At BATS, 1 Kent Terrace, Pōneke, under the Dome, Motu Rā Productions presents Whōre, part of the Te Herenga Waka Six Degrees Festival. It brings an incredibly clever analysis and exposition of where we are right now and where we could be heading, as a nation – Aotearoa New Zealand – and in the broader global community.

The solo but multi-character play is performed with skill and authenticity by Zody Takurua as a ‘work in development’. It’s part of Zody’s explorations of theatre and prose-based practice, presented in a simple set with minimal props.  Stage Manager Paige Johns operates the ingenious lighting and audio with excellent timing and to great effect throughout.

This opening night is well patronised with many of our illustrious LGBQT community here. I feel rather at home among the premium dressed, cordial and effervescent members of our community.

As the lights dim, an Artificial Intelligence Party announcement is delivered. The AAIP is at the forefront of this New Age and as the story evolves, we get to experience first-hand the implications of the new order. The automated voice informs us that within 72 hours, the value of physical coins and paper money will be worthless and must be exchanged into digital currency. Any person found to be unemployed will be “re-evaluated” for citizenship. The year is around 2040 CE.

Kahu, our hostage, is seated centre stage, head hooded, wearing a singlet, shorts, a pair of socks and an illustrious wedding ring which could have been bought for 20k. As a sentimental token of love and enduring friendship it is now worthless too. This is a huge hint of where the story is taking us: “an [AI] Utopia”; the extreme end of hyper-capitalism where sanctioned employment, digital currency, conformity, no acknowledge of te reo Māori, mana whenua, tangata whenua, whānau or emotional connections are allowed, and where AI programmed rules apply without exception or nuance.

Over what may be the 72 hours leading up to their incarceration, we find that Kahu flats with their sister and owes her rent, works in a world where coins and paper currency are the only currency. Kahu utilises their many and varied people skills and listening skills to help others. Well, if you’re a “Whōre” – a sex worker/ provider of intimate support/ a listening ear – who is Māori, young (22yrs), “diverse and inclusive” where “450 bucks is fucken heaps” except you’re paid by cheque, you’re going to have trouble finding a place, a job and financial credibility in this new order.

For the AAIP it’s about reducing human error, automating repetitive tasks, all to bring about precise results. In order to meet those results, humans – especially, it would seem, tangata whenua – are going to be the casualties. And there will be nothing inventive, new or cordial about it. In fact world history has already attested to the flaws of mass killing, and some see euthanasia as a path towards this. 

The Ancestral Homeland Bill, as presented in this work, sounds like it wouldn’t be that outrageous considering the Treaty Principles Bill recently introduced in 2024. NZ’s State-led euthanasia bill was passed on 7^th November 2021. In 2040, sending people back to the Omni potent and sometimes mythical homeland, Hawaiki, in order to rid society of the supposedly inefficient and superfluous members of the community (Māori) by euthanasia, doesn’t seem so crazy. So you’d do anything, be anything, say anything to avoid it.

AI deems Humans only have value if they contribute to the country’s world view, if they work and pay taxes and contribute supposedly real meaning. But like all electrical and mechanical devices which we use every day and will use exponentially in every facet of our life, the functionality of these mechanisms can only depend on who enters the data, who decides what the data is and who gets to decide that Hawaiki is your location.

The play is an amazing feat of writing, acting and showmanship that truthfully considers where we are and what is already happening in Aotearoa and around the world. It is thought-provoking work, and there are moments of real power throughout. With more time in development these will thread together more seamlessly for the audience and strengthen further what is already strong.

“And why did all the ‘Māori’s fly away?” That’s the first line of ‘Red Black and Naked’, a prose poem that packs a punch in the play and is in the printed programme,

We will need to stay tuned to see where Zody Takurua takes this powerful work next. If this impactful piece of theatre was the result of ‘mucking around over several weeks’, as Zody say post-show, I really look forward to seeing more of what they have to offer.

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