Alia Marshall
Red Leap’s response to Janet Frame’s novel Owls Do Cry is a triumph of contemporary theatre in Aotearoa. For the past 14 years, this company has dazzled audiences with their innovative takes on the theatrical form, earning them several awards and critical acclaim. My first introduction to the company was in a first year theatre lecture watching a clip from The Arrival, I remember being mesmerised by the visual storytelling and explosive physicality. Owls Do Cry is my first time experiencing them in the flesh, and I’m absolutely fizzing as we wait to file into the space.
It’s opening night and the energy in Circa’s foyer is infectious. We’re greeted by the actors who stand united (and projected) at the back of the stage. The space itself is stripped back, the stark walls of Circa One are lined with various lights, chairs, flight boxes, but I’m most excited about the microphones dangling from the ceiling, no doubt to be used in a multitude of ways (spoiler, they are). As the lights dim and a hush falls over the audience, I think for a moment about my first year self, about how excited she would be at the prospect of finally seeing a Red Leap show - and getting to review it no less. I know I’m in for a treat.
The show opens with a jovial song and dance introducing us to the world of the play, and eventually the novel. The flight boxes are filled with copies of Frame’s novel that - to my delight - are distributed amongst the audience during this sequence. Toby (Arlo Gibson) invites us to not only interact with our books by creating a soundscape, but to consider the weight of the words inside them, and the story which this performance responds to.
The show opens with a jovial song and dance introducing us to the world of the play, and eventually the novel. The flight boxes are filled with copies of Frame’s novel that - to my delight - are distributed amongst the audience during this sequence. Toby (Arlo Gibson) invites us to not only interact with our books by creating a soundscape, but to consider the weight of the words inside them, and the story which this performance responds to.
Photography by Andi Crown. The cast of Owls Do Cry.
Frame’s debut novel deals with the story of the Withers whanau in small town Aotearoa following a tragedy that impacts each of them in different ways. As mentioned in the director's note, this is not an adaptation of the novel, but rather a response to it. An exploration of what’s considered the first great Aotearoa novel that gives us a brief glimpse into Frame’s rich, lyrical world. I must admit, I hadn’t read the novel before attending the show, but I don’t think I needed to (that’s not to say I didn’t run to a bookstore the second I had a chance to buy a copy).
The direction, by Malia Johnston, is flawless. Shows with so much physicality, scenography, and room for interpretation can be difficult to pull off, but the cohesion of the ensemble and Johnston’s vision bring it together with such harmony. Decisions made onstage are intentional and precise, taking us on a journey through so many highs and lows with precision and care.
Photography by Andi Crown. Ross McCormack and Arlo Gibson perform.
Each member of the ensemble is a delight to watch. When they come together, they move and breathe like one living organism, but individually they captivate us throughout the show. The parents of the Withers family, Bob (Ross McCormack) and Amy (Margaret-Mary Hollins), were a particular joy to watch in their moments dancing together, their syncronised bodies telling a wordless story of their lives together. Hannah Lynch has my jaw hanging open as she puts her talent on display by singing, dancing, and playing a multitude of instruments throughout, while telling the heartwrenching story of Francie.
Daphne (Comfrey Sanders) has one of my favourite moments, staunchly holding the audience in the palm of her hand as she commands the lights around her while reciting one of the few monologues in the show (if you’ve seen the trailer, you know the scene I mean). Chicks (Katrina George) is not heard from until the very end, ever present but wordless until the final few moments. Part of me wishes we heard more from her character, but part of me loves the idea of being the forgotten sibling of the family. Arlo Gibson delivers a visceral performance as Toby, his dead eyed stare is something I won’t forget soon, and the relationship between him and his father drew more than a few tears out of me. But what was the most incredible thing to watch was how each performer enjoyed every second onstage, to see an artist enjoying their craft with such playfulness and joy truly is a gift.
Daphne (Comfrey Sanders) has one of my favourite moments, staunchly holding the audience in the palm of her hand as she commands the lights around her while reciting one of the few monologues in the show (if you’ve seen the trailer, you know the scene I mean). Chicks (Katrina George) is not heard from until the very end, ever present but wordless until the final few moments. Part of me wishes we heard more from her character, but part of me loves the idea of being the forgotten sibling of the family. Arlo Gibson delivers a visceral performance as Toby, his dead eyed stare is something I won’t forget soon, and the relationship between him and his father drew more than a few tears out of me. But what was the most incredible thing to watch was how each performer enjoyed every second onstage, to see an artist enjoying their craft with such playfulness and joy truly is a gift.
Photography by Andi Crown. Hannah Lynch performing.
Owls Do Cry is a reminder of what theatre can and should be. Not only is it a visual masterpiece, incorporating some of the most stunning AV I’ve seen in a long time, but it’s also a masterpiece in storytelling, in remembering our literary whakapapa. To see Janet Frame’s words and mind brought to life in such a visceral, touching, and dynamic way is an incredible introduction to the author, so I promise you don’t need to have read the book! I implore you to see this show while you can, surrender yourself to the poetry, and allow it to linger in your thoughts like it did mine.
Owls Do Cry is on at Circa One until the 13th of November.