The End of the Golden Weather at Herald Theatre

Stephen Lovatt

Since its first performance in 1951, The End of the Golden Weather has achieved iconic status and Stephen Lovatt's revival demonstrates that the accolades are well deserved.

The play opens with a description of Takapuna Beach unlike anything else in New Zealand theatre. The intense lyricism is immediately striking, but what makes the play so distinctive is the weird alchemy by which Bruce Mason uses fantastically ornate language to express the point of view of a 12-year-old.

Gliding effortlessly between flights of poetic fancy and the blunt language of everyday speech, Mason blends the memories of a highly literate adult with the naive enthusiasms of the child he once was. The minutely observed fragments coalesce to create the impression of an entire world, while the underlying narrative sings of the transition from innocence to experience.

The play takes us into the New Zealand of the 1930s and reminds us that the past is a strange land. Mason's vivid recollection of the local cop facing down a mob of hungry unemployed gives an insight into a world completely beyond the experience of our own times.

Equally disconcerting is the vision of life before television - an era when children were able to develop a wildly imaginative response to their environment. When climbing the steps leading up from the beach could be conceived as entering the giant's domain and in the aftermath of a Christmas Eve sermon a child might imagine that the pillowslip hanging at the end of his bed will soon conceive and bring forth life.

I have not seen any of Mason's legendary performances of this one-man show but such comparisons are seldom instructive and Stephen Lovatt certainly makes the part his own. The changes of voice are skilfully handled and he shows great energy and verve in the more physical moments - while enacting a sibling wrestling match Lovatt somehow manages to simultaneously represent both of the tussling brothers and the authoritative intervention of the father.

I felt the characterisation of some minor characters was too intense. The local policeman comes across as a barking maniac when a more laconic voice might have suited Mason's wry humour.

But Lovatt shines in the quieter moments - voicing the confidential exchanges between siblings or expressing Firpo's fear of laughter and his pathological need for approval.

It is a sign of the growing maturity of the New Zealand theatre scene that 2006 has seen a number of companies exploring home-grown classics. The End of the Golden Weather stands as both an inspiration and a challenge to the new generation of playwrights.