by Laura Ferguson
I’ve missed this. The anticipation of a show from a performer I haven’t seen before. It is true I have never had the pleasure of being an audience member for James Roque, but I have been following his articles on The Spinoff and thoroughly enjoy his openness and analysis of New Zealand racism. The freshness of Roque’s approach is obvious from the start as he aptly begins his show, Legal Alien: “I resolved to do something last year,” he says, a playful energy filling the stage. “I decided to say my name the Filipino way.” This premise leads us on a journey of a Kiwi-Filipino immigrant and the resolution to be a Pākehā induced ROH-ke no longer, but the reclaimed Roh-KEH instead.
Roque’s set has me trilling from laughter from the offset. He jokes about dating, family, food and witty banter surrounding the outcomes of mixing Filipino and Kiwi cultures together. Not to mention he warms my nerdy cartoon heart with Pokémon references and a Harry Potter one, too. However, delightful as these reasons are, they are not why I love this show. Instead, it is Roque’s earnestness with us, a mostly white audience, about his experiences as an immigrant. Despite living here for 18 years and coming from a hardworking, community-contributing family, Roque shares times when New Zealand society has treated him harshly.
Ranging from seemingly innocuous questions to outright verbal abuse, Roque outlines the racial tensions that simmer continuously in our daily lives. Tensions that my skin colour allows me the privilege of not being privy to. That is Roque’s point. His set is carefully crafted to be quintessential stand-up, right down to the wooden stool and mic stand. His work follows the patterns this audience is used to: set-up, ramp up, punchline. We know when to listen, when to pause, when to laugh. And now we know when we should reflect on our behaviour.
Roque has thought the structure of his show out and we fall in line accordingly. As the set goes on, laughter at stereotypes become questioning. Are we laughing at such stereotypes or at how ridiculous they are in the first place? Are we allowed to laugh at all? As Roque shares the camaraderie of shared experience with other Kiwi-Filipinos in the crowd, I have to wonder how much I have personally contributed to their dread fear of feeling unwelcome. I’ve never been told to ‘go back where I came from’. My Canadian friends are usually described as expats rather than immigrants. What else has my privilege blinded me to?
Even as this miasma of social morality swirls internally, Roque is ever-charming on the stage. He shares another story of his family life, this time about his grandfather and a circumstance that played out like a sitcom. It is filled with love and hilarity. It occurs to me that I rarely see a comedian smile so truthfully on stage. Roque loves performing and he is happy being able to tell his story, to be a voice. It is an absolute joy to watch.
James Roque’s Legal Alien had me asking myself what more I could do to aid in realising an equitable society as well as massaging my overworked cheeks. Roque is a master of being able to bring New Zealand’s cultural darkness into the spotlight while still making me laugh heartily throughout. Legal Alien may have set its sights firmly on New Zealand space, but being able to experience it through another’s eyes was an abduction of self I would endeavour to probe through again.
James Roque’s Legal Alien is running until May 5th 2018. You can find tickets here.
Ranging from seemingly innocuous questions to outright verbal abuse, Roque outlines the racial tensions that simmer continuously in our daily lives. Tensions that my skin colour allows me the privilege of not being privy to. That is Roque’s point. His set is carefully crafted to be quintessential stand-up, right down to the wooden stool and mic stand. His work follows the patterns this audience is used to: set-up, ramp up, punchline. We know when to listen, when to pause, when to laugh. And now we know when we should reflect on our behaviour.
Roque has thought the structure of his show out and we fall in line accordingly. As the set goes on, laughter at stereotypes become questioning. Are we laughing at such stereotypes or at how ridiculous they are in the first place? Are we allowed to laugh at all? As Roque shares the camaraderie of shared experience with other Kiwi-Filipinos in the crowd, I have to wonder how much I have personally contributed to their dread fear of feeling unwelcome. I’ve never been told to ‘go back where I came from’. My Canadian friends are usually described as expats rather than immigrants. What else has my privilege blinded me to?
Even as this miasma of social morality swirls internally, Roque is ever-charming on the stage. He shares another story of his family life, this time about his grandfather and a circumstance that played out like a sitcom. It is filled with love and hilarity. It occurs to me that I rarely see a comedian smile so truthfully on stage. Roque loves performing and he is happy being able to tell his story, to be a voice. It is an absolute joy to watch.
James Roque’s Legal Alien had me asking myself what more I could do to aid in realising an equitable society as well as massaging my overworked cheeks. Roque is a master of being able to bring New Zealand’s cultural darkness into the spotlight while still making me laugh heartily throughout. Legal Alien may have set its sights firmly on New Zealand space, but being able to experience it through another’s eyes was an abduction of self I would endeavour to probe through again.
James Roque’s Legal Alien is running until May 5th 2018. You can find tickets here.