Claire Mabey reviews ‘a very Wellington comedy about love, war and who rules the road’ – inspired by an article on The Spinoff.
Those who know me well might question the logic of deploying me to review a show called Give Way The Musical given I am not well educated in either road rules or musicals (my favourite is Jesus Christ Superstar the TV version; and my understanding of give way rules is vibes based at best).
And yet, there I was in Circa Theatre eager to understand how this “very Wellington comedy about love, war and who rules the road” was going to work. First of all, Circa Theatre is sort of flash now. I walked in the door as if onto the set of Stars in Their Eyes: dry ice billowed around the foyer, giving the new cafe called Chouchou the hazy air of a 90s soap opera. Circa’s formerly 70s-era cafe has been transformed into a dream of pink neon and tidy pastries and $7 lemon, lime and bitters. I half expected Carrie Bradshaw to toddle up and order a Cosmopolitan before heading into the theatre for some legislative hijinks.
I sat in my theatre comfort zone – right up the back, where I can get a full view of the stage set which, on this night, was both arresting and funny. Road cones demarcated the stage area while a cluster of traffic lights hung above, a chandelier fit for the foyer of the Ministry of Transport building. Panels hugged the circumference of the stage and were printed with images from road rules tests (which I found triggering given I failed my licence not once, not twice, but thrice).
At first I thought the audience was going to be sparse (many empty seats) and I pre-cringed, imagining a smattering of forced laughter as the energy of the cast far overpowered the energy of the audience. But then, in the nick of time, a flood of students tumbled in and took their seats all around me. The volume of the theatre immediately rose and I was able to relax.
The show started with a bang. Or rather, a banger. The cast burst onto the stage with a five-part harmony, a give way sign and a tune that indicated that this was a musical that was going to enjoy leaning hard into the power ballad. We’re introduced to Sophie (played by Lily Tyler Moore), a 24-year-old policy analyst at the Ministry of Transport who is disenchanted with her lack of influence and busting to make her mark. Sophie’s uncouth ambition is the engine of the show: she’s a caricature of the pre-burnout, millennial hardout; the type-A student in need of therapy to unravel the influence of her 70s-core parents (amazing cameo scenes with those two in kaftans and on the wines, lamenting their daughter’s career choices and personality flaws) who has emerged from the raw freedom of student days and marched into the workforce as a determined kiss-arse earnestly trying to implement a legacy project before she moves on to bigger, better policy jobs.
Tyler Moore is perfect in the role: small but mighty; her tremendous effective facial expressions conveying Sophie’s unhinged commitment to work over all else. Her best and funniest scenes reveal her loathsome inner fantasies: in one surreal moment she dances with a pair of Count Dracula-like incarnations of the Minister for Transport (who was Gerry Brownlee in 2012) that dance in capes and top hats and sweep her into slow dances that end in an unsettling air-pashing sequence.
For me, the star of the show is Ben: Sophie’s nerdy colleague and doomed love interest, played by Jackson Burling. This is a show that plays into stereotypes to make its points and it works. Ben is happily complacent in his work and instead focuses his energies on being romantically optimistic: his camp tantrums and Flight-of-the-Conchord-esque fails provoke much of the show’s regular laughs.
With its core of office comedy, Give Way is a gentle pisstake of those whose working lives are dedicated to manipulating niche interest areas to improve our lives no matter how inconsequential to the vast majority; or alarming to a vocal minority. Steven Page (writer) obviously had a gleeful time using the machinations of 2012’s change to the give way rules (intricately reported by Toby Manhire in The Spinoff) to foreshadow the events that came 10 years later, in 2022 (the same year as Manhire’s article was published), when a Covid-plagued government implemented vaccination rules and brought down upon them the ire of the anti-mandate convoy that camped out on parliament’s lawn.
In Give Way, the vocal minority is represented by Nick (played by the magnificent Bronwyn Turei) who can’t cope with change and who sees any attempt to update our lives as a betrayal of the country, of our Kiwi ways. In response to Sophie’s proposed changes, Nick rouses a rabble, plants viral videos titled “alien child traffickers are melting our brains” online (to which Sophie reacts: “why is nobody looking at the research!”) and plans a convoy to protest the changes that he’s convinced will lead to chaos and death.
At half time (which arrived fast: a good sign) I talked to some of the students sitting around me to check what they thought of the show so far.
Quinn, who is second-year at Victoria University studying English literature as his major (*teary eyes emoji*) and politics as a minor said he thought the range of the actors was incredible. “Not just their vocals but their physicality – how they can switch so fast. It takes a lot out of you just playing one role, let alone several.” Quinn was six years old when the give way rules changed so found that aspect super interesting. “I’ve had to google who the minister was and what the road rules were before.”
Students from Whangamata Area School (visiting Wellington to tour parliament and Te Papa) were enthusiastic. “I’m enjoying all of it!” said Ethan. “It’s really good. I like the stage and the piano,” said Josh. “I like Randall,” said Eric. “He’s better than everyone else.” It was Krishna’s first time seeing a live show, and a musical, and he loved it. “The way the songs are written flow so seamlessly into the script,” he observed. And Lachie thought the humour was properly funny.
I agree with all of them. Particularly Quinn’s observation about the actors’ range: the character and costume changes were so fast I found myself imagining just how they did it. Layers? Backstage help? And Ethan is bang on about the live music. Pianist (and musical director for the show) Hayden Taylor is on stage the entire time, tinkling the ivories and adding a welcome self awareness. The live pianist – like the character’s personal musician and life-event composer – heightens the main character syndrome that Sophie, Nick and to a lesser degree, Tanya (played by Carrie Green who is superb in all her roles) suffer from.
Randall (played by Alex Greig), as Eric indicated, is an intriguing character. He’s an older man, a former public servant who suffered for his efforts to change the road rules back in the 70s. We first encounter him in a medical institution being treated for hallucinations (it’s thanks to Randall we get dance scenes with panda and sloth heads). Randall is a wise fool; a Shakespearean apparition there to both inject whimsy and counsel Sophie. While not the strongest singer (perhaps on purpose – a weaker voice reflects his vulnerable state of mind and body) I can see why the students liked him. He’s a kooky counterpart to youthful optimism: a been there, done that sage whose point of view gives the show an off-kilter perspective that is both surprising and bittersweet.
All in all, Give Way the Musical is a jolly good time. It’s rare to see an original New Zealand musical which means it’s rare to hear our lovely New Zealand accents singing about New Zealand stuff. As it happens, Give Way is one of two original New Zealand musicals playing in Wellington at the moment: down the road at Te Auaha, Amy Mansfield’s I did not invite you here to lecture me is bringing the house down with its university-based comedy.
If this convergence signals the start of a homegrown musical renaissance, I’m here for it.
Give Way the Musical (written by Steven Page) is playing at Circa Theatre until May 24. Information and tickets are online at Circa Theatre.
