Words by: Mauatua Fa'ara-Reynolds (she/they)
After debuting in 2022 with great success, Ngā Rorirori is back and better than ever. Combining contemporary dance, commedia farce, and traditional theatre, this show is like no other Māori lands settlement story you've seen before.
Set in the wharekai of a rural marae, Ngā Rorirori centres around a brother and sister's newfound ownership of their rohe as the last two members of their hapū. Pillow, the tungane (Manuel Solomon), is a convicted fraudster recently released from prison looking to sink his teeth into another cash-grab project. Manuela, the pōtiki (Mycah Keall), is a forthright activist trying to keep her whānau from falling apart. As the new owners, they have an incredible responsibility placed on them. And today is the day that the Department of Whakapapa, Whenua and Whatever will come to cement their title as rangatira. Will Pillow give up the whenua to make some big-time mulla? Or will Manuela save the day with mana wāhine?
With music and sound design by acclaimed musicians MĀ and WYNONA, the show was energised by these incredible soundscapes that mixed RnB and Hip Hop elements, making it feel super current and dynamic. One moment I thought was particularly pertinent was when Pillow had this big wad of cash, and Money by Iti Bubbas started playing (if you haven't listened to this song, do it). Then all the actors started busting some serious dancing and twerking and making it rain mulla. Although comedic, it was also the perfect Gen Z way of capturing the trivial and hypocritical nature of money-hungry assholes.
Juggling the lip-syncing of te reo and English, various forms of dance, and acting? How the cast did it all beats me. I may be biased because both characters were kick-ass decol activists, but my standouts were Sefa Tunupopo (who played Rere Ahuahu, Manuela's partner) and Mycah Keall (Manuela). Tunupopo, a rising star in the dancing world, was versatile and quickly switched from chorus to character. And Keall fully embodied the strength and mana of her character, serving cunt and clams.
Ngā Rorirori exists in an exaggerated kitschy world, where the actors lip-sync to pre-recorded dialogue in te reo Māori and te reo Pākehā, punctuating their lines with kick, step, entendu, jete. At first, seeing such a tapu subject dealt with so playfully was jarring at first, but once the shock settled, holy faaark. What an incredibly uplifting way to explore how capitalism complicates the relationships between whānau and whenua.
Not to spoil the ending, but the story wraps up on a very 'Omnia vincit amor' note. However, the play's climax occurred in the last 3-5 minutes, with minimal build-up. So when the actors emerged from their characters to bow and thank everyone involved, I felt like I'd been edged, left with my balls all blue and sore. While the final scene was heart-warming and looked towards a brighter future, it felt like we'd just gone through this roller-coaster of emotions and experiences, only to stop mid-way through and have to hop off.
I always find it so interesting to see people of the Pacific critique (or, in this case, poke fun at) their own people, especially regarding such deeply political subject matter. But Ngā Rorirori brings joy, life, and love to these topics, with a firm belief that whānau and aroha remain at the centre of everything. I urge everyone to go see this; maybe being left wanting more is a beautiful thing.