Drama based on Frame work reflects on the feelings and impressions inspired by the novel

It's a true ensemble piece, the whole cast with snap timing and movement such that they're often working as a single unit. Photo / Supplied

The Details
What: Red Leap Theatre production of Owls Do Cry. Directed by Malia Johnston
When: October 26 to 28, 7.30pm.
Where: The Meteor Theatre, Hamilton
Tickets: themeteor.co.nz/

Reviewed by Ross MacLeod

Being completely unfamiliar with the Janet Frame novel this work is based on, I went into this production not knowing what to expect.

I needn't have worried. I'm pretty sure no one in the audience was exactly anticipating what followed: a 90-minute rollercoaster through a dreamscape of light, sound, poetry and motion. I've credited casts with being energetic before, but there were times here when I was exhausted by proxy.

But it's not relentless. Like a well-made rollercoaster, it has crests and troughs, letting the most intense moments breathe with lulls of stillness and comedy.

The work is intended to reflect on the feelings and impressions inspired by the novel rather than following any linear narrative. That said, there's plenty of exploration of the prose, exploring its lyrical metaphors and characters. I'm sure those familiar with the novel will connect with these moments but, because it's such an emotion-based work, you don't need to have read a word of it to find it relatable.

While being a totally different piece of work, the show respects the text, though not always the hard-copy books themselves, itself a commentary on where the importance of a work lies.

A couple of sections even parody this, the dusty style of high school literary study put in sharp contrast with the raw emotion of a work.

From the outset of an uncanny valley tableau, this is a booming multimedia work, The back wall is flooded with projection, often cleverly woven into the action on stage.
Soundscapes abound, sometimes through speakers, sometimes crafted live.

Everything from the travel cases, the suspended microphones, the sweaters, to the many, many books, all become integrated into the action in a way that always seems fresh.

It's a true ensemble piece, the whole cast with snap timing and movement such that they're often working as a single unit, occasionally quite literally. If I had to tap performance highlights, I'd have to give them to Ross McCormack's blokey "but seriously" monologue, Arlo Gibson's wonderfully gormless physicality, and Hannah Lynch's powerful and passionate vocal performance.

If you're looking for a more grounded, slice-of-life production then this might not be for you. But if you're looking for a unique theatrical experience, this is a must see.

If you've ever done an activity for far too long and then had it weave through your dreams, then this is the live-performance equivalent. Don't try to make sense of it or overthink the moment too much. Just dive into the stream of consciousness and let the wild currents take you where they may.