Critical Corner: Hyperspace outshines its soul

In the first edition of Critical Corner, a review of Auckland Theatre Company's Hyperspace, a round-up of things I've consumed, links from the week, and self-promo.

Is there any bit of media that screams, “It’s 1990!” more than ‘Ice Ice Baby’? Maybe ‘U Can’t Touch This’? Appropriately, Hyperspace, presented by Auckland Theatre Company and Te Pou Theatre, features both prominently. This new play by Albert Belz revolves around, of all things, the New Zealand Aerobics Championships. 

Small-town girl Natalie Te Rehua (Te Ao o Hinepehinga) is trying to become a full-time teacher, but teaches aerobics on the side. When a technicality excludes her from the solo category at the competition, she is forced to team up with Haka queen Tāwhai Pātai (Kruze Tangira). Between them, they develop a new style that the competition will have never seen before: Haka-fusion. It sounds like a silly sports film but, as with most of Belz’s plays, there is a darker side. 

The production, directed by Tainui Tukiwaho and choreographed by Jack Gray, leans into the flash. All of this world is a stage, and we’re never allowed to forget that yes, this is going to be the backdrop to the New Zealand Aerobics Championships. It gives the production an anticipatory feel – we know where the play is going from the start, and we often want it to get there. It means that every flash of choreography, every dance sequence, is a taste of what’s to come.

It does, however, mean that some of the deeper relationships that Belz is seeding feel like slack points. It’s a shame, because the characters are well-drawn, as are the relationships. They just are, understandably, not as exciting as the aerobics. Additionally, Belz’s script does one of the things that pulls an audience out of period pieces – and yes, Hyperspace is set in 1990, so it makes it as much of a period piece as Grease was back in 1978 – which is that the characters drop references less like characters in 1990, and more like someone with access to the internet in 2024. When characters rattle off extremely specific facts, like an obscure award that Baywatch actress Nicole Eggert won, the characters stop inhabiting the world and start pointing at it instead. In a script that otherwise has such a strong sense of character, and even place, it’s the one thing that jars.

At its core, however, this is still a production that is slightly at odds with the script. When the script is soaring, it captures the very real, and palpable, feeling of being a makeshift whanau in a competitive, high-stress environment, without the resources to properly engage in that competition. It’s gritty, it’s lively, and most importantly, the characters are funny in a way that people in real life are.

However, the production is at its best when the ensemble is allowed to perform. Their moves alongside Filament 11’s excellent design, are effervescent, overwhelming and eye blindingly bright. There’s not a dud among the ensemble (Edward Clendon, Josh Harriman, Pamela Sidhu, Anna-Maree Thomas, Te Ohorere Williams, Haami Aukuso Chen-Found Salmanzadeh, Myra Mei-Clarke, Paku Fernandez, Makanihi Tohu, Mia Van Oyen), and seeing them perform too often makes you wish this was the entire show. 

There’s obviously an intentional tension here: an audience wants to eat the hot dog, not see how the sausage is made, and definitely not know all the blood, sweat and tears that went into making it. And often, to stretch this metaphor, the sausage is made by people who do not have the energy, the space, or the resources to do it to the height of their abilities. We ask performers, and often performers of colour, to put themselves on the line but we don’t want to know what they have to do to get there. Belz’s script plays on that, but the production doesn’t feel quite sure on how to resolve, or address, that tension.

As Hyperspace reaches a conclusion that feels inevitable – I was reminded, not badly, of Sydney Pollack’s excellent They Shoot Horses Don’t They? – it jolts between moments of breathless high energy and moments of quiet pain that undercut that. The production is equipped to handle, but the latter feels forced in a way that it really shouldn’t. The cast, especially Kruze Tangira, do their best, but the quiet moments are drowned out when they could be highlighted. The play demands a tonal shift, but it doesn’t yet feel earned.

Hyperspace is a fun time, for the most part. If you want to have “Pump Up The Jam” stuck in your head for days afterwards, you’ll probably love it. If the words “Miami Wine Cooler” mean anything to you, you'll likely feel a gravitational pull towards it. If you look really hard, and listen even harder, perhaps, you’ll see a pretty pointed indictment of entertainment, and what we expect people to go to to provide that entertainment. Underneath the glitz, the glamour, and the flash, that’s still there.

Hyperspace runs until February 24 at the ASB Waterfront Theatre. You can book tickets here.

Other Things I've Consumed

• I reread Michael Cunningham's By Nightfall as research for something I'm writing, and while I deeply enjoyed it upon release in 2009, it felt bizarrely flat rereading it. Cunningham has a brilliant facility for shining a light on the inner lives of normal people, who might be seen as boring and unsympathetic from the outside, but he has an uncharacteristic lack of empathy here. It borders on satire more than it does on comedy, and he's always been funniest (like most of us!) when he loves who he makes fun of.
• I rewatched the NT Live version of Yerma (which is available with an National Theatre Live subscription!) again, as research, and it remains one of the best plays I've ever seen staged. Although the play is, on the surface, about a woman trying to get pregnant, it's really about the corrosive and destructive nature of need.
• Lontalius, one of my fave New Zealand artists, is bringing out tracks from the vault. My favourite is "Dreams in His Head", which feels like the inside of my 17 year old brain in the best possible way.
• I have started watching season 21 of Family Guy. One episode involves Lois going to hypnotist because Peter won't go down on her, and his trigger phrase ends up being the theme song to Entertainment Tonight. Unfortunately, they go to her parents house, where her mother ends up watching Entertainment Tonight. I feel better having shared that with the world, but I'm not sure anybody will feel better after reading it.

Weekly Round-Up

• In case you missed yesterday's post: the Minister for Arts, Culture and Heritage Paul Goldsmith introduced himself to the sector. It was unilluminating.
• An excellent conversation between Gus Van Sant and Matt Zoller Seitz in Vulture on the former's work on Feud: Capote vs The Swans. I am generally allergic to Ryan Murphy's output, but Gus Van Sant being involved (plus this cast) is a definite appeal.
• It's a week old now, but this essay from Rebecca K. Reilly on her fight to not Americanise her (tremendous, extremely recommendable) novel Greta and Valdin is a doozy.
• I hate to out myself as a bit basic on my second post, but I do enjoy a McSweeney from time to time, and Talia Argondezzi's piece entitled "You Should Give Me a Compliment Because I'll Take It Really Well" made me chuckle this morning.

Self-Promo

If you're in New Zealand, I have two shows on this February, and I'm doing a little bit in another. They are:

• Lads on the Island, written by me and directed by the legend Nī Dekkers-Reihana, starring Reon Bell, Finley Hughes and Bronwyn Ensor, on at Circa Theatre until March 2. Ariel and Prospero are just a couple of lads. A couple of lads bound to one another – on an island of their own enchanting. The reviews for this one have been great – "on every level this utterly delivers", "an exceptional production of a literally extra-ordinary play", and "a constantly surprising and charming work of art" – so if you're in Wellington until then, check it out. Earnestly? I could not be prouder of this work.
• The Perfect Image, written and directed by me, starring Sean Rivera, Michael Hockey, Mark Chayanat Whittet and Amelia Rose Reynolds, on at Lot23 from February 20 until February 24. It is a queer romcom about a stock image photo company with a difference: diversifying the stock image market by including models of colour. This is a part of Auckland Pride, I am also directing it, and I really, really hope you'll come see it!
• First Trimester, on at Basement Theatre from February 15 until February 18. This is the Aotearoa premiere of durational experience, fresh from a world premiere in London, It invites the audience to witness intimate live interviews between theatremaker Krishna Istha and participants, in a quest to find them and their partner a sperm donor, or at least discover the qualities that bring them closer to their perfect match. I've signed up to be one of the interviewees on Thursday's show, I'm really stoked about it, and plan to include it in my first (paid!) post on Saturday.

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