The Sons of Charlie Paora at the Royal Court, London

By STUART YOUNG

After two seasons at Auckland's Herald Theatre and an appearance at the Taranaki Arts Festival, Massive Company's The Sons of Charlie Paora has travelled to Britain for a short season at London's Royal Court, famous as the fount of modern British playwriting, and then goes to Manchester's Contact Theatre.

The trip to the Court is thanks to the reputation of the play's writer, Lennie James, better known as a film and television actor (Cold Feet). The season at the Court coincides with the popularity of verbatim theatre, which creates dramatic material from taped interviews. James wove Charlie Paora from the stories of members of the company.

Having been excluded from the funeral, five former players from a school rugby team gather in a Mangere garage for a wake for their coach. They are eventually joined by Charlie's children. His son, Sonny, especially is resentful of the attention his father gave to the team. Meanwhile, appropriately, given the play's focus on masculine experience, Sarah struggles for space to articulate her own loss, and it falls to her to pronounce the play's message about the boys' failure to mature into the men they have ostensibly become.

Bryan Caldwell's lighting enhances the production, but Tracey Collins' set, which divides the stage into two spaces - inside and outside Ezra's garage - worked better on the Herald's wide, shallow stage than it does on the Court's, which is deep and narrow. There are problems with sightlines, which judicious reblocking should have rectified. Despite the proportions of the stage and the size of the auditorium, the production achieves a greater intimacy at the Court. Nevertheless, the technical limitations - principally vocal - of some of the actors are exposed. What the actors lack in technique, they amply compensate for with their integrity and commitment, and they impress with their strong sense of ensemble.

Indeed, the production trades on the performers' naive charm and vigour. James' name may have brought the show to London and procured it helpful publicity, but the writing is not the strength of Charlie Paora. The play processes the individual stories, but it does not develop the characters' relationships adequately or weave an interesting drama out of those stories.

It presents a series of clashes but the tensions that produce them are not always clearly explained. Only the central conflict, between Ezra and Sonny, truly ignites, and this takes too long to happen. Given the sustained life of the production, it is a shame that the play has not been revised and edited. There are also problems with pace in both the writing and performance, with some emotionally charged moments heavily overstated.

Notwithstanding the longueurs, the production keeps its audience thoroughly absorbed and succeeds in packing a strong emotional punch at the end, with its message of redemption and forgiveness. Its profound humanity is exemplified above all in Fomai Taito's tender Semo.

The performance I saw was extremely warmly received. The audience was amused by the boxes of Lion Red and greatly impressed by the set pieces of physical movement: the haka, the try-scoring sequence and, above all, the Candy Girl routine.

A large number of people stayed on for an hour's discussion with the director, Sam Scott, and the cast. Questions and comments revealed not only the production's powerful resonance for expatriate New Zealanders but also the extent to which this story of Polynesian South Auckland intrigues and speaks to spectators from other cultures. Meanwhile, the London critics have been less impressed by the play, which some have found disjointed and rather hackneyed, than by the verve of the performances.

* Charlie Paora plays in Mangere in May.