From their titles [The Legend of Hector and Jane Austen is Dead] would appear to be very different. In fact they have a lot in common. Both are wry comedies and though they have contemporary settings (a bijoux bar for Austen and a student flat for Hector) they deal with the influence of the past on the present.

They also reveal the obsessions that can bedevil the human mind and the quest for a more stimulating world in which to live. In Hector’s case it’s the romance of medieval knights searching for The Book of Knowledge and the Holy Grail versus, by implication, the dullness of student life and loans.

The three authors and performers of The Legend of Hector have an ability to quietly lead us into a quirky fantasy that they have created with medieval costumes and props as well as electric lamps, a vast duvet, and a microphone.

At times the performers seem to be playing the comedy just for themselves. There is something of Monty Python and the Holy Grail about it (they don’t use coconuts) but when they are on song their humour is dry, full of long funny pauses as they gently send up quests that lead to the Holy Grail being found but no one cares.

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

A knight in full chain-mail and armour slumps on the couch watching an obscure French film on his Macbook. 

The Legend of Hector explores the “fantasy and suspicion of all things epic” – which translates as the comic possibilities of contemporary knights with contemporary problems.  Devised by Bright Orange Walls, the latest company to emerge from the VUW theatre program, we follow three young knights (Jonathan Price, Barney Olson, and Tom Clarke) at emerging stages of their careers, in situations that explore the clash between the epic and the everyday.  

Director Samuel Phillips’ staging is inventive, using satisfying low-fi tricks with lamps and microphones to create atmosphere and sense of place.  A great lighting design (Uther Dean further displays his love for practical lamps) and knight costumes bring the fantasy element, while the simple set anchors us in the slightly dingy contemporary world. 

There is a strong Monty Python echo; much of the comedy comes from playing the ‘real’ in surreal situations, and from performances anchored in truth. There are further similarities with the company: a bunch of young guys who met at university and have a shared sense of humour and talent for satire. The Legend of Hector is less of a sketch show than Python. While it is episodic, the work fits mostly into a single continuous narrative and it is earnest in a way Python could never be.

The comedy is accessible, the performances are all strong, and it is peppered with hilarious moments. There are some beautiful set pieces – a party scene built from a series of vignettes; ‘Big Phil’; the magician rant on the couch; The Knight’s Tutorial – which will strike a painful chord with anyone who has studied an arts subject at university.

Ultimately, on opening night, the story doesn’t come together and the ending doesn’t work.  The titular Hector, in particular, seems short-changed of a couple of plot points and some resolution. This work is still in a process of creation, though, and in the bar after the show we are invited to give feedback, either in writing or in person. Doubtless the ending will have grown in different directions by the season’s end. 

While there are scenes to tighten up and the story needs some work, there is lots of great stuff in here, and it is an enjoyable time. I think the show will grow over the season, and I look forward to seeing what this company will do next. Recommended.

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer