is Koro’s selected successor; the person chosen, it seems, to remove the makutu (curse) that infects the town. Molloy’s text is peppered with tantalising threads that lead into this unspoken world; lines like “has he hurt you again?” and “with so much evil in the world I know there must be a God” are like signposts on the journey of the play.

There is even talk that Tu Matuaenga himself has cast the Pūtōrino (flute) into the surrounding hills and that if the curse is to be lifted, it must be done by an innocent child who is spiritually aware, and young Whiti seems the obvious choice. We hear both Koro and young Whiti assume the preacher’s mantel, and the latter does an excellent job of leading us through his vision: a vision that informs us that it is he who will lift the tapu on the town. “God speaks to me,” he tells us, as though in explanation. 

There is also more than a hint that young Whiti does not actually wish to be the next preacher and around this there are moments of delicious tension as his relationship with Hana deepens. 

While Pūtōrino Hill is a big play with powerful consequences, the story is told as a deceptively simple narrative and acted out in story theatre style. We hear that “fairies are everywhere” and, of young Whiti, we discover that “it’s always been you”. Even more enigmatic – and telling – is the phrase “I want to smash your Dad.” 

We find out that Sarah was adopted out at birth which leads us to ask why old Whiti has chosen to share his story with her.  We learn that Koro was removed as preacher and that he faced charges, that were later withdrawn, and the question is asked “Why was he not reinstated?” but at this point in the play we receive no answer. 

There is a beautiful scene that takes place at the end of the jetty between Hana and Young Whiti which ends with Young Whiti on his knees proposing marriage, giving Hana a ring and her accepting. (The honeymoon was short lived, however, because Whiti’s Mum caught up with them before they got to the marae and, presumably, adult sanity prevailed.) The scene is as charming as a puppy and performed to perfection. 

The oppressive presence of Pūtōrino Hill is dark, pervasive and brooding so it comes as little surprise that, while Hana stays in the town, young Whiti moves to the city with his Mum. On his return we find he has been to a flash school, gone to university, graduated with a PhD and moved to Ecuador. The reconciliation of Hana and Young Whiti is beautifully enacted and we are left in no doubt that, while the chosen one has returned, his guilt at having left the town and Hana at risk sits heavily on his spirit. 

To tell you more at this point is to potentially spoil what is a magnificent journey through this extraordinary play. Suffice to say we find that Hana has been beaten at home and at school and that her anger and madness – the community consider her porangi – as a result of her treatment has been the cause of lifelong problems, issues that Young Whiti could have helped avoid. They had each other’s backs, after all. 

In the scene that forms the climax of the play Garrett and Mokaraka are quite magnificent. This is the ultimate scene of confrontation and resolution and, as such, is deeply satisfying. The actors are at the top of their game and Garrett is quite outstanding. 

As Sarah the researcher – and in her own way a ‘chosen one’ – Lana Garland does all that is required of her. In the early scenes her performance is quite mannered but she succeeds in both carrying the plot and bringing a feeling of a larger world to this insular community.

Jade Daniels as the Young Whiti traverses the generations exceptionally well and his evolution from innocent boy to mature man is subtly managed. 

As Hana, Kim Garret is wonderful. Hana’s journey, also from innocent child but, in her case, to seriously damaged adult requires a deep understanding of life at its most challenging. Her passion and incredible anger are immensely believable. 

Rob Mokuraka has always been one of my favourite actors. He creates in Koro a credible charismatic preacher, a man of immense charm and presence who, against our better nature, we are drawn to. On these occasions we see a Mokoraka of great physical dexterity, and he and Daniels each create believable older and younger male selves. 

As Old Whiti, Mokoraka aches with age and wisdom. He is charming, evasive, funny and full of cultural quirks. His is a masterful performance, a superb exercise in control and understatement. He glues the play together and has a clear understanding of every aspect of this complex journey. 

Pūtōrino Hill, while essentially a play about the secrets that exist within a family, is played out on an epic canvas. As an exercise in cause, effect and consequence it should take a well-earned place in the theatre literature of Aotearoa New Zealand. Malloy’s carefully crafted text is multi-layered and delicately leads us into the deepest, darkest reaches of the human spirit. 

As a piece of modern theatre, director Te Kohe Tuhuka and his team have created a profound work of considerable theatrical dexterity in which both Mokoraka and Garrett are able to fully exercise their exceptional skills. 

In short, this is a magnificent work that deserves to be seen, and supported, by discerning audiences everywhere. 

Putōrino Hill is the outcome of the 2013 Taki Rua and Court Theatre Maori Writers Residence and owes much to the contribution of the late Elizabeth O’Connor who sadly passed away last Friday. Elizabeth’s legacy to live theatre in Aotearoa New Zealand, particularly in the areas of theatre literature and scholarship, is substantial and I will value her memory as a friend, a colleague and an all-round top person for as long as I live.  Mā te Atua me te wāhi ngaro tātou e tiaki e manaaki.
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*Taki Rua’s tipuna, The Depot, was spawned in the early 1980s with productions such as Greg McGee’s Out in the Cold (1983), Mervyn Thompson’s The New Zealand Truth Show (1983) and Hone Tuwhare’s In the Wilderness Without a Hat (1989).

Good though those productions were, the Taki Rua followed them with even more refined work including Briar Grace-Smith’s Purapurawhetu (2000), Witi Ihimaera’s Woman Far Walking (2000), Hone Hurihanganui’s ‘Awhina’ (2003), Hone Kouka’s Ngā Tangata Toa (2006), Albert Betz’s Te Karakia (2008) and Awhi Tapu (2009), Mark Twain and Me in Maoriland (2010) written by David Geary and the company, Paolo Rotondo and Rob Mokaraka’s Strange Resting Places (2011), John Broughton’s Michael James Manaia (2012) and, adapted from David Ballantyne’s classic novel, Sydney Bridge Upside Down (2013).

Among the artists who have worked with Taki Rua /The Depot are James Ashcroft, John Gibson, Mervyn Thompson, Ngapaki Emery, Timothy Bartlett, Nathaniel Lees, John Bolton, David O’Donnell, Gary Henderson, Donogh Rees, Rangimoana Taylor, Colin McColl, Dorita Hannah and the wonderful composer/performer Gareth Farr. 

They’ve done radio plays, held Maori and Polynesian playwrights workshops, launched books, toured productions to the four winds, created countless new works and graced more stages than you can shake a taiaha at and, in so doing, have become an institution within the arts in Aotearoa New Zealand.

More than that, Taki Rua is an undoubted cultural icon without which we would be much worse off. Their work resonates with us by bringing cognisance, understanding, knowledge and well-being.

 

Putōrino Hill is the outcome of the 2013 Taki Rua and Court Theatre Maori Writers Residence and owes much to the contribution of the late Elizabeth O’Connor who sadly passed away last Friday. Elizabeth’s legacy to live theatre in Aotearoa New Zealand, particularly in the areas of theatre literature and scholarship, is substantial and I will value her memory as a friend, a colleague and an all-round top person for as long as I live. 

Mā te Atua me te wāhi ngaro tātou e tiaki e manaaki.

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

“More of a murky puddle than a fresh water spring” is how Whiti (Rob Mokaraka) describes trying to look back into his past. Taki Rua’s new work, Pūtōrino Hill by Chris Molloy by is a captivating memory play where the past’s reflection is a murky place indeed, revealing curses, hushed up scandals, patupaiarehe (fairies) demons. When your turangawaewae is cursed, what are the foundations on which you stand on?

A researcher, Sarah (Lana Garland) has come to the rural Reinga to research its history and myths. She knows of the stories of the patupaiarehe and ancient tapu that has cursed the land, and the prophecy of a lost pūtōrino (flute). She’s come to kaumatau Whiti for his oral testimony. [More]

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

Many communities have dark secrets that are kept hidden for many generations.

One such community is the rural township of Reinga where Chris Molloy’s fascinating play Pūtōrino Hill is set.

On his retirement from teaching in Reinga, Old Whiti (Rob Mokaraka) decides to tell his story to a young researcher Sarah ((Lana Garland), a story and secrets he has held to himself all his life.

And so, as he slowly unburdens himself to Sarah, we see, through flash backs, Young Whiti (Jade Daniels) growing up in the town, his relationship with one of the local girls Hana (Kim Garret) and his eventual moving away to be educated.

His koro is the local Pastor who instils in Young Whiti a great sense of spirituality, both Christian and Maori, believing that Young Whiti is the chosen one.

But his koro also has a dark side and after gaining a doctorate in the States and teaching at the University the pull of his home town is too much for Whiti and he returns to teach and remains there for the rest of his days.

Presentedas part of Taki Rua’s 2014 season, Pūtōrino Hill arose out of a Māori Writer’s Residency at the Court Theatre in Christchurch last year and show’s a cleverly and astutely observed piece of writing.

Sparse and lyrical, it skilfully combines reality with the surreal which director Te Kohe Tuhaka has sensitively and creatively brought to life, aided considerably by Brian King’s set design, Matthew Eller’s soundscape and Nick Zwart’s lighting.

The opening of the play is particularly powerful in the way it introduces the characters and creates tension and an air of mystery and intrigue as to who these people are and what is being established.

This continues throughout the play as the unspoken becomes as much a force as the spoken.

And the integrity of the actors is maintained throughout with each bringing an authenticity to their characters that made Whiti’s journey poignantly real and one that could occur in any community.

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Coincidentally the world premiere season of Pūtōrino Hill has opened on the day Rolf Harris is found guilty of sexual assault crimes and exposed as duplicitous. This may make us especially alert to the darker undercurrents in this memory play, where Christian teachings and Māori mythology both obscure the truth and offer refuge to a pre-teen boy and girl.

The repercussions of blind loyalty are up for question here, in Chris Molloy’s provocatively evocative play, developed in rehearsal – according to a programme note – by investigating aspects of the thriller genre, with Te Kohe Tuhaka at the directorial helm.

The set by Brian King, astutely lit by Nick Zwart, Allows the action to flow seamlessly through time and space. A wooden jetty – too pristine from a realistic point of view but all right in memory – is accessed through an archway which blends elements of church and wharenui. A modest living room area is backed by an array of empty picture frames which also form a maze to be negotiated.

Hanging lights in black space will flicker to evoke the patupaiarehe (fairies), linked to a prophecy that says the tiny township of Reinga* will be returned to a land of plenty when the lost pūtōrino (a type of flute played expertly by patupaiarehe) is found.

Matthew Eller’s sound design impresses from the start when, in a visual prologue, portentous music is intersected with a cracking sound as faces appear in the picture frames. 

The set-up is that an elegant young woman researcher called Sarah (Lana Garland) has been asked by Old Whiti* (Rob Mokaraka) to record a story he feels the need to tell in order to redeem himself and, by extension, Reinga. Sarah’s backstory includes her being adopted to a wealthy couple in Dunedin.

While Mokoraka endears himself with quirky manifestations of old age, Garland resorts to rather clunky comedy to express Sarah’s entirely valid awkwardness. Hopefully the efficacy of ‘comedy in truth’ will be discovered as the season progresses.

Old Whiti’s memories come alive on the jetty, which also doubles as the church, presided over by Koro, a charismatic pastor made wickedly engaging by Rob Mokoraka. He transitions seamlessly between his roles although we have to be alert to remember he’s two different people.

Koro is the rather sprightly grandfather of Young Whiti, an eager and impressionable primary school boy, played with great spirit by Jade Daniels. Whiti believes he hears God talking to him and is the chosen one, destined to find the pūtōrino and bring abundance back to Reinga.

Young Whiti’s best childhood friend is Hana, whose abusive home life and being bullied by other kids makes Whiti vow to protect her when he grows up. In fact, he … (spoiler averted). Kim Garrett draws us into Hana’s reality by inhabiting the role with deep-felt authenticity: an immaculate performance.

His being the bright and chosen one means he is sent away to be educated so they lose touch. It is many years later when Whiti returns to Reinga, a well-travelled, successful university academic. He was in Tibet when Koro passed. Recognition takes a while when, by chance, he and Hana meet again. And there are some things to catch up on … Garrett and Daniels play this scene beautifully. 

And so we return, as we have throughout, to Sarah’s interview with Old Whiti which, it must be remembered, was instigated by him. There are gaps to be filled and clues to be put together, all of which adds to the entertainment value. But I have to say the final revelation is very sudden, surprising and somewhat confusing.

Perhaps the writer/director/actor team have become over-familiar with the underlying story and need to recalibrate the production for those who come to it new and have to take it all in at one sitting. I realise that, as with the whodunit as well as the thriller genre, it is a very exacting skill to set up a payoff with sufficient clues to maximise the dramatic impact. Suffice to say (in order to avoid a spoiler) there is a whole generation missing between two characters.   

That said, Pūtōrino Hill offers a compelling 80 minutes as it attempts to unravel complex emotional and psychological issues that can never be simply resolved. The quest for truth, redemption, love and a place to stand in the web of life – in a family, society and history as well as within a geography – is timeless and universal. Even if some of the specific details are somewhat elusive, the states of being within the quest ring very true.   
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*This Reinga seems to be a town large enough to have an outskirts, and for its inhabitants to not all know each other, so is not to be confused with Cape Reinga. That said, Whiti-reinga is mentioned in the creation myths, as the place where Hine-tītama was taken (some time after discovering her husband was also her father); where she became Hine-nui-te-pō, destined to receive the spirits of the dead at the ‘leaping off’ place. 

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