At the core of any conflict, there is a fundamental rift in idealogies. Choosing to hold steadfast to your guns or to yield your position depends on your ego, and whether or not you end up friends at the end of it all depends on how much of it you’re willing to put aside. Only by choosing to appreciate your feelings can you truly know what side you’re on.
Boys and Girls at the School Silent Disco positions such a conflict as the driving force behind every beat of the plot. Two student council leaders are at odds. One insists that each student indulge in their individualism, and the other seeks to unify them all under a shared culture. They open up with impassioned monologues that make presidential debates look like mere squabbles (not a difficult feat in this climate), and from that point on, they refuse to let go of their messaging.
Written by Jack McGee of Sandwich Artist fame, Boys and Girls at the School Silent Disco is a wonderful, emotionally-charged character showcase that delights the audience in its silliness, drama and heart. It is the projection of a bunch of ten-year-olds if they had the vocabulary and intelligence of greek philosophers, but it never feels overly hammy or absurd. Director Ben Kelly has assembled a strong cast with a strong vision that never lets up at any point.
Our first character on-stage is Sean Burnett Dugdale-Martin’s Christopher who plays heavily into simply existing in the space, drawing attention, intrigue and respect. They are constantly putting their views forward with an eloquence that almost makes you want to take their side entirely. They are quickly followed by Anna Barker’s Julianne, whose whip-sharp movements are impossible to look away from, giving her the vibe of a glitching video game character. That frustration and frantic energy consumes her until the climax of her arc, where she stands so still for a speech that I’m wondering if it’s even the same actress. It’s a beautiful contrast and an excellent showcase of her movement skills.
Mia Oudes excels as Katie, a haphazard free spirit who flutters from partner to partner, breaking hearts where she can. The chemistry she has with each of her scene partners feels so effortless and it’s just a joy to watch her interact with pretty much everybody in the show with a range of different emotional approaches. Dylan Hutton remains the king of putting on a brave face, skirting the line between maintaining a fragile shell and outright bursting with tears (or other fluids). He’s the saddest boy I’ve ever seen, but damn it, does he keep marching on.
I love everything about Phoebe Caldeiro’s performance as Sarinka. She starts off as an apathetic character with no clear motivation other than wanting to avoid other people’s drama and ends owning the climax of the story. Everything feels cleanly set up and Caldeiro’s performance is a masterclass in playing the mundane for a huge narrative twist that had my jaw hanging the entire time she was holding the bucket. Speaking of slow burns, Daniel Nodder’s Danny absolutely stole the ending of the show with their character’s backstory reveal and subsequent fallout. I have to admit, I believed Danny was superfluous to the story until the grand finale which properly put me in my place. Just a solid three minutes and thirty-one seconds of pure talent.
Rounding out the on-stage presence was the Stage Manager, Julia McDonald, who had few words, but a massive impact on the smoothness of the play. There was only one instance in which I caught onto what she was doing; a clever switcheroo with a couple of cans that I only saw because I happened to be sitting at the perfect angle to witness it. The result was theatre magic that made me wonder what other sleight of hands she’d pulled in order to make the show feel so polished. Finally, we had Campbell Wright in the tech booth, complementing McDonald’s on-stage presence with expertly timed lighting and sound cues that gave the show a sleekness that did not have to go as hard as it did.
In terms of theatrecraft, the production value is excellent. The costume designs, by Heather Wright, are distinct, colourful and so fun to look at. There’s a very clear inspiration from Year 6 socials going on here. Likewise, the stage is an impeccable mix of primary school audotorium/gymnasium and raised platforms designed for spotlight staging. Production Designer, Jacob Banks, has clearly succeeded in capturing that elementary vibe.
Ultimately, Boys and Girls at the School Silent Disco is a show that really showcases the awkwardness of youth, and the way we’re raised to confront conflict. It’s a celebration of the silly fights we have and the way they make us stronger and discover our sense of self. These sorts of things aren’t supposed to drive us apart from each other, they’re meant to help us find that common ground.
That common ground being the School Disco.
Disclosure: As a somewhat active member of the Wellington performing arts community, I am 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.