Review: Lantern at The Basement

Li-Ming Hu and Andy Wong portray a multitude of characters in <i>Lantern</i>. Photo / Supplied

Chinese lanterns - with an inscrutable riddle written on the outside and a flickering flame within - are the central metaphor in Renee Liang's intimate journey through the fractured domestic life of a New Zealand Chinese family.

With two actors taking on multiple roles, a convoluted family history, stretching back to the Japanese occupation of China, is untangled in an elegantly poetic montage.

Recollections of schoolyard teasing and the suffocating demands of parental expectations are juxtaposed with the haunting wartime image of a dying mother breastfeeding a child and sharply observed domestic details - like the father who works through the night with a hairdryer to achieve the perfectly crisp texture on the skin of his roast duck.

The free-floating images gradually coalesce to tell the story of a disintegrating marriage. The father is devoted to classical Chinese culture but disappointed to find that an educated man should have to spend his days cutting broccoli, and the mother is worn down by the obligations of a fiercely competitive community.

The New Zealand-born children of this marriage are thoroughly immersed in Kiwi culture but frustrated that they are not allowed to feel they truly belong to the country they were born in.

The obstacles to inclusion come in the form of some crudely drawn stereotypes - a discreetly racist cop, a pushy Christian door-knocker and a checkout operator who has an irritating obsession with oriental exoticism - but the children's protest against this sense of exclusion is heartfelt and moving.

In taking on a dizzying succession of roles, Li-Ming Hu maintains a delicate command of emotion and unflappable poise - whether she is brushing off an over enthusiastic internet date or putting on the exaggerated mannerism of a Chinese tourist.

Andy Wong gives a nicely understated performance as the ironic New Zealand-born student but seems less comfortable as he takes on the sterner emotions of the older generation.

Playwright Renee Liang effectively reveals the internal emotions of her characters and shows a strong command of poetic imagery, but the intimate domestic drama often lacks intensity and the fragmented narrative has a literary quality that did not translate well to the stage.

However, she is clearly a talent to watch and The Edge's Stamp programme is doing a fine job in giving a much-needed showcase to emerging writers and performers.