The Outrun is a difficult watch, but that’s not to say it shouldn’t be seen. Painful, searing, infuriating, and at times nauseating, this story of addiction and mental illness is hopeful and beautiful all the same.

Based on Amy Liptrot’s 2017 memoir and directed by Nora Fingscheidt, The Outrun stars Saoirse Ronan as Rona, a girl who finds herself in the wake of destruction as she shakily treads the path towards sobriety. After hitting rock bottom in London, Rona finds herself back home on the Orkney Islands, a landscape as desolate, stark, and tumultuous as her own soul. Here, she comes face to face with her demons and contends with her religious mother Annie (Saskia Reeves) and her bipolar father (Stephen Dillane), so deeper she retreats to the more remote island of Papay.

The fragmented story is stitched together by brilliant editing work from Stephan Bechinger, who uses crashing cuts to break from recovery to relapse as shots of nature bleed into EDM-fuelled rampages. Cleverly, Fingscheidt uses hair dye to delineate time as well. Ronan’s performance is nuanced and at odds with itself, both deliberate and shaky, fierce and afraid, delicate and a force of nature.

Despite the quick editing and Yunus Roy Imer’s striking cinematography, the lack of driving narrative makes the story slow and tedious in the middle. Only Ronan’s acting and natural screen presence carries us through. We fear the worst as events merely happen, often flatly, the truth laid bare. Nothing is sacred or damned, it just is.  

Juxtaposing scientific explanations for natural phenomena with folklore, Rona draws a parallel to memory. In this story, both memory and folklore act as impressions of reality. During her journey, natural chaos replaces her inner turmoil, trauma, and need to create chaos of her own. As she seeks control, she is ever fighting the impulse to destroy. She finds comfort in nature – the ebb and flow of the tide, the harshness of its elements – as she wades in the glacial north Atlantic and raging through winter storms. In this poetic tale, Rona becomes a conductor for the natural world around her, learning to make sense of her memories, her reality.

Verdi’s Overture to La forza del destino was a very accessible entry to this concert. Its familiar themes, moments of drama, and ‘proper’ ending – i.e. one that went on for a few bars and was obvious about when it was finished – were perfect for ‘almost, but not quite the end of the week’ at 7:30pm on a Thursday.

Soprano Eliza Boom, tenor Paul O’Neill, and conductor José Luis Gómez led us through some of the best of Italian pop music of the late 19^th and early 20^th century. The programme covered four composers and 10 operas. Those with an interest in opera would have recognised the composers: Verdi, Puccini, Mascagni, and Leoncavallo. Those less familiar with the opera, but with an ear for melody, would have easily recognised enough of the programme from soundtracks and advertisements to feel quite at home.

With so many separate items on the programme, Gómez provided a valuable and light-hearted narrative throughout. Context about the time when the composers were working, and scene setting so we knew what the aria was stating, gave the audience an understanding and additional pleasure that should not be underestimated.

Two soloists alone on stage is a far cry from a performance with their fellow cast members, chorus, costumes, lighting, and scenery. Despite missing all these usual extras, Boom and O’Neill did well to convey the full opera experience. They were most comfortable when on stage together and a nice touch was O’Neill (Rodolfo) escorting Boom (Mimi), arm in arm, into the wings, as if they were on stage in a full performance.

As ever, the orchestra was in very fine form, working with and responding well to Gómez. Together they directed and played with energy, emotion, and an obvious respect for the music despite their undoubted familiarity with much of what they had in front of them.

Oscar Kightley’s seminal 1997 play has been given a contemporary refresh in the wake of the New Zealand Government’s 2021 Apology to the Pacific Peoples who came to Aotearoa in the 1970s wanting to make a better life and remained as overstayers. They faced discrimination, persecution, and unjust brutality from police, government, and media, culminating in the infamous dawn raids of the play’s title. Unceremoniously deported back to their island homes, many people’s lives were upended and families were torn apart.

A staple of school drama assessments for the past two decades, it’s a pleasure to see Dawn Raids on a big stage. Despite the grandiosity of The Opera House, this Pacific Underground and Auckland Theatre Company production maintains a cosy feel through straightforward theatrical devices – innovative lighting (Jo Kilgour), flying gauze screens (set design by Marc McEntyre, G.O.M Arts Collective), a spot-on wardrobe (Tony De Goldi, G.O.M Arts Collective), and an ever-present live band (musical director Posenai Mavaega, Lijah Mavaega, Josephine Mavaega, co-director Tanya Muagututi’a, Andrew Sione, Seto Faulo, and Isitolo Alesana) – to tell one family’s story.

The cast is uniformly excellent with Michael Falesiu’s astounding singing voice bridging many of the scenes. He plays Sione, a nightclub crooner with the Noble Hawaiian Sabretooth Tigers who is too afraid to admit to his Samoan heritage in public. It’s his fiancée Fuarosa (Sina Esera) his family are hiding, never able to go out for fear of being grabbed from the streets.

Lauie Tofa gives a performance highlight as Mose, Sione’s father. While the plot focuses on the dawn raids, a running undercurrent is toxic masculinity in Samoan culture and Tofa embodies that hilariously, then frighteningly as he switches from daft dad to domestic dominance and, finally, betrayal.

Of course, coming from the pen of Oscar Kightley, Dawn Raids is very funny and it’s this humour, contrasted with the seriousness of the historical context, that is the play’s great success. It strikes a perfect balance; the dread inherent in the sweeping police torches and baying German shepherds is all the more terrifying in the wake of laughter.

This is a rare opportunity to enjoy a top-notch production of a New Zealand classic. Catch it while you can.

Esperanza Spalding’s music has been described as “weaving jazz, soul, funk, rock and improvisation – defying categorisation”. For the final night of the Wellington Jazz Festival, we were privileged to have this five-time GRAMMY®-winning vocalist, bassist, and pianist performing here. Joining her were GRAMMY-winning guitarist, bassist, and producer Matthew Stevens, with drummer and producer Eric Doob rounding off this multi-talented trio.

The addition of two incredible dancers from New York City’s Antonio Brown Dance company, Tashae Udo and Kaylim Horrigan, provided another dimension and gave depth to the work. Backing vocals by Udo, Horrigan, Stevens, and Doob enhanced the songs further by adding layers of rich harmonies – complementing Spalding’s at times ethereal vocals.

The complex rhythmic changes of the first track I Want It Now, with Spalding on piano, showcased her extreme vocal dexterity and range. We were in awe of an artist seemingly at the height of her creativity but, as she mentioned, she only turned 40 two days earlier! So, hopefully she still has a long musical and spiritual journey ahead for us to look forward to.

Five songs from Spalding’s complex and multifaceted 2018 album 12 Little Spells followed. The title track 12 Little Spells expounded the virtues of the thoracic spine! Dancing The Animal was a deep-themed, meandering work about the mind. On the very catchy Thang, about hips, Spalding joined the dancers to showcase hers – cue ecstatic applause! 

Starting with a virtuoso four-minute drum solo, I Know You Know was an electric-bass-driven song about ‘a suitor playing coy’. With Others, about ears, was followed by Black Gold, featuring beautiful a capella singing and scatting. The lighting and sound crews deserve a shoutout here for creating a special ambience for the occasion.

For the first encore, the band and dancers (sitting on mats) moved to the very front of the stage for the gorgeous ballad Formwela 4, featuring all five voices and Stevens’ hypnotic acoustic guitar. To finish the concert, and with the audience humming along, was the final song Satisfied.… and from our standing ovation, it was clear that we were!

On as part of the 2024 Wellington Jazz Festival, ORO MĀIA is a night of poetry, music, and performance that showcases te reo Māori translations of the work of African American writer and activist Dr Maya Angelou. Maarire Brunning-Kouka leads a seven-piece band, who are joined on stage by the formidable Maisey Rika, Miriama McDowell, Mere Boynton, Erena Koopu, and Tuakoi Ōhia. These five make their entrance from the back of the theatre in a chorus of unnerving laughter, and make their way slowly to the stage, in full command of the space. It’s a fitting opening to a night that revels in the power, joy, and unflinching beauty of Angelou’s poetry.

The translations have been taken from He kupu nā te māia: He kohinga ruri nā Maya Angelou, a new book from publishers Kotahi Rau Pukapuka that contains a selection of Angelou’s poems, translated into te reo Māori by 34 wāhine from across Aotearoa. The translators are all graduates from Te Panekiretanga o Te Reo (The Institute of Excellence in Māori Language).

As the performers share the poems, at times through dramatised spoken word, at times singing alone or in chorus, they embody all the shifting moods of Angelou’s writing, moving deftly between the wit, defiance, sexiness, and wisdom. They are supported by apt original music from Maarire Brunning-Kouka. The music and styling fittingly speak to the legacy of American jazz and soul traditions but are also undeniably Māori and contemporary.

It’s always a joy to return to Angelou’s writing, and it feels like an immense privilege to do so with a creative team and ensemble of performers who so profoundly understand her voice. Like the poetry at its centre, ORO MĀIA is powerful, joyful, and life affirming.

Fly My Pretties are back, with sizzling new talent, new songs, and the same old ethos of collaborative musical magic. Their loyal Pōneke fans were treated to three concerts in the Great Hall of the Dominion Museum Building at Massey University as part of the Wellington Jazz Festival. Even more excitingly for us, these concerts were the recording sessions for Fly My Pretties’ upcoming album Elemental and overflowed with sweet new material.

Elemental is Fly My Pretties’ eighth album and feels resonant with their platinum debut Fly My Pretties Live at Bats. The much-beloved Aotearoa musical collaboration was founded in Wellington in 2004 by Mikee Tucker and The Black Seeds frontman Barnaby Weir, and has championed a plethora of Kiwi musicians over its 20-year history. This latest incarnation features 11 established and emerging Kiwi artists, including the velvet-voiced and grounding presence Aja, firecracker pop sensation Riiki Reid, and the indomitable Taylah.

The featured artists all have independent careers, but came together to write songs for Elemental. The setlist managed to strike a balance between stylistically eclectic and thematically cohesive. This sense of cohesion was enhanced by killer coordinated but individualised outfits in the first set, and fantastic supporting visuals on an enormous screen by Mike Bridgman and Jamie Robertson. Our appetites have been well and truly whetted for the release of the Elemental album and next year’s tour.

But the critical ingredient that made this night one of the best gigs I’ve ever attended was the incredible vibes and sense of whanaungatanga. Barnaby Weir seems to have a talent for that elusive and vital skill of community building. It came through in the way the artists interacted on stage, the time taken to acknowledge the venue and recording equipment provided by Massey University, and the way we were invited to feel part of the album’s production.  

Multi-GRAMMY®-winning bassist, composer, arranger, and producer Marcus Miller has been called one of the most influential artists of our era. At the top of his game for over 40 years, he is consistently recognised as one of the greatest electric bassists of all time. Renowned for his legendary technique and feel in his fusion of jazz, funk, groove, and soul, he is also one of the most recorded artists in modern music. It was fitting then that he, as the top billing, opened this year’s Wellington Jazz Festival.

The full Opera House audience was fortunate to experience not just one, but five exceptionally talented musicians on stage. Miller may have been the star of the show with his sublime, at times simply breathtaking thumb-slapping skills up and down the guitar neck, but he also constantly praised his fellow musicians and introduced them at least three times throughout the night! 

From the funky opening track Panther, featuring soaring keyboards from Xavier Gordon and dynamically syncopated, rhythmic drumming from Anwar Marshall, we knew we were in for something special. With Miller’s funky bass and Donald Hayes’ dazzling, soaring notes on saxophone, Red Baron had the crowd mesmerised, clapping and cheering after every solo.  

Maputo was a dedication to saxophone great David Sanborn, who passed earlier this year – one of a multitude of artists Miller has collaborated with throughout his career. Miller is probably best known for his work (including three albums) with Miles Davis during the 1980s – Tutu and Mr Pastorius, tracks from which featured the expressively clean tones of Russell Gunn on trumpet. 

Miller told of his visit to an island off the coast of Senegal, which served as an outpost to slave trading, after which he wrote the poignant and desperately sad Gorée (Go-ray). With Miller playing a bass clarinet under soft deep-blue lighting, this slow melancholic ballad almost moved me to tears. 

A second standing ovation, after the encore Come Together, was no less than this spectacular band deserved. Superlative.

Walking through the doors of Circa Two having never met the famous Cythia Fortitude or Gertrude Rallentando before, I had no idea what to expect from Cynthia & Gertie Ride Again!. Little did I know, I was in for a rollicking good time.

The story follows Cynthia (Helen Moulder) as she prepares for her new opera The Marvellous Sandflies of Aotearoa. The show honours the late Rose Beauchamp, who played the other half of the dynamic duo. Even though Gertie isn’t physically there, her presence is felt throughout.

As Cythia rides into the theatre, it’s clear this is going to be a fun time. Her dotty, eccentric charm does not disappoint. With her wit and many failed attempts to navigate the modern world, she has the audience in stitches from start to finish.

The show is a real-life theatrical opera lesson with a comedic twist. Cynthia humorously educates us and even ropes us into becoming part of the performance, teaching us proper vocal technique and the correct pronunciation of ‘recitative’.

Audience participation is instrumental in this production. As members of the Island Bay Opera Guild, we take on memorable characters such as northern locals, ‘backing packers’, and even eunuch priests. The interaction is hysterical, and Moulder’s way with the audience makes the whole spectacle all the more entertaining.

I must also commend the lighting design. Deb McGuire and Gabriella Eaton’s work aligns perfectly with Cynthia’s very specific ideas and consistently sets the right mood, evoking the perfect emotions in every circumstance.

I never thought I’d find myself enjoying a performance about the plight of sandflies, but here we are. By the end, I’m surprisingly sympathetic to the often-swatted insect.

This is the most I’ve laughed all year. So, whizz down to Circa Theatre while you can and jump aboard the wild ride. You might just leave with newfound respect for Austrosimulium ungulatum. The Island Bay Opera Guild is waiting for you…

Before We Slip Beneath the Sea is a new immersive theatre experience from award-winning local playwright Cassandra Tse. As well as providing a topical and thought-provoking discussion of climate change responses, it’s helping fulfil her PhD requirements.

Set in the hyper-real environment of a village hall, with Aro Valley Community Centre doubling as St Rita’s Hall on the fictional island of Eglantyne, this cleverly structured play allows for the audience to participate as much or as little as they wish. Get fully involved in the narrative by chatting with cast members and eavesdropping on their conversations or sit in a plastic chair with a bikkie and a bottle of (alcohol-free) beer to take in the regular scripted segments that reiterate the key plot and relationship details you might have missed.

The seven featured island-dwellers, nicknamed ‘Eggies’, are a cross-section of Kiwis whose island lifestyle has been threatened by rising tides. The City Council has ordered the permanent evacuation of the island rather than try to mitigate the effects of climate change. It’s their last official night on Eglantyne and some island-dwellers have embraced the need to move on, while others want to stay in defiance of the order and lobby for sea defences that will allow them to live there another decade or two. It’s a straightforward but rewarding narrative that the ensemble cast – Charlie Potter, Hannah McKenzie Doornebosch, Ralph Johnson, Megan Connolly, Billie Deganutti, Helen Jones, and Craig Geenty – deliver in a natural and authentic way under the guidance of Tse’s unfussy direction.

Working in a non-traditional theatrical context means the tech is determined by what’s available. Lucas Neal’s production design leans into the community hall vibe using the in-place lighting, surreptitiously adding sound gear in the guise of a karaoke machine, and rearranging the tables and chairs as the plot advances.

Joining the Eggies in their fight to preserve their home is all the more impactful for tearing down the fourth wall and absorbing the audience into their emotive story. Whose side are you on?