Not all Otago graduates have hopped across the ditch, it would seem. Ellie Swann and Lanient Swann – certifiable uncs (aunts?) of the Otago University's Theatre Studies – invited Critic Te Ārohi to review their new play, Stitched, written by Ellie.
Critic didn't know what to do at first. We review silly shows. This is probably our first review of a serious play since we had a Theatre Editor in 2012. Here goes re-learning how to walk, we guess.
The two-woman play was held in the New Athenaeum Theatre (or, in student terms, right next to Dunedin Social Club). An adaptation of Shakespeare’s Othello, Stitched follows two medieval noblewomen, the idealistic and silly Desi, and the wryly cynical Emi, as they both gossip and scheme on how to make the most of their restricted lives.
Stitched owes a debt to Rosencrantz & Guildenstern are Dead, a play which follows two minor characters from Hamlet – who, by way of Hamlet's slight fame and the title, everyone knows are super fucking doomed. Desi and Emi are Desdemona and Emilia. Their husbands are the noble Othello and the wicked Iago, and the "cock" is Rodrigo. None of them has a happy ending. We were simultaneously graced and haunted by our NCEA English nightmares.
But we think it is a testament to the script's strength that you could understand the play without knowing Othello. Sure, it follows the beat of Shakespeare's play. Each scene imagines the conversations Desi and Emi shared in between Othello scenes. But the script is mindful to keep details light, never mentions the other character by name, and uses modern language. And the world of the play is onstage, not offstage – leaving Othello as mere detail to this script. Stitched is about the two women, their friendship, and their authentic, private selves.
The play literally opens with Desi, played by the devilishly delightful Ellie Swann, chortling about how thick the men are to think that women are actually as they present in the pageantry, pomp, and performance of court life. They make as much fun as they can by scheming against men they don't like. Lol.
Stitched is a Shakespearean tragedy. And from those, you always come away having learnt something profound about the human experience, but you're too stupid to articulate it.
As the play progresses, Emi's prospects improve while Desi's worsen, and she begins to sense danger brewing in the outside male world. Desi steals Emi's handkerchief to improve her standing with her increasingly distant husband, not knowing he will use its disappearance to get Emi's husband to destroy her. Desi's decision is fatal: after the events of Stitched, Emi's husband kills her. The lesson seems to be about how women navigate patriarchal oppression, sometimes trying to scheme against it in little ways, and sometimes trying to appease it.
But the women are still individuals, still actors within their world. Stitched is a simple play, where two friends try to support each other, but are engaging in happiness transactions, first sacrificing, then unwittingly taking from one another. It is impossible to escape the impression both characters are mother and daughter – helped by the fact that the actors, who try to do right by each other, but cannot help destroying each other. Desi, by her inability to see any danger behind her giddy ascent into young love; Emi, by her inability not to resort to cynical scheming. These starry-eyed and world-wary opposites do not change, and so neither wins.
Our macabre attempt at thinking aside, this play was a romp. Ellie's bombastic comedy and Lanient's entertaining innocence make watching two people lounge about for 65 minutes enjoyable. The practical details were delicious, too. An otherwise simple set was made dynamic. Shoestring budgets force innovation, and when theatre makes showbiz from that, they should always be commended. The costumes aimed for Victorian, and proved successful in that ambition. Perhaps too ambitious. Long costume swaps between scenes left the audience waiting like you wait for your friend to get ready for pres – awkwardly and impatiently.
Finally, a word for our sponsor, Stitched (who put an ad in our mag), and other bits of local Dunedin theatre. Whether it be the Lunchtime Theatre programme at Allen Hall, the various shows that cycle through the New Athenium Theatre, or even the yearly Fringe Festival, there's more performance to Dunedin than just the student revues. And even if it's shit, at least you'll be able to bitch about something else to your flatties.
