NOTE: This review will not contain spoilers.
Church just opened.
Award-winning play The Cardinal Rules by Hurrah Hurrah is a three-person play by Rose Maher, who performs alongside co-writer Alison Bennett and Martelle Hammer. Together they weave an ethereal web of story, commentary and comedy to deliver a message that’s more relevant than ever.
The set upon entry to the Hannah Playhouse is designed to distract. There are white cloths hanging everywhere, draped over large objects to look like ghosts. It’s all very abstract. Alison Bennett sits atop a platform, facing off to the side, mouthing along to Imagine Dragon’s Believer which is inexplicably being played on repeat. Lights flicker as the rest of the audience (or congregation) files in, and it successfully hides its opening gambit in plain sight. I certainly didn’t see it coming.
After the initial surprises, we are thrust into an abstract reconstruction of the main character’s inner turmoil. Two ‘aunties’ act as problem solvers, attempting to decipher her movements and actions, though it’s initially unclear what exactly they’re trying to solve. We travel along a journey of reminiscence, to a heartbreaking realisation, and a conclusion of hope that brings everything together.
Lead Rose Maher has a darkness about her. Her movements are purposeful and slow, for the most part, which makes her sudden snaps to joviality (particularly when she plays a younger version of herself) all the more impactful. It lends itself to a character who feels convincingly suppressed, and frustrated, while the audience roots for her to break out. Alison Bennett and Martelle Hammer, who both play multiple characters, although through the lens of aunties attempting to usher in a psychological breakthrough. Bennett brings a strong sweet kid energy, being effortlessly playful and charming the audience with delightful smiles. Hammer is a sassier type, winking at the audience and delivering her lines with expert timing. All three combined provide a wide array of talent that ensures the audience gets a healthy variety in performance styles.
And that’s so necessary for the kind of themes that the show delves into. Using the framing of the Catholic Church, the play explores the abuse of power and how it’s used to suppress voices within its ranks. There are trigger warnings of child abuse and suicide, but the actual manifestation is neither tasteless nor overly explicit. It’s simply the nature of the Church and its system of oppression. Moments of levity prevent the audience from ever getting too uncomfortable, but the show is at its best when it’s getting right up to the line, demonstrating how silence is weaponised.
Because the true price of suppression is agency. Throughout the entire play, we see Maher‘s suppressed performance shed its shackles. We see her need to be heard manifest and push back against the villains that would steal her voice, her curiosity. Once the play reveals what exactly the purpose of the abstraction is, we want her to yell, to scream, to shout her truth from the rooftops. We’re never shown the fallout from her conclusion. We don’t have to. It doesn’t matter. The realisation is the point.
We are all human beings. Some with more options for choices than others. But we do have choices. In a world where it’s becoming easier and easier to stand by and watch it burn rather than pick up a hose, we need stories like this to remind us that speaking up isn’t easy, but it’s the right thing to do. The Cardinal Rules is designed in a way to get you on their side, then set a fire in you to do something about it. We can’t stand idly by anymore, hoping for someone to do something. The action has to come from within.
Even if it takes a couple of weird aunties raving inside your head.
Disclosure: As a somewhat active member of the Wellington performing arts community, I may be quite familiar with a number of the performers in this show. Having said that, I am not a liar, and there is zero bias in my reviews, shut up.
Also, tickets were provided to me for free by the production. Literally changes nothing, though