What a place, and now here we all were again, ready to watch the latest offering from this most wonderful, creative, supportive theatre space.
I began writing this review as soon as I got home from the theatre. After a couple of hours, I decided I needed processing time and left it for the morning.
For the past 40 years, I have worked in the field of counselling and social work. Sexual abuse of children can destroy lives and has the potential to leave its mark for generations.
In my experience, healing comes from being believed, loved, supported, and having a therapist you feel safe with. Kindness.
In this story, the victim is now an adult and doesn’t make it. The play deals with the effects of suicide on a family and the community they come from.
The playwright has tackled an incredibly important and sensitive topic. It’s a lot to take on in a short amount of time, and I take issue with some of the playwright’s decisions, but the real point of this story, for me, is how community and family can pull through together.
The majority of this play brims over with the most superb singing (musical director Helen Walker, Di Jeromsen, Nicola Harrison and Pip Purchase), depictions of everyday life and humour.
When the audience isn’t lost in the magic of those voices, they’re laughing at the often outrageous one-liners which are scatter-shot around the wonderful old community hall (love the set), or recognising themselves in the characters on stage.
Usually, when I write a review, I am at pains to mention by name all involved, but I’m not going to this time. This cast works as a cohesive whole, each character fulfilling a role in the ultimate healing outcome.
This is what I loved. I loved that music takes a central role. A dream cast. The voices of angels. Group singing is a scientifically proven wellbeing enhancer, a mental wellbeing hero.
I loved that it was set in a small town in an old hall. Relatable. Real people dealing in their own ways with real pain, but in the end, it was the power of the group that found a way through. Their love for each other - the wisdom of relationships where each person is forgiven for the masks they wear. That beneath the all-important humour was trust. Trust you could talk, trust you would be heard, trust you would be accepted, and trust you would be believed and the broken bits would be restored.
I didn’t come away from this play overcome with feelings of sadness, I came away with hope and optimism. We can watch the headlines or we can find all the good that there is in the people who surround us. Our community.
Hats off to Lindsay Bishop for finding the play and seeing its importance, hats off to the committee for taking the risk, hats off to the lighting and sound (realistic and atmospheric) crews, with special mention to the college students. They are our future. Hats off to the front and backstage crews, to the supporters, to the advertisers. It takes a village, but mainly, hats off to the cast for putting heart and soul and voice into this important piece.
One last thought. Ninety per cent of healing from trauma comes through kindness.
The Heartbreak Choir: Waipukurau Little Theatre, Thursday August 17 - Saturday, August 26.
Tickets: www.littletheatre.net.nz, Eventfinda or Betta Electrical Waipukurau.
Warning: Contains mature themes and references to abuse and suicide.