AK09 review: The Wife Who Spoke Japanese in Her Sleep

Alison Quigan is in fine form as the frustrated housewife. Photo / Supplied

Auckland Theatre Company's festival offering is a delightfully surreal fable based on Vivienne Plumb's award-winning short story about a timid middle-aged housewife whose life is transformed when she inexplicably starts sleep-talking in a language she does not understand.

The theme of metamorphosis is brilliantly realised in John Parker's set design, which folds and unfolds like a piece of origami to reveal a succession of magical chambers and surprising vistas. The effect is intensified by Brad Gledhill's stunning lighting and projection effects that have Japanese calligraphy popping out of the wallpaper while whole rooms are enveloped by blossoming flowers or falling petals.

The visual feast is precisely enhanced by John Gibson's lively soundtrack, and the whole production design is carried off with such finesse and panache that the actors are often at risk of being upstaged.

Alison Quigan is in fine form as the frustrated housewife but her character becomes considerably less sympathetic as she crystallises into an imperious and vengeful oracle. By contrast the husband, played with flair by Bruce Phillips, first appears as an insensitive despot but emerges as a tragic figure who is ennobled by his passion for Kiwi-style gardening.

The contrasts are brought together in Peta Rutter's animated portrayal of a wildly deranged language teacher who has immersed herself in Japanese culture but cannot suppress an atavistic craving for Tim-Tams and Marmite on toast.

All the characters are presented as over-the-top stereotypes in a strategy that reflects the extreme stylisation of Japanese performance traditions and fits the surreal tone of the piece but fails to capture the dramatic potential of the story.

Many of the parodies teeter towards condescension and the ironical approach crowds out the comedy that might have emerged naturally from the examination of culture clash.

This was particularly apparent with the Asian characters, with a kooky Japanese student and a crass Chinese businesswoman struggling to get laughs from their crudely drawn stereotypes.

On the other hand John Campbell, who has never had a problem with self-parody, delivers a superb cameo on the perils of ratings anxiety.

The show's superb production values sit comfortably alongside the high-profile international works at the festival and the script is consistently enlivened by Vivienne Plumb's wonderfully poetic language.