Burn Her

Burn Her is a new political thriller from one of New Zealand’s young playwrights, Sam Brooks. It was written in 2016 and first performed in 2018. It is Circa Theatre’s headline production for August.

It’s a long play, so we decided to dine first at Capitol. As Wellington On A Plate is in full swing, we decided to have their Cocktail Wellington cocktail, Wild Fennel Fizz, which comes with a kahawai escabeche, as a starter. I then chose their festival dish, wild venison and tuatua pie. It was damn tasty. Nicola had the penne integrale.

We made it through the rain to Circa in the nick of time, collected our tickets, and headed up to row H. Normally we’re in row B or C at Circa, but this production has been selling phenomenally well. 6:30 came and went…and went…and went. After about 10 minutes, we figured that something was seriously wrong. Right on cue, the stage manager comes out and tells us that unfortunately, one of the principal actors has been taken ill and is unable to perform. This is New Zealand, not the West End, so there’s no understudy to seize their moment in the limelight. The SM is very apologetic, and tells us that if we wish to stay we can still take part in the Q&A that was scheduled to take place after the play with a Green Party MP, and either get a refund or reschedule for another night. We decided we didn’t need to hear a Green MP debate “ishoos”, so headed for the box office and rebooked for the following Thursday.  

The next week, we decided to follow the same plan, and booked Field & Green, renamed Campo & Verde for the duration of WOAP. Unfortunately, there had been a rail breakdown earlier in the day and, combined with a  crash on SH2, Wellington’s traffic had come to a virtual standstill. We finally made it into the city with barely 10 minutes before the play started, having called the restaurant to cancel our booking and heading straight to Circa.

Blimey! What a palaver! Right, let’s get to the play.

It’s election night, and the New Zealand Labour party have won an election but, more importantly, the newly-formed Aroha Party have also gained a single seat in the new parliament. Their MP, Aria Robson, is celebrating with former Labour backbencher Richard Miller, who joined Aroha but has failed to win a seat; and her PR, George, still too busy for a glass of bubbles with the party leader.

It’s getting late when intern Danny asks to speak to the leader. He drops a bombshell. What he says, and how he and said bombshell are subsequently treated, are the MacGuffin. George, as PR, takes upon herself some decisions which should come from Aria; and the consequences of those decisions form the heart of the play. George and Aria fight constantly, as George insists she is trying to do her job and protect both her MP and her party from the possible outcomes of Danny’s revelation. In the process, they also cover the “it’s different for girls” aspects, as, if the events had happened with different genders in the different roles, much of what they are trying to do wouldn’t be happening. But in an age of @metoo, should it matter whether it’s male or female?

Muddying the waters is George’s opposite number in the Labour Party, who is scheming and conniving her own way to get a different set of objectives, but involving George, and also a Stuff political reporter, in a twist to the plot.

It’s all very topical, and it’s interesting to note that this play was written before the current Labour government had reached power after the 2017 election. It sheds light on what really goes on in the back corridors of power, and is not without its comedic moments, but ultimately, it bears a lot of resemblance to the analogy of the sausage factory: people who like sausages really shouldn’t visit one to see how they’re made.

It was late when we emerged, so we crossed the road for a quick dinner at Hot Sauce, where I had their Festival dish. Then headed home through the miraculously clear streets.