The Art Murmurs Team
Fringe finished six weeks ago (who’s really counting anyway?), and we hope you have all managed to recover from this hectic Wellington show time. Below are some of our teams enthusiastic shout outs on shows we saw during this time.
Evangelina Telfar
Sandwich Artist (Development Season) is a new foodie musical by Phoebe Caldeiro and (Art Murmurs’ very own) Jack McGee that speaks to what it means to be an artist of any sort. I am a little biased as to my love of this show due to knowing Jack well and understanding the process that has been undertaken to make this show possible. However, I think this fun heartwarming show is a testament to the importance of the friends, family and community that surround an artist as they try to pursue art as a career, it really does take a huge amount of support, love and care for anyone to succeed in the arts industry and it is always special to see that acknowledged.
Other shoutouts: NO NO NO (BATS), Blackpill (BATS), Trojan Horse (Circa) & After the Storm (Te Auaha)
Other shoutouts: NO NO NO (BATS), Blackpill (BATS), Trojan Horse (Circa) & After the Storm (Te Auaha)
Jack McGee
Quick summary, NO NO NO is a dark sci-fi comedy about a break up, where the affected parties may or may not have been replaced by AI replicas of themselves. It is written and performed by Ella Yiannoutsos, alongside Isaac Martyn, Indigo Paul, and Bruno Willis. I am evangelical about NO NO NO. I was deeply moved by it, and I think it deserves way more attention and praise than it’s received. Welcome to my Soap-Box.
My love for it begins with Yiannoutsos’ script, which was workshopped as part of the Centrepoint Playwrights Intensive in 2023 with support from Nathan Joe. I delight in how confident it is. Its high concept dystopian landscape is filled with haunting imagery that the play never slows its wheels to explain to us. The world exists to reflect its protagonists, a quick way into the dread and melancholy they’re consumed by. There’s perhaps no better example of the impressive self-assuredness of NO NO NO, than its ending - A heartbreaking full-court-swing of a twist - which has the self assurance to treat its audience with respect and trust that they’ll put the pieces together.
Getting vaguely into spoiler territory, I find the central metaphor of NO NO NO deeply perceptive. There’s always that moment when you see an ex-partner, either with someone else, or just getting groceries, and you feel that sharp pang of loss that they're not quite the person you loved anymore. They’ve changed in some way, because that’s moving on. If they were still that person, and so were you, you’d probably still be together. NO NO NO simply asks, okay, what if they were actually a different person? A robot, perhaps. One discovery I took from NO NO NO, is that this heart-dropping-moment of lack of recognition is scary. It is fucking frightening. I knew it was sad, sure, but until I saw it told with a literal-body-snatcher-spin I never would’ve been able to articulate to myself the uneasy horror of it. This is genre, or just art, really, at its best. Finding an in-direct way into a hyper-specific-emotional-state that makes the audience feel it in their bones.
Of course, theatre is an art form of interrogation. It’s one thing to capture a moment, an idea, and another to examine it, to put other ideas in conversation with it, play with parallels, contrast. In it’s single act, NO NO NO, manages to not only expand, but dance on it’s central metaphor. It’s hard to go much further without getting fully into spoiler territory, but all I’ll say is that we as an audience have to get over our fear of robots, in an act of resonant symmetry with how we’d have to get over our fear of ex-partners moving on in real life, and even our fears of moving on ourselves.
The play is laugh out loud funny. This is inherent to the text, Yiannoutsos injects countless witty jokes and observations into her characters' conversations. Our protagonists are very emotionally vulnerable, which gives way to constant moments that are funny through being a little too real. A notable example of this is a monologue delivered in a borderline-manic-frenzy by Yiannoutsos about trying to be open to new love, which had me trying to laugh my way out of the pit forming in my stomach. However, Yiannoutsos’ co-star Isaac Martyn (who full declaration, I’m friends with) is far and away the funniest thing on stage. He has a stupendous physicality, to the point where it feels like he’s throwing his whole body behind her punchline, delivering every emotional beat with full-chested sincerity.
I’ll also note that there’s an entirely different, more AI focused read of this play that is equally valid, and even scarier. Whether you’re looking for a dissection of heartbreak, or an exploration of identity in the age of AI - you’ll find them both here. NO NO NO is a deeply layered, complex, eminently watchable work, and it fully floored me. I’m praying it comes back, here in Te Whanganui-a-Tara, and everywhere else.
Other Shoutouts: Ginge and Minge: Lay-Over (Te Auaha), TWILIGHT: The Loca Edition (BATS), Scuxx Deluxx (The Cavern Club), The New Blue (Hannah Playhouse)
My love for it begins with Yiannoutsos’ script, which was workshopped as part of the Centrepoint Playwrights Intensive in 2023 with support from Nathan Joe. I delight in how confident it is. Its high concept dystopian landscape is filled with haunting imagery that the play never slows its wheels to explain to us. The world exists to reflect its protagonists, a quick way into the dread and melancholy they’re consumed by. There’s perhaps no better example of the impressive self-assuredness of NO NO NO, than its ending - A heartbreaking full-court-swing of a twist - which has the self assurance to treat its audience with respect and trust that they’ll put the pieces together.
Getting vaguely into spoiler territory, I find the central metaphor of NO NO NO deeply perceptive. There’s always that moment when you see an ex-partner, either with someone else, or just getting groceries, and you feel that sharp pang of loss that they're not quite the person you loved anymore. They’ve changed in some way, because that’s moving on. If they were still that person, and so were you, you’d probably still be together. NO NO NO simply asks, okay, what if they were actually a different person? A robot, perhaps. One discovery I took from NO NO NO, is that this heart-dropping-moment of lack of recognition is scary. It is fucking frightening. I knew it was sad, sure, but until I saw it told with a literal-body-snatcher-spin I never would’ve been able to articulate to myself the uneasy horror of it. This is genre, or just art, really, at its best. Finding an in-direct way into a hyper-specific-emotional-state that makes the audience feel it in their bones.
Of course, theatre is an art form of interrogation. It’s one thing to capture a moment, an idea, and another to examine it, to put other ideas in conversation with it, play with parallels, contrast. In it’s single act, NO NO NO, manages to not only expand, but dance on it’s central metaphor. It’s hard to go much further without getting fully into spoiler territory, but all I’ll say is that we as an audience have to get over our fear of robots, in an act of resonant symmetry with how we’d have to get over our fear of ex-partners moving on in real life, and even our fears of moving on ourselves.
The play is laugh out loud funny. This is inherent to the text, Yiannoutsos injects countless witty jokes and observations into her characters' conversations. Our protagonists are very emotionally vulnerable, which gives way to constant moments that are funny through being a little too real. A notable example of this is a monologue delivered in a borderline-manic-frenzy by Yiannoutsos about trying to be open to new love, which had me trying to laugh my way out of the pit forming in my stomach. However, Yiannoutsos’ co-star Isaac Martyn (who full declaration, I’m friends with) is far and away the funniest thing on stage. He has a stupendous physicality, to the point where it feels like he’s throwing his whole body behind her punchline, delivering every emotional beat with full-chested sincerity.
I’ll also note that there’s an entirely different, more AI focused read of this play that is equally valid, and even scarier. Whether you’re looking for a dissection of heartbreak, or an exploration of identity in the age of AI - you’ll find them both here. NO NO NO is a deeply layered, complex, eminently watchable work, and it fully floored me. I’m praying it comes back, here in Te Whanganui-a-Tara, and everywhere else.
Other Shoutouts: Ginge and Minge: Lay-Over (Te Auaha), TWILIGHT: The Loca Edition (BATS), Scuxx Deluxx (The Cavern Club), The New Blue (Hannah Playhouse)
Alia Marshall
Though I didn’t get to review any shows this Fringe, I did get to see some goodies! A highlight was the first show I went to see, U R Back at Martin Luckie Park. This was Barbarian’s second go at the mammoth challenge of putting on a show in a massive park, and though I didn’t get to see this first, I thoroughly enjoyed the second. It reminded me of when my friends and I were kids and we’d plan an elaborate game of pretend to play the next day, inventing obstacles and characters we’d encounter on the road to our destination. We were just playing for the sake of it, a bunch of 20-somethings who’d just finished work running around trying to find the Oracle, who gave me some incredibly sage wisdom. This work celebrated play, togetherness, and joy. I think I really needed it on that day, too.
Brie Keatley
I work in the tenancy sphere a lot, often with students who know pretty much nothing about the Residential Tenancy Act. There have been multiple occasions I’ve worked absolutely bat shit cases and gone ‘Huh, that’d make a good play.’ and that’s pretty much exactly what P I V O T have done in their first outing as a company. I adored the cast and how well they fit into their characters (particular shoutout to Hannah Doogan as Eden, I’m still thinking about her clutching the dirty pillow.) I also really loved the house remixed versions of classic kiwi songs as every performer had pipes on them. I can’t wait to see where this award winning show goes next and whether they decide to put it in next.
If you want to read my more in-depth thoughts on this show, check out my review.
Other shoutouts - Sandwich Artist (Development Season) (Te Auaha), U R Back (Martin Luckie Park), Blackpill (BATS)
If you want to read my more in-depth thoughts on this show, check out my review.
Other shoutouts - Sandwich Artist (Development Season) (Te Auaha), U R Back (Martin Luckie Park), Blackpill (BATS)
Emilie Hope
Because I have been mostly organising the Fringe reviewing season for Art Murmurs and running the social media platforms in this time, I only went to three shows in Fringe. And, in true theatre fashion, I went to them because I knew the people involved or because I’m friends with them. Also, because Art Murmurs as an organisation is fairly tight-knit, no one would have been able to review the shows without some level of conflict of interest. My fellow friend has already talked about The Sandwich Artist above, so I will blubber about Blackpill.
As soon as Sean Burnett Dudgale-Martin told me about the show, Blackpill, I was immediately intrigued. This is the kind of theatre we need in both the world and in Aotearoa New Zealand. I love theatre that both challenges our perspective and humanises people. Blackpill did exactly that. Blackpill is a verbatim play created from interviews with incels which explores their world view. This world view is quite damaging, not just to others, but also to themselves. Towards the end of the show, I was mostly worried for the character’s mental health – which was clearly not good. The real beauty of this play is it’s tension. There were so many times when the character is talking and everything he says sounds completely reasonable and logical. And then he will go too far or say something completely against (or plain wrong) about feminist values and I think Ah, here’s this distance again between you (an incel) and me (a feminist). The critical thinking in this character is there and the conclusions he draws about the world is so nearly correct, it’s tantalising. There’s almost a sense of hope; if only the right person was able to get through to this character in the right way, things might be a whole lot different. Rachel McLean (writer and director) has done spectacularly with this work. Seriously, bravo.
I’m not sure what their budget was for the digital effects, but it much surpassed my expectations and seriously enhanced the show. As this show has a single performer, I was curious to see how good Sean would be, and they were amazing. Sean is an incredible actor, managing to perform this very real human in front of me for an hour. It made me uncomfortable, so much so, I didn’t realsie how relieved I was to see them after the show in their Sean-clothes and looking more Sean-like. THAT is a seriously good performer and an incredibly well-made show. Shout out to Salomé Grace for that disgustingly good shirt the character wears.
I was hoping the team would win one of the four tour ready awards they were nominated for at the Fringe Awards, but it was not to be. I do hope the team will manage to tour this show around Aotearoa NZ and beyond because this is a show people need to see.
I’m also a big fan of going to see script readings, as this is really an opportunity for a scriptwriter to shine. So I went and saw a directed reading of Trojan Horse at Circa by James Cain. Thrillers and theatre so rarely work well together because theatre can’t do the bang-bang, explosion! types of thrillers – that’s pretty firmly in the hands of film. The type of thriller theatre can do well is emotional trillers. Of this kind, I find the best is family thrillers. With family, the ties are stronger, the stakes raised, the fury more palpable. Trojan Horse milks this to it’s capacity. The layers which unfold over the course of the play is fantastic. One massive twist, I managed to figure out half an hour before the characters, but only by that small margin. And when I figured it out – oh boy! – did it kick things up a knotch.
As a Greek mythology nerd, I super appreciated all the little ways the original story was woven in. For those who don’t know, Trojan Horse is adapted from the story of Clytemnestra and her son, Orestes. Clytemnestra was the wife of Agamemnon who lead the Greeks to Troy to raize the city and return Helen to his brother. However, because Agamemnon tricked their daughter Iphigenia into being sacrificed (human sacrifice was not something the ancient Greeks did and was considered barbaric) when both daughter and mother, Clytemnestra, thought she was going to marry the greatest warrior of all time, Achilles, this set a fire in Clytemnestra’s heart – she must avenge her daughter. The Greeks go to Troy and Clytemnestra returns to Greece where she plots and stews for ten years before her husband returns. As Agamemnon is having a bath, Clytemnestra slits his throat. Because the eldest son is bound to always avenge a father’s murder in ancient Greek times, but matricide is one of the big no-no’s of the era, their eldest son, Orestes, is left in a bit of a conundrum. Still, once he had grown into an adult, with the backing of his sister Electra, he murders his mother. He was haunted for the rest of his life by the Furies, who drove him mad. With this knowledge, I’ll let you find the ways this has been woven in or flipped into Trojan Horse once it’s staged (which it no doubt will be in the coming years).
With this story basis but dropping it into an Aoteatroa NZ context, Cain has written an exceptionally compelling and suspenseful play and I’m not surprised it has been shortlisted for this year’s Adam Award. I would love to see this play in it’s full dramatic glory.
Other shoutouts – Sandwich Artist (Te Auaha)
As soon as Sean Burnett Dudgale-Martin told me about the show, Blackpill, I was immediately intrigued. This is the kind of theatre we need in both the world and in Aotearoa New Zealand. I love theatre that both challenges our perspective and humanises people. Blackpill did exactly that. Blackpill is a verbatim play created from interviews with incels which explores their world view. This world view is quite damaging, not just to others, but also to themselves. Towards the end of the show, I was mostly worried for the character’s mental health – which was clearly not good. The real beauty of this play is it’s tension. There were so many times when the character is talking and everything he says sounds completely reasonable and logical. And then he will go too far or say something completely against (or plain wrong) about feminist values and I think Ah, here’s this distance again between you (an incel) and me (a feminist). The critical thinking in this character is there and the conclusions he draws about the world is so nearly correct, it’s tantalising. There’s almost a sense of hope; if only the right person was able to get through to this character in the right way, things might be a whole lot different. Rachel McLean (writer and director) has done spectacularly with this work. Seriously, bravo.
I’m not sure what their budget was for the digital effects, but it much surpassed my expectations and seriously enhanced the show. As this show has a single performer, I was curious to see how good Sean would be, and they were amazing. Sean is an incredible actor, managing to perform this very real human in front of me for an hour. It made me uncomfortable, so much so, I didn’t realsie how relieved I was to see them after the show in their Sean-clothes and looking more Sean-like. THAT is a seriously good performer and an incredibly well-made show. Shout out to Salomé Grace for that disgustingly good shirt the character wears.
I was hoping the team would win one of the four tour ready awards they were nominated for at the Fringe Awards, but it was not to be. I do hope the team will manage to tour this show around Aotearoa NZ and beyond because this is a show people need to see.
I’m also a big fan of going to see script readings, as this is really an opportunity for a scriptwriter to shine. So I went and saw a directed reading of Trojan Horse at Circa by James Cain. Thrillers and theatre so rarely work well together because theatre can’t do the bang-bang, explosion! types of thrillers – that’s pretty firmly in the hands of film. The type of thriller theatre can do well is emotional trillers. Of this kind, I find the best is family thrillers. With family, the ties are stronger, the stakes raised, the fury more palpable. Trojan Horse milks this to it’s capacity. The layers which unfold over the course of the play is fantastic. One massive twist, I managed to figure out half an hour before the characters, but only by that small margin. And when I figured it out – oh boy! – did it kick things up a knotch.
As a Greek mythology nerd, I super appreciated all the little ways the original story was woven in. For those who don’t know, Trojan Horse is adapted from the story of Clytemnestra and her son, Orestes. Clytemnestra was the wife of Agamemnon who lead the Greeks to Troy to raize the city and return Helen to his brother. However, because Agamemnon tricked their daughter Iphigenia into being sacrificed (human sacrifice was not something the ancient Greeks did and was considered barbaric) when both daughter and mother, Clytemnestra, thought she was going to marry the greatest warrior of all time, Achilles, this set a fire in Clytemnestra’s heart – she must avenge her daughter. The Greeks go to Troy and Clytemnestra returns to Greece where she plots and stews for ten years before her husband returns. As Agamemnon is having a bath, Clytemnestra slits his throat. Because the eldest son is bound to always avenge a father’s murder in ancient Greek times, but matricide is one of the big no-no’s of the era, their eldest son, Orestes, is left in a bit of a conundrum. Still, once he had grown into an adult, with the backing of his sister Electra, he murders his mother. He was haunted for the rest of his life by the Furies, who drove him mad. With this knowledge, I’ll let you find the ways this has been woven in or flipped into Trojan Horse once it’s staged (which it no doubt will be in the coming years).
With this story basis but dropping it into an Aoteatroa NZ context, Cain has written an exceptionally compelling and suspenseful play and I’m not surprised it has been shortlisted for this year’s Adam Award. I would love to see this play in it’s full dramatic glory.
Other shoutouts – Sandwich Artist (Te Auaha)
Katie Hill
Maeve O’Connell’s debut one-night-only solo show, Twilight–The Loca Edition was exactly what a hardcore Twilight fan (me) needed to kick off the Fringe season. The structure was more like a live podcast, with O’Connell at her most comfortable, gas bagging away to a friendly audience.
O’Connell could have made a show that dissected Twilight down to the letter, however, I think it’s smart that she doesn’t. O’Connell tells her audience that the show’s style is hard and fast, there’s not much lingering. We don’t get time to ruminate, and I love it — I’m swung from one cursed plot line of the mind of Stephanie Meyer to a game of God Tier vs. Bottom Tier of our principal characters. O’Connell is a born comic, there’s something so implicitly genuine about her demeanour — her improvised japes are quick and witty. It’s effortless effort, and I would see the next episode.
Other Shoutouts: Antarctic Endeavours (Gryphon Theatre), Blackpill (BATS) and Suitcase Show (Gryphon Theatre).
O’Connell could have made a show that dissected Twilight down to the letter, however, I think it’s smart that she doesn’t. O’Connell tells her audience that the show’s style is hard and fast, there’s not much lingering. We don’t get time to ruminate, and I love it — I’m swung from one cursed plot line of the mind of Stephanie Meyer to a game of God Tier vs. Bottom Tier of our principal characters. O’Connell is a born comic, there’s something so implicitly genuine about her demeanour — her improvised japes are quick and witty. It’s effortless effort, and I would see the next episode.
Other Shoutouts: Antarctic Endeavours (Gryphon Theatre), Blackpill (BATS) and Suitcase Show (Gryphon Theatre).
Sean Burnett Dugdale-Martin
Fringe was HECTIC. I was running to shows between nights I was rehearsing for my own. I have TWO major highlights, one personal one professional (?). Firstly, and from a reviewers perspective, Manage Your Expectations was RAW and cerebral and really made me THINK. I'm lucky enough to have received a shoutout and praise from the director for my thoughts on the show – which was super affirming!! The show really held me throughout and I had an AWESOME time.
Which takes me to my SECOND highlight: Twilight – The Loca Edition!! Personally, this was a huge high point of the fest, and in my opinion a great way to kick off the whole thing! For one night only a close friend took a leap of faith and did something that made them happy but also deeply terrified them and I am SO PROUD of them. It's a selfish highlight, I know, but behind closed doors I'M A SCUMBAG!!
Which takes me to my SECOND highlight: Twilight – The Loca Edition!! Personally, this was a huge high point of the fest, and in my opinion a great way to kick off the whole thing! For one night only a close friend took a leap of faith and did something that made them happy but also deeply terrified them and I am SO PROUD of them. It's a selfish highlight, I know, but behind closed doors I'M A SCUMBAG!!
That's all from us, folks, see you next Fringe!