Warning: Semi-spoilers for Capping Show included.
Critic Te Ārohi braved the rain and headed along to the opening of this year’s Capping Show, dressed to the nines (in our old hall merch – opening night was fresher-themed) and ready for a hilarious night.
The overarching story of the night – ‘How To Train Your Fresher’ – was a little confusing and unfortunately fell into the classic Capping Show conundrum of a resolution happening in the last 30 seconds. No one Critic spoke to after the show seemed to know quite what was going on – though it could also have been due to the bombardment of singing that the audience faced as they tried to leave the College of Education Auditorium. That’s what happens when you put theatre kids in a room together.
Alongside the main storyline were a range of skits, some of which definitely had us in stitches. Some faves include Western Shooters, the Mermaid bit, Peanut Butter (IYKYK), and Campus Watch (which we’d love a link to xoxo). We got a real hoot out of ‘Penis!’, which actually prompted us to start our own Penis game during a gap between skits. Like an all-boys Year 9 assembly, the whole crowd joined in, which really enhanced the whole experience. Big shout out to the videography! It was fantastic, with some shots feeling professional and leaving us wondering if we were watching an excerpt from an actual movie (aside from the sometimes dark, grainy projection; a minor technical issue).
The Selwyn Ballet was fucking crack-up and a definite highlight. The washed-out lighting really emphasised their Fresher prepubescence, and we were genuinely impressed that they managed to stay composed the entire time and remember all the steps (more or less). “Are they a box deep?,” we murmured, watching them jolt around like Barbies being played with by a violent 6-year-old. There were aerials, leaps, and plenty of star quality; and Selwyn did brilliantly in the upkeep of a classic tradition. Bravo.
Unfortunately, Capping had its flaws this year. First off, sex is funny only sometimes. Our harshest take: the Capping cast came across like a bunch of virgins. Sex jokes every three minutes cum across as desperate and get old quickly, especially when they piggyback off of Gen-Z-esque humour that risks being dated and, quite frankly, incomprehensible to those who aren’t chronically online (i.e.people who aren’t virgins). Making reference to ‘gooning’ and ‘twinks’ had the millennial couple in front of us using the University wifi to Google shit no prestigious institute would want tracked back to them. It was just a bit of a miss, and we ended up cringing on behalf of the proud parents who had come to watch.
The show’s source material – How to Train Your Dragon – didn’t translate to student culture as well as it could have. Most notably, the titular freshers don’t speak at all; instead, they roar and fly around like actual dragons. It was a confusing choice – even a breatha who proudly declared to Critic it’s “the best movie ever made, period” didn’t get it. The film’s premise could have been adapted better if the writers hadn’t clung so tightly to the source material, and just gone with a looser storyline (and clearer stakes).
Hazing freshers was the central plot. All well and good, except there were no references to decades of infamous, well-documented hazing scandals (no ducks? Not even an eel?). Capping Show is all about dark, shock-value humour. This was a prime opportunity to hit close to home with some in-jokes. Instead, we got shallow notions of egging, which felt like your Boomer uncle’s interpretation of what students are up to these days. While not quite Boomers, Critic hears some of the paid writers for the show are in their mid-twenties. Go figure?
Ah, Sexytet. They were the stand-out of last year’s show. Maybe it was the opening-night nerves but the singing was a little off the mark this time around. Worse, they seem to have set feminism back by about 50 years. Yes, low-hanging sex jokes are their schtick (it’s in the name) and we understand the nuance in sexual liberation (Critic loves getting dicked down). But ladies, there’s more to life than just being slutty, and there’s a line between subversive and sexist. This year disappointingly landed on the latter. Their male counterpart Sextext found a better balance between slapstick and smart, with funnier material and stronger vocals (despite maybe one too many gay jokes).
And then came the Nazi bit (and a random, three minute long 9/11 joke). Capping is famous for its “no one’s safe approach” but shock humour only works when there’s substance behind it – otherwise it’s just shock for shock’s sake. This year, these jokes were a bit like a Cadbury Easter bunny; while it looks fine at first glance, underneath it’s hollow. They’re best when the audience is trusted to understand the joke themselves. Unfortunately, between destroying cardboard Twin Towers and a picture of the Capping cast as concentration camp victims, not much was left to the imagination.
What really salvaged the show from its pattern of missteps was the cheap concession stand. Armed with a chocolate fish and a Wests’ soda, Critic pushed through to the culty champagne toasting that Sextet and Sexytet do at the end of every show. We left with a rewatch of How to Train Your Dragon on the to-do list, just in case we missed any context clues.
This year’s cast was seemingly younger than last year’s Beezie, which absolutely blew How to Train Your Fresher out of the water – proof that Capping Show is worth buying a ticket for when done right. That said, the Barbenheimer phenomenon is a tough act to follow. Everything from budget and marketing to cast size and experience can affect how a show lands year to year. Kudos to this year’s team for their passion and commitment to the show; though it has its flaws, it’s still clear that a lot of effort has gone on behind the scenes to make this thing run.
For those reasons, Critic still reckons it’s worth grabbing a ticket and checking it out for yourself. You'll snort some giggles, shoot your mates the occasional can-you-believe-they-said-that look, and help keep the show alive as it (hopefully) builds toward a stronger 132nd year.