There’s a lot to be said about platonic relationships that just isn’t. We seek out company and we cherish the memories we have with our friends, but rarely do I find myself talking about about why a friendship means so much to me. Why we go to the lengths we do for the sake of a cold kombucha and a great yarn.
“How’s so-and-so? You haven’t seen them in a while.”
“I’m sure they’re fine.”
Why don’t I just pick up the phone and ask?
Katherine Weaver’s excellent show, We’ll Still Be Friends After This, is exactly what I needed to see.
One theme of this year’s New Zealand Improv Festival has been the pursuit of joy and re-connecting after so many years of uncertainty. Throughout the show, various friendships are tested, some more than others, but they all share the same goal; to find a way to stay friends.
It’s beautiful.
The performers build friendships based on dialogue written by the audience on a whiteboard. As the scenes develop, edits come streaming in from the director as she, pardon the pun, weaves drama (but not conflict) through each storyline. At first, I’m a little apprehensive about the notes being passed to the performers. By the end, I’m dying to know what’s on every piece of paper that exchanges hands.
The friendships have a bit of cross-over, but for the most part they’re split into distinct groupings.
Fire and Electricity
Ryan Goodwin and Ciarán Searle are actors. They trust one another completely as performers whilst guarding terrible secrets from each other as characters. When Goodwin reveals the sad truth about about seeing his old friend every six months, Searle speedruns the seven stages of grief convincingly; denying, bargaining, even moving up his wedding in order to fulfill acceptance. Goodwin’s scream echoes throughout the Random Stage to a silent awestruck audience. There’s a burning inside Goodwin that’s only matched by Searle’s lightning wit. Fire and Electricity indeed.
Growing Up
Bianca Casusol, Claire Reilly and Maria Williams illustrate the ever-changing lifestyles of a group of friends that are ageing at different rates. One has just had a baby, one seeks to skip ahead to motherhood, and one insists on her status as the baby of the group. Casusol and Reilly bring a touching sweetness to their co-parenting undertaking and Williams looks visibly dejected, not because she’s a brat, but because she feels like she feels like she’s lost something to this new baby. The story delightfully proves her wrong. No matter what, they’ll still be there for each other. Yes, some of them are more ahead in life than others, but their roots are all in the same place.
Getting Rolled
Tara McEntee and Brendon Bennetts are superb as a duo whose power dynamic is ever shifting in one direction. They play off each other superbly as they both mime struggling to stay upright during a roller rink session that results in them swearing off the sport. As their scenes continue, McEntee’s tone of voice shifts. It’s a masterful ascent into authority which Bennetts shrinks in response to. Power escalates and it becomes harder and harder to see a way back to camaraderie for the pair until Williams returns to show McEntee that improving yourself doesn’t mean giving up parts of yourself. In the end, the pair forgives each other, as friends do.
We’ll Still Be Friends After This is an emotionally-charged, sweet commentary on modern friendships that me laughing, cringing and tearing up. The cast are all excellent, except I would have liked to see more scenes where Bennetts took the centre stage, but with a cast this large and the format as it is, everyone managed to squeeze in a reasonable amount of time each over the fifty or so minutes the show took place in.
Katherine Weaver has put together an excellent showcase of three wonderful friendships through incredibly precise direction and smooth edits that both wowed and delighted the audience. The success of her show is a testament to her optimistic philosophy on improv and a soul-warming treat for all of us who were there to witness it.
Now, if you don’t mind me, I’ve got a friend to call.
Disclosure: As a somewhat active member of the Wellington improv community, I am quite familiar with some of the performers in this show.
Having said that, I am not a liar, and there is zero bias in my reviews, shut up.