[Dreaming of Electric Sheep]
We begin with a bang. There isn’t a gradual dimming of the lights, no hushed ready at midnight. Straightaway we’re launched into catastrophic information reviews, chronicling the following 100 years. China and India rise to international dominance amid political turmoil and ongoing local weather disaster, creating an authoritarian (although not so unfamiliar) imaginative and prescient of Aotearoa with closed borders, a brand new class of the undocumented, unlawful rice trades, and other people trafficking.
Tāmaki Makaurau, 2123. Amid the rain-filled, neon-lit streets, we meet Shiva (Gemma-Jayde Naidoo) – an undocumented migrant struggling to make ends meet; a troublesome cookie and a very good fighter. She is our badass narrator, our entry level into this new world. She must get her papers sorted, which is why she turns to Bisma (Karishma Grebneff), a meek workplace employee who secretly writes erotic fiction (now unlawful). By way of Bisma, Shiva is drawn into the darkish world of the underground rice commerce – gangs, turf wars, a combating racket; the entire 9 yards.
Basmati Bitch, written by Ankita Singh and directed by Ahi Karunaharan, is a visually spectacular, fast-paced firecracker of a present. Suppose Blade Runner meets Scott Pilgrim. Q’s Rangatira is reworked, lastly residing as much as its black-box potential. The viewers is positioned in traverse (both aspect of the stage). Giant steel stairs sit on each quick sides, main as much as the place the gods seating normally is. Right here there are translucent sliding doorways, from which characters can enter and exit, offering the backdrop onto which Ant Sang’s fantastic designs are projected.
It’s a visible and auditory feast, taking stylistic cues from anime, comedian books and video video games. Te Aihe Butler creates a enjoyable and slick language of sound results, layering on high of the visible splendour and perfectly-paced motion. The performers are all bodily adept, creating thrilling combat scenes and leaning laborious into their larger-than-life characters. Karunaharan’s staging is dynamic, making full use of the creative set (designed by Rachel Marlow and Bradley Gledhill) and elevating Singh’s tight and humorous script to the realm of cinematic banger.
The story is easy however stable, as is typical of any good motion piece. It doesn’t demand a lot mental engagement from the viewers, however somewhat offers the muse for this intoxicating spectacle. It’s common however distinctive, drawing on cultural touchstones such because the significance of rice and the nagging aunties (performed comically by Amanda Grace Hsu Hsien Leo and Celine Dam). The world-building is impeccable, all the way down to the timeline of occasions included in this system.
Most of all, this present is enjoyable. It’s a quirky, romping comedy wrapped up within the package deal of a pop-y neo-noir motion. A forbidden queer romance performed with winking sincerity by Mo Nasir and Rob Gibson, the alpha-male asthmatic mob-boss (Mel Odedra), and erotic fiction saving the day. At its coronary heart is the connection between Shiva and Bisma, however the entire crew of loveable characters has been cleverly woven collectively and carried out with clear enjoyment by the ensemble forged.
It’s uncommon that we get to see locally-produced work of this ambition and aesthetic flare on our levels. Basmati Bitch joins Purple Leap’s Dakota of the White Flats and ATC’s Scenes From A Yellow Peril in setting a brand new precedent for what theatre can appear to be (however now add in combat choreography). Singh has crammed the necessity for work that represents the pan-Asian neighborhood with out being restricted to matters of trauma or racism. Basmati Bitch touches on colonialism, migration, and the affect of capitalism whereas at its core being a enjoyable and heartfelt action-comedy. It’s a style piece, achieved to perfection. I laughed and I yelled, and my coronary heart soared. Blazingly trendy and joyously thrilling, you may be sorry to overlook it.
Basmati Bitch performs Q Theatre eleventh – thirtieth of July 2023
