Alia Marshall
Hone Kouka’s latest play Ngā Rorirori (or the idiots in te reo pākehā) is returning to the stage two years after a smash hit season at Circa. I missed it last time, so I’m stoked to finally get to see this piece of mahi from a playwright whose plays sit on my bookshelf full of notes. As the doors are about to open, we are welcomed by one of the ushers with a pōwhiri, who cheekily adds at the end that we’re in the perfect place tonight as the rain buckets down above us.
The show opens with a powerful dance number set to the backdrop of familiar protest chants and I’m immediately drawn in. Seeing these performers strut their stuff with a massive fan in front of them is a powerful reminder of what's going on outside the walls of this theatre. The show is littered with dance numbers and physical theatre that, paired with fantastic sound design (Maarire Brunning-Kouka, Reon Bell, Karnan Saba) really maintains the energy throughout the show.
Pillow (Manuel Solomon) has just returned home to his sister Manuela (Mycah Keall) at the marae after another failed business venture. As the only two members of their hapū, they are forced to defend their claim to their whenua as the Tikanga Police seek to strip them of their ancestral right. Chaos ensues as Pillow enlists the help of Stacey Li Paul (Nomuna Amarbat) to try seem more pākehā to the visiting Crown representative (whose arrival has everyone on eggshells), and things only get sillier when Rere (Sefa Tunupopo) arrives. As the play goes on and the Crown rep (Stela Dara) finally arrives, the farce escalates to looney tunes levels while the characters chase each other from room to room and accidentally blind one another with mouthwash. This dance infused farce is unconventional, but I really enjoy seeing such bold experimentation with form.
A series of flats make up the walls of the marae, adorned with various posters and pin boards that give us a glimpse into the lives of the people who reside here. Under certain lights some of the flats become transparent allowing us to see the performers behind them, and I especially love the large window looking into the wharekai. Strong attention to detail in set design (Mark McEntyre) is such a treat to watch, and even more so when the set is so transformative!
Each performer committed so hard to their role; I can’t imagine how difficult it is to maintain that level of energy over 90 minutes but each one of them did. Everyone brought such vibrance to their characters, it’s clear they’re having a lot of fun up there.
That being said, I am not sold on the voice over. While I do understand that the point here is to draw connections to Tik Tok and offer the potential for a radio play, not hearing the actors voices completely takes me out of it. I find myself focusing more on whether the actors mouthed their words correctly than the words themselves, and silently yearn for the audio to stop so we can hear the performers voices. Jokes don’t land as hard when the performer has no control over the comedic timing, and tender moments feel disconnected when the lip syncing doesn’t line up perfectly. This is a text full of life, but that gets sucked away when the liveness is disrupted by the chosen medium.
There are scenes and sequences that I find a little confusing, and some loose ends that never get tied up, but overall it is a fun show. The text itself has some really excellent observations and things to say about being māori in 2024, highlighting the almost farcical nature of having to defend your ancestral right to your whenua. I think that reworking the text to use the voice overs more sparingly, or placing more emphasis on the role technology has in our lives would provided that liveness and depth that I find myself craving. Playing with form is something I adore in theatre, I just think this choice in particular may not have been the most effective. I say all this as someone who really looks up to Kouka and his mahi, and I would love to see what a new iteration of this project could look like.
Ngā Rorirori is a multi-media farce that forces us to think about just how ridiculous it is to defend your claim to something that was always yours. As the government launches attack after attack on te reo māori, Te Tiriti, and the lives of tangata whenua in general, we need politically charged māori theatre more than ever.
⭐⭐⭐1/2
Ngā Rorirori closed on Saturday 14th of September at Te Whaea, and is on it’s way up to Tāmaki Makaurau this week!
Pillow (Manuel Solomon) has just returned home to his sister Manuela (Mycah Keall) at the marae after another failed business venture. As the only two members of their hapū, they are forced to defend their claim to their whenua as the Tikanga Police seek to strip them of their ancestral right. Chaos ensues as Pillow enlists the help of Stacey Li Paul (Nomuna Amarbat) to try seem more pākehā to the visiting Crown representative (whose arrival has everyone on eggshells), and things only get sillier when Rere (Sefa Tunupopo) arrives. As the play goes on and the Crown rep (Stela Dara) finally arrives, the farce escalates to looney tunes levels while the characters chase each other from room to room and accidentally blind one another with mouthwash. This dance infused farce is unconventional, but I really enjoy seeing such bold experimentation with form.
A series of flats make up the walls of the marae, adorned with various posters and pin boards that give us a glimpse into the lives of the people who reside here. Under certain lights some of the flats become transparent allowing us to see the performers behind them, and I especially love the large window looking into the wharekai. Strong attention to detail in set design (Mark McEntyre) is such a treat to watch, and even more so when the set is so transformative!
Each performer committed so hard to their role; I can’t imagine how difficult it is to maintain that level of energy over 90 minutes but each one of them did. Everyone brought such vibrance to their characters, it’s clear they’re having a lot of fun up there.
That being said, I am not sold on the voice over. While I do understand that the point here is to draw connections to Tik Tok and offer the potential for a radio play, not hearing the actors voices completely takes me out of it. I find myself focusing more on whether the actors mouthed their words correctly than the words themselves, and silently yearn for the audio to stop so we can hear the performers voices. Jokes don’t land as hard when the performer has no control over the comedic timing, and tender moments feel disconnected when the lip syncing doesn’t line up perfectly. This is a text full of life, but that gets sucked away when the liveness is disrupted by the chosen medium.
There are scenes and sequences that I find a little confusing, and some loose ends that never get tied up, but overall it is a fun show. The text itself has some really excellent observations and things to say about being māori in 2024, highlighting the almost farcical nature of having to defend your ancestral right to your whenua. I think that reworking the text to use the voice overs more sparingly, or placing more emphasis on the role technology has in our lives would provided that liveness and depth that I find myself craving. Playing with form is something I adore in theatre, I just think this choice in particular may not have been the most effective. I say all this as someone who really looks up to Kouka and his mahi, and I would love to see what a new iteration of this project could look like.
Ngā Rorirori is a multi-media farce that forces us to think about just how ridiculous it is to defend your claim to something that was always yours. As the government launches attack after attack on te reo māori, Te Tiriti, and the lives of tangata whenua in general, we need politically charged māori theatre more than ever.
⭐⭐⭐1/2
Ngā Rorirori closed on Saturday 14th of September at Te Whaea, and is on it’s way up to Tāmaki Makaurau this week!