It is eight years since we saw a Tim Barcode/Sam Fisher play in Wellington (Location, Location was produced in 2008). He moved to a job in Christchurch and has lived through the earthquakes and their aftermath.

His new play, Wolf, aspires (if I interpret the programme note and media release correctly) to use the uncertainty engendered by the quakes as a metaphor for lack of trust. “This is a rollicking tale set with highly realistic detail of life between the quakes and after the big one, but about trust; if you can’t trust insurance, the council or the ground you live on… can you trust the people around you?”

The setting is a home in Avonside (an Eastern suburb badly affected by the quakes), late in 2010 (after the first big November quake, which did a lot of damage but in which no-one died) and post the 22 February 2011 devastation (which claimed many lives). The bits in brackets are the prior knowledge audiences are expected to bring to the play.

Not that it’s about the earthquakes per se, although the excellent sound-effect-generated aftershocks do serve to emphasise the sense of uncertainty.

Ali (Pip O’Connell), a colour consultant and massage therapist who drinks wine but never shares it, either owns the house or has signed the lease. She is uncertain as to whether her new border/flatmate, Mike (Ryan Mead), is a good choice given he works for the Earthquake Commission (EQC), assisting the claims team. He is uncertain as to the state of the wiring.

Strangely nothing is mentioned, let alone explored as part of the uncertainty theme, concerning the sticker-status of this house, any insurance claim lodged (by Ali or her landlord) and therefore the question of whether their accommodation is secure. Problems with power and water supply, and sewage connection, to get mentioned but play no active part in the drama.  

Already living in the sleep-out is Lee (Hugh Parsons) who turns out to have been the boyfriend of Ali’s late daughter, Melinda. Lee’s current girlfriend, Cushla (Talia Carlisle), is worried about Lee’s nocturnal walkabouts and becomes uncertain about how Lee feels about her.

The neighbour, Cassie (Susannah Donovan), is given to enrolling in such things as New Energy Wellness Workshops, wearing Steam Punk regalia and indulging in irrational outbursts. An unresolved dispute about fixing a damaged fence keeps her friendship with Ali on an uncertain footing.

More than one character asserts they sense “something really evil nearby” but – partly because the characters never stop talking, except when an aftershock strikes – we never feel its presence.

As for werewolves, referenced in the title and promo image … There are hints of strange behaviours at night and Mike does instigate a card game called Werewolf (aka Mafia), which serves to show people’s inability to separate reality from fantasy, but (spoiler alert?) it’s a red herring. And again, nothing is exploited production-wise, to create any spookiness or feelings of fear concerning werewolves.

Apart from the aftershocks, the most dramatic sequence is a fight that breaks out over jealousy – well choreographed by Jett Ranchhod and executed by the actors.  

The story that does unfold turns quite suddenly into an expose concerning a premature death. It’s a surprise as much for the genre-switch as anything else, but because it comes out of the proverbial ‘left field’ it lacks credibility and does not achieve what you might call ‘dramatic resolution’.

Overall, the more dramatic a scene becomes the less convincing the acting is. The men are better at ‘being’ their characters than the women, who fall into ‘demonstrative acting’ traps as their characters’ emotions rise to the surface. Because over-acting has been a characteristic of previous Tim Barcode plays directed by Sam Fisher, I have to assume Fisher has either directed it this way or is happy for it to prevail.

The promise of “highly realistic detail” is nowhere near delivered because credibility – our willingness to suspend disbelief – is a major casualty of the writing, acting and directing. People come to the theatre trusting its practitioners to make it worth their while and it is only in this respect that the “lack of trust” theme is honoured. 

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