Disclaimer: this article was written by a law student (cringe).
Last Saturday night saw the return of the annual Law Revue, hosted in the first year law school chapel that is Castle 1. The theme: High (Law) School Musical. Critic Te Ārohi took one for the team and put their Saturday night in the hands of law students’ version of entertainment. What could go wrong?
According to Christian, this year’s Law Revue director, the show has become something of a “tradition.” When asked how it compares with Med Revue and Capping Show, Christian explained that “law jokes distinguish it.” Go figure. Meanwhile, choreographer Lokyee said Law Revue was “less effort and higher reward.” Critic Te Ārohi hopes that philosophy is also working out for law students’ studies.
Going in, there were mixed expectations. Second year law student Chris told Critic Te Ārohi that he’s a law student, so was naturally “obligated” to go. Amongst the law students who had no shame in saying they were law students were a smattering of (you guessed it) med students. Becca was cautiously optimistic, saying, “I like High School Musical, so why not Law School Musical?” Meanwhile, Lucy was slightly more pessimistic, saying “High School Musical isn’t even a proper musical.” Roasted. When asked what expectations audience member Jack had, he responded saying “none,” before hastily adding, “in the best way possible.” Indeed, having low or (in Jack’s case, no) expectations lowers the chance of disappointment. Much like sending your kid to law school.
The main storyline followed a law school romance, complete with crippling anxiety, back stabbings and the special type of entitlement only law students have. However, as with all revues, the main plot was secondary to the skits. The show set the tone with a sombre acknowledgement of the passing of her majesty Queen Elizabeth II, “mother to multiple paedophiles.” Some of the skits incorporated law references into classic hits, such as the “House of Lords'' reciting the lyrics of “Royals” verbatim, and “Roe Roe Roe vs Wade.” Other, more niche, skits made fun of teaching staff, such as an impersonation of a professor, and the vanquishing of “T-Rex Ahdar - the homphobic dinosaur” with a rainbow flag. But in the end, Critic Te Ārohi came away remembering “boobs haha” as one of the most memorable jokes.
Law Revue walked the line between funny and marginal on more than a few occasions. One such skit involved a play on words of “due date” to “Jew date” but in reality was more of a play on antisemitism. Another skit implied Polytech students have the right to park in “disabled parking.”
Christian told Critic Te Ārohi that they had “less time and resources [this year],” but, “made it work with what they had”. If they had one thing, it was weekly flat parties as a major incentive for cast members signing up. “[The] best skit ideas come with a wee bit of alcohol,” said cast member Seth, which is also how this magazine is made.
The director of Med Revue, who happened to be there at the time, gave Critic Te Ārohi her hot take, saying there has been a “lack of incoming talent” across all the revues this year. This could be due in part to our ol’ mate Covid, or maybe the students with stage talent this year decided they would actually enjoy their life and pursue their passions. For the rest of us, we’ll keep living for those annual law school productions to give our life meaning.
In the end, it isn’t about the quality of the show but the friends you make along the way (or something like that). “The audience laughed and that’s what matters,” said Becca.