Live Through This

Circa Theatre is back in a limited way whilst we’re still (STILL!) in Covid Alert level 2. Why are we in Level 2? Because the stupid government can’t sort itself out. They’re only now thinking about saliva tests and Covid passports…why weren’t they planning ahead and thinking of this 6 months ago? Idiots. Anyway, that's why I haven't blogged much recently...there's not been much happening.

As always, dinner first. We were on a bit of a tight schedule so we headed for old faves Field & Green, as they’re conveniently close to Circa. As it was, we ended with loads of time to spare as Nicola’s last job of the afternoon didn’t take very long. We parked Hollywood-fashion and were there in plenty of time, to have kingfish and salmon dishes, followed by F&G’s home-made ice cream, which is one of the reasons we go there!

Then across the road in the rain, and into Circa. Tonight’s show, Live Through This, is in fact two separate one-person shows, not really interlinked, offering two different personal points of view of life in Wellington. The first, performed by Jonny Potts, is entitled The Best Show In Town Is At Your Place Every Night. Phew! No wonder they included it in a much shorter-titled duet. Jonny appears, dancing to Ben Lee’s Hard Drive, and then As Time Goes By, before starting off on his monologue/travelogue, in which he remembers the days of the video store on every high street. As the programme notes mention, the video store came and went in one generation…it was both preceded and outlived by its closest relatives, the book store and the record store. He takes us on a tour of Wellington’s suburbs, and describes the nature and character of the video stores to be found in each…except Hataitai. There’s no video store in Hataitai, because they’re all too busy having sex. Whilst some suburbs boast a 24-hour video store, Hataitai has a 24-hour bakery, for all those hungry shaggers. During his journey, he references an unnamed partner, and they end up sharing a cask of wine in a park in Newtown. Ultimately, it’s a wistful, nostalgic look at his mis-spent youth.

The next look at someone’s past is somewhat darker. After the interval, the set has changed from Video Store: Interior to Astrology Shop. The second monologue is a personal history of death: how Jean Sergent, the protagonist, suffered the loss of both her flatmate and cousin, followed by her younger brother, in the same year, when she was in her early twenties; and the effect that these two deaths had on her. In it she provides us with Top Tips For Losing Your Brother, consults various New Age therapists, reads her tarot, and ultimately delivers her own eulogy.

Both of these performances had been at BATS Theatre, as standalone shows, during last year’s Fringe Festival. Does bringing them together add anything to the whole? Possibly, as one may be seen as too lightweight without the counterweight of the darker second half, which would also seem too brooding and downbeat without the preceding half. Get me, practising for Pseud’s Corner here!