Katie Hill
Trick of the Light’s Suitcase Show is a collection of tales tucked away and then masterfully revealed, in yes, suitcases. Now, I am no seasoned Trick of the Light audience member, through no one’s fault but my own, I haven’t seen any of their other critically acclaimed works. I think this is a good thing, and I try my best to not go in with any preconceived ideas of what Trick of the Light is – other than their namesake, of course! It’s less than a minute in, and I get the hype. Suitcase Show is sophisticated play, it’s adult bedtime stories with child-like wonder. My friend jests that the show really is a Trick of the Light – but, by god it’s true, my mouth hangs open for most of the show! It’s crafty as all hell. Through deftly wielding scale and shadow, Hannah Smith and Ralph McCubbin Howell are obvious frontrunners in this corner of the theatre-making world.
Smith and McCubbin-Howell note that this is the premier of Suitcase Show – they render themselves ‘tinkerers’, and that their work will always be moving and shifting. I’m taking this into account here, any comments re: things to consider adjusting, are minor and nit-picky.
Tinkerers is a delightful descriptor to encapsulate the essence of Suitcase Show. It provides me with a satisfying image of their team of prop makers (Smith, McCubbin-Howell, Rebekah De Roo, Emory Otto, and Romina Menses) crafting, cutting, molding, and shaping these stories, with tiny scissors and concentrated faces. It also seems apt, that tinkerers would carry the tricks of their trade in a bundle of mismatching suitcases. Called into a state of curiosity by Smith and McCubbin-Howell, I ponder on what stories our suitcases tell. The feeling of relief when our suitcase pushes through the flaps at baggage claim, the feeling of exposure when it slides through the x-ray machine and a stranger makes a snap judgment on its contents, the things we decide we need, to feel like us, when we’re not home. McCubbin-Howell speaks to my thoughts in a poetic tale of a child panic-packing their suitcase as water levels rise. The X-rayed outline of a teddy, a book, and other objects I can’t make out are displayed on the border patrol screen. This monologue diverges from the fantastical and ritualistic narratives found in previous suitcases, yet it cleverly serves as a unifying element, drawing more weight to the show beyond its satisfying and visually appealing narratives. As McCubbin-Howell concludes, “they all end the same way.” – which shall, and should remain an unanswered question.
There’s a softness to Suitcase Show that I enjoy. Some beats of the show feel necessarily staccato – a plug in a socket, a wheeled suitcase moved into position. But it’s the soft beats that I replay in my head. Inside the first suitcase is an expertly designed snow-laden village. At the story’s end, McCubbin-Howell shuts the suitcase, pushing in both sides at the same time. I expect the village buildings to crash into each other, but instead, they align silently and perfectly. It’s magic. Later, in a tale involving Russians, trains, and bears, McCubbin-Howell silently puffs up a piece of white fabric, transforming it into a mountain. It feels remarkable that such a gentle action could create an entire landform with valleys and peaks. It’s the use of silence that lets me know just how clever Trick of the Light is, the sound (Tane Upjohn Beatson & Robyn Bryant), and its origin (pre-recorded or live) scream careful intention. I do have a preference, however, for the live sound: it feels more akin to an improvised bedtime story and the aura of Suitcase Show. The idea that all the tricks are coming out of a suitcase, and from the suitcase holder is much of the magic to me.
Here’s my minor nitpick. One of the suitcases reveals an overhead projector, bring 'em’ back I say! Anyway, this is the tale of a lonely rocket ship making its way to Earth – I think? The images flashed on the projector are expertly drawn and animated, but the transitions don’t feel as soft as other stories. I don’t get to enjoy it as the images switch too fast. McCubbin-Howell produces a mobile of planets to rotate around the tiny rocket but it’s used for less than a second, and the shadows it casts are minor. Smith has earned her pace, she can slow down here and give the design time to shine! I should also mention that there are some tech issues on opening night, the show is put on pause 20 minutes in to adjust sound levels, McCubbin-Howell and Smith handle this professionally – I’m not at all perturbed by it, but it could be the reason the aforementioned tale seemed slightly rushed. I’m sure this won’t be a recurring event!
Suitcase Show is a masterful weaving of stories through sonder and soul. Trick of the Light has certainly convinced me I need to be better at buying tickets to shows, and I won’t miss its next installment, neither should you! It’s on for one more night on the 2nd of March, at this stage tickets are sold out, but try and catch some late releases on the New Zealand Fringe website or rock up on the night.