Lent
Written by Michael Wilcox
Directed by Carl Terry
Foxton Little Theatre
Until August 21
Reviewed by Damian Thorne
Opening night coincides with my birthday and the stupendous occasion is easily escaped by travelling the 32km to Foxton. Travelling has become the thing one must do to see a play written by an international author, performed by a theatre society with ambition on display just by the titles they choose to stage.
I would much rather watch a well-written play by a proven overseas entity than something by a New Zealand author past their best, or one who isn't necessarily a good writer but who gets performed to fill some sort of invisible quota.
Lent, the very British semi-autobiographical play by Michael Wilcox, gets off to a poor start by seating the reviewer at the back of the theatre, adjacent to the fire exit, and then literally an Olympic-style false start, as the cast hiccups the first scene and basically decides to, wisely, start over.
Staged by director Carl Terry on an awkward split set-up, with a tab (curtain) taking out half the Foxton stage's depth, there are moments I worry for a particular actor, as a door, which could have easily opened outward, swings precariously inward nearly knocking her from her seat. From my seat I cannot see stage left, and the set is not left open for us to look at during the interval.