Zoe Christall
It’s a Friday night as I walk into the electric atmosphere of Circa One. Everyone’s had a long week and we are ready for some sexy rock n’ roll as boasted in WITCH Music Theatre’s downright (if you’ll excuse the pun) bewitching poster. Seriously, props to Roc Torio’s photography and WITCH’s marketing. If the poster is anything to go by, I’m prepared to be amazed (and possibly seduced) by Lizzie.
I find my seats front and centre and am immediately impressed by the set design (Joshua Tucker-Emerson). In front of me sits a pleasingly realistic house with uncanny angles and a tight net of par can lights sitting above it. On either side of the house sits the makings of a live band. It’s like a Victorian home has been plonked in the middle of a rock concert. As the lights flash and the powerful voices of the cast pound through the room, I’m not sure whether to scream like I’m in the mosh or clap like I’m in a theatre. The rest of the audience chooses to do all of the above. And so begins 85 minutes of incredible vocals (thanks to Music Director Hayden Taylor of Ngāi Tahu, and Vocal Director Maya Handa Naff), phenomenal lights (Alex Fisher), sound (Kase Walker) and of course, love, lies, murder and female rage.
For anyone not familiar with the story of Lizzie Borden, all you need to know is in the simple school-yard rhyme the rest of us remember singing when we were 13: “Lizzie Borden took an axe, and gave her mother forty whacks. When she saw what she had done, she gave her father forty-one.” Oh, and did I mention that this rhyme is inspired by a real story? In the summer of 1892, the parents of Lizzie Borden are found dead in their home. The prime suspect? Lizzie herself. I won’t ruin the outcome of all this for you, but in both the smash hit musical and the history books, the question remains - did she do it? And if so, why? I’ll tell you what, WITCH Theatre’s stunning production of Lizzie has me rooting for the powerful women in this story, parricide or no. Bloody murder has never been so seductive and hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
There are many props to give to the creative and production team, so hold on to your axes and let’s dive in:
The show’s scenography did exactly what it set out to do. Tucker-Emerson’s set was beautifully realised, with one particularly fun easter egg revealed in the second half of the show. Meanwhile, Fisher’s lighting design added dimension and spectacle. Costume designer Rhys Tunley had the cast in striking outfits. I’m no expert in historical fashion, but Tunley seems to have nailed the Victorian silhouette with the full skirts and and even fuller sleeves, while also making things feel chic and sexy. It was an absolute delight to have a full view of the band and the score was at times uncanny, at others, beautiful, seductive and thrilling. I have to credit here the excellent band: Hayden Taylor, Esther Lee, Steve Morrison, Grace Kendrick, Bec Watson.
A cast of four wāhine toa dominated the stage. Every single cast member had the power to outshine the rest and yet they all shared the stage in perfect harmony.
Lizzie, played by Bailea Twomey (Ngāti Awa, Ngāi Te Rangi, Tapuika), was a charming performer with a powerful voice. At times, I did feel like she got lost in the songs and dropped character (I didn’t always know if I was watching Lizzie or Bailea). Having said that, she also had some moments of gorgeous vulnerability, thrilling mania and downright female rage. Her chemistry on stage with Alice (Rachael McSweeney) was palpable. McSweeney herself was by far the most empathetic performer on stage. She played Alice with such sweet innocence and full commitment to her character. Rumour has it that McSweeney is fresh out of a performing arts degree. I hope she graces many more stages in the future. Emma Borden, played by Jane Leonard (Ngāpuhi, Ngāti Hine), had a smooth and rich voice. Hers blended in with the others so well, I honestly forgot to appreciate it in its own right. Maggie—I mean, Bridget (Aimée Sullivan) I could probably talk about for the rest of this review. Sullivan’s acting style is a unique mix of mature, controlled performance mixed with just a dash of clown. Her face has subtitles and every reaction is a delight. Sullivan also gave birth to one of the funniest scenes I have ever seen in theatre, involving two sisters pleading innocence, a bible and some lip syncing (IYKYK).
A few small things didn’t work for me with this show. They were minor artistic decisions that broke my suspension of disbelief and felt a bit unnecessary. In some of the more musically dramatic scenes, characters produced handheld mics that were so at odds with the scene and world that the magic of their performance was instantly lost for me. Now, I totally understand the logic behind these mics. The show is a rock opera. There’s rock lighting. A band. The mics are meant to highlight that. However, the show worked very hard to develop all of the rock world outside of the very realistic Victorian house that most of the action existed in. Producing black microphones in a brown and beige set, while surrounded by oak tables and china cabinets was jarring. Not only this, but the actors suddenly relied on their use of the mics to drive the action of the scene - they stopped being their characters and became the lead singer in a band. What worked so much better was the choreography of the previous scenes and, well, the acting. For me, those moments broke that seamless mix of concert and theatre. If you have to introduce a mic motif, then make it diegetic. This did in fact happen in one scene, where the women used kitchen utensils as mics. Suddenly, I saw a group of women losing it in the kitchen as they sang their woes rather than a disconnected concert singer.
There were other tiny moments like these that tipped the show over the edge into being just a music gig rather than a piece of musical theatre. Things like ‘rock on’ facial expressions after a song about being sad to leave your sister alone with abusive parents. I get it - you smashed the song and you should be feeling yourself - but maybe your character isn’t feeling particularly chipper?
Having said all that, I LOVED the show. Lizzie had everything a rock opera should have, and I implore you to go and see it.
Lizzie is on at Circa Theatre until the 7th September | Get in fast - I fully expect this show to sell out | https://www.circa.co.nz/package/lizzie/
For anyone not familiar with the story of Lizzie Borden, all you need to know is in the simple school-yard rhyme the rest of us remember singing when we were 13: “Lizzie Borden took an axe, and gave her mother forty whacks. When she saw what she had done, she gave her father forty-one.” Oh, and did I mention that this rhyme is inspired by a real story? In the summer of 1892, the parents of Lizzie Borden are found dead in their home. The prime suspect? Lizzie herself. I won’t ruin the outcome of all this for you, but in both the smash hit musical and the history books, the question remains - did she do it? And if so, why? I’ll tell you what, WITCH Theatre’s stunning production of Lizzie has me rooting for the powerful women in this story, parricide or no. Bloody murder has never been so seductive and hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
There are many props to give to the creative and production team, so hold on to your axes and let’s dive in:
The show’s scenography did exactly what it set out to do. Tucker-Emerson’s set was beautifully realised, with one particularly fun easter egg revealed in the second half of the show. Meanwhile, Fisher’s lighting design added dimension and spectacle. Costume designer Rhys Tunley had the cast in striking outfits. I’m no expert in historical fashion, but Tunley seems to have nailed the Victorian silhouette with the full skirts and and even fuller sleeves, while also making things feel chic and sexy. It was an absolute delight to have a full view of the band and the score was at times uncanny, at others, beautiful, seductive and thrilling. I have to credit here the excellent band: Hayden Taylor, Esther Lee, Steve Morrison, Grace Kendrick, Bec Watson.
A cast of four wāhine toa dominated the stage. Every single cast member had the power to outshine the rest and yet they all shared the stage in perfect harmony.
Lizzie, played by Bailea Twomey (Ngāti Awa, Ngāi Te Rangi, Tapuika), was a charming performer with a powerful voice. At times, I did feel like she got lost in the songs and dropped character (I didn’t always know if I was watching Lizzie or Bailea). Having said that, she also had some moments of gorgeous vulnerability, thrilling mania and downright female rage. Her chemistry on stage with Alice (Rachael McSweeney) was palpable. McSweeney herself was by far the most empathetic performer on stage. She played Alice with such sweet innocence and full commitment to her character. Rumour has it that McSweeney is fresh out of a performing arts degree. I hope she graces many more stages in the future. Emma Borden, played by Jane Leonard (Ngāpuhi, Ngāti Hine), had a smooth and rich voice. Hers blended in with the others so well, I honestly forgot to appreciate it in its own right. Maggie—I mean, Bridget (Aimée Sullivan) I could probably talk about for the rest of this review. Sullivan’s acting style is a unique mix of mature, controlled performance mixed with just a dash of clown. Her face has subtitles and every reaction is a delight. Sullivan also gave birth to one of the funniest scenes I have ever seen in theatre, involving two sisters pleading innocence, a bible and some lip syncing (IYKYK).
A few small things didn’t work for me with this show. They were minor artistic decisions that broke my suspension of disbelief and felt a bit unnecessary. In some of the more musically dramatic scenes, characters produced handheld mics that were so at odds with the scene and world that the magic of their performance was instantly lost for me. Now, I totally understand the logic behind these mics. The show is a rock opera. There’s rock lighting. A band. The mics are meant to highlight that. However, the show worked very hard to develop all of the rock world outside of the very realistic Victorian house that most of the action existed in. Producing black microphones in a brown and beige set, while surrounded by oak tables and china cabinets was jarring. Not only this, but the actors suddenly relied on their use of the mics to drive the action of the scene - they stopped being their characters and became the lead singer in a band. What worked so much better was the choreography of the previous scenes and, well, the acting. For me, those moments broke that seamless mix of concert and theatre. If you have to introduce a mic motif, then make it diegetic. This did in fact happen in one scene, where the women used kitchen utensils as mics. Suddenly, I saw a group of women losing it in the kitchen as they sang their woes rather than a disconnected concert singer.
There were other tiny moments like these that tipped the show over the edge into being just a music gig rather than a piece of musical theatre. Things like ‘rock on’ facial expressions after a song about being sad to leave your sister alone with abusive parents. I get it - you smashed the song and you should be feeling yourself - but maybe your character isn’t feeling particularly chipper?
Having said all that, I LOVED the show. Lizzie had everything a rock opera should have, and I implore you to go and see it.
Lizzie is on at Circa Theatre until the 7th September | Get in fast - I fully expect this show to sell out | https://www.circa.co.nz/package/lizzie/