We’re not supposed to go to the theatre on Thursdays now – Thursday
night is dancing night. But I’d booked Mrs. Krishnan’s Party months ago, before
dancing at Two Right Feet was even a twinkle in my eye…so we had to miss
dancing. Mrs. Krishnan’s Party is a sequel to Krishnan’s Dairy, which was the
first production of Indian Ink 20 years ago. We’ve not seen that, but we have
seen The Pickle King, another of their productions, and enjoyed it. So when
another play was announced I naturally bought tickets straight away.
The show wasn’t until 8 o’clock, so, decadent sybarites that
we are, we went for cocktails at CGR Merchant before dinner. Nicola had an “Isn’t She Lovely” and I had a cinnamon-infused martini, whose name escapes me. We
then went for a curry at Great India, Wellington’s premier Indian restaurant,
where we enjoyed the food but were disappointed by the service: when we arrived
they asked us whether we needed to be out by a certain time, and we said yes,
by 7:45, to catch our show. No problem, and at least three waiters confirmed
this to us as they seated us, took our drinks order, and food order. Given
that, as the clock ticked inexorably on to 7:35, we began to feel a bit anxious
and called one of the waiters over, to find out what was happening. The food
arrived seconds later, but, having gone to so much trouble, you’d think they
might have informed the kitchen. Or something. Anyway, we had to rather bolt
our dinner, then hurry up the road to Te Auaha, a new venue on Dixon Street that
is part of Whitirea and WelTec.
As we entered the venue, we were seated by DJ Jimmy James,
in full headdress and Indian party costume. We were seated in the “cheeky seats”
i.e. barstools just beyond the inner circle.
Before the show began, James noted that, despite the advice
in the email sent a few days ago to ticket-holders, very few people had come in
Indian party garb. To correct this, he co-opted various members of the audience
to distribute coloured scarves and garlands to everyone. Once he was satisfied
with the audience, the show could start.
Onam is the Hindu harvest festival, and is full of music,
dancing, food and general merrymaking. James, a student, is Mrs. Krishnan's lodger, and has
decided to organise a surprise Onam party for his landlady. To this end, he has
invited us to his party, and he briefs us on how he’s going to spring the
surprise on Mrs. Krishnan. When he does so she is understandably shocked, horrified
even, and initially tries to get rid of us. But, as James had predicted, she is
eventually mollified and, as her guests, starts to cook a dhal to help us
celebrate Onam. Yes, they do actually do live cookery on stage, with a little help
from some audience members. This is a hands-on, audience-involvement event, and
Mrs. Krishnan isn’t beyond a little sly matchmaking! As the play progresses,
the history of Onam is acted out by Mrs. Krishnan, and we find out more about
her history, and also that of James.
At the end of the play, the dhal is served to the audience
so that they can join in the celebration. It’s all good clean fun, and you
should go and see it if you get the chance!
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