Written by Diane Spodarek
Directed by Sally Richards
At Bats
31 July 31 – 9 August
The flyer and programme notes for Winter seem to emphasise the cultural differences of the show’s two protagonists, one a Kiwi and the other an American, and the effect this has on their romantic relationship. Sure these aspects were featured, but for me they seemed rather secondary, and worked more to give the play a structure while it explored greater issues of existentialism and being. Winter may not be faultless in either script or execution, but it certainly left me chewing a few deep and challenging thoughts.
Winter opens with Crystal (played by Melissa Billington) relating a more and more far-fetched story about her walk along the beach while her other half, Horse (played by Nigel Edgecombe) becomes increasingly agitated by her obvious lack of concern for his feelings. This sets up a running motif of dreams and fantasy as well as what, for me, becomes a theme of the struggle, even impossibility, to communicate coherently and sensitively. It is in this latter point which I detect an invocation of absurdist influences such as Beckett and Ionesco.
The show focusses at several occasions on the disconnection between words and their potential meanings. Why the contraction ‘cuppa’ ? Why do we ask for a cup of tea, why not just ask for tea? Characters would blurt statements which bordered on nonsensical. “This is a third-world country,” says Horse of New Zealand. How so? Many of these moments are framed as a clash between cultures, but I felt as though the play were treading something deeper and more profound than this surface reading would entail.
Production-wise, the play holds together. The set recalls a typical hippy/artist bach somewhere up the coast, and includes threateningly high stacks of books and surreal artworks. I was glad that someone with a natural American accent had been cast in the role of Crystal. However I found a few of the lighting changes a little stilted, and the show could have benefited from smoother lighting transitions in less obvious places.
During an early diatribe on the philosophical nature of dreams, using the well-known ‘how do we know this isn’t really a dream’ trick, Crystal demonstrates with her hands the universal symbol of the dream, a sign which is reincorporated during the show’s final moments to symbolise Crystal’s questioning of, even incredulity towards, her life in New Zealand. For me, Winter is like an absurdist comedy, teetering between reality and a world of dreams and fantasies. If anything, it’s encouraging to know that I’m not the only one who finds the difference between the two foggy at times.