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Drama

New Zealand Visions

Pigland Prophet

by Frank Edwards directed by Stephen McElrea Circa Theatre

Many years ago at Seacliff Mental Hospital there resided a man in one of the stables that was known as the maximum security wing. In the excercise yard a tree was growing, a branch of which extended over the fence. Throughout the many years of his residency this extremely patient inmate watched the branch grow in strength until the time it could support his weight. This vigil gave him strength to survive the long years of incarceration.

One day the time came, the bough had gained the required strength, so he made ready. But that night another inmate took it into his head to make use of this escape route and bungled it. The bough was cut down.

This is a true story. The man was not Lionel Terry.

The year before last I lived in Seacliff, over the road from the now derelict Mental Hospital. But the ghosts linger on. The desperation of the above tale is the atmosphere that pervades the continually shifting Seacliff soil. It is the atmosphere that pervades this play and production.

Pigland Prophet is one of the most powerful works in theatre that I have seen in a long time. If there is such a thing as New Zealand soul this play grasps it and wrings it dry. This soul comes from our history, our crises and mistakes. And the play has it all.

The New Zealander is the Maori who has been displaced from the land. Other races have been displaced from their homelands. Godzone is thus a land of displaced people attempting to create a society we can call totally ours.

But we make some disastrous mistakes. To cover our confusion we create an immense bureaucracy that becomes impenetrable. Institutions are rampant, committees form to resolve any problem, or rather in an attempt to throw a mat over the dirt that clings. The logical conclusion is the centralism and potential fascism of the Muldoon type of government.

With Lionel Terry we had a man much like Adolf Hitler. He was a fanatic who hated and feared all races other than the pure white Anglo-Saxon. He was so engrossed with purity that he ate nothing but vegetables, took walks over hundreds of miles (walks that have now become legendary), and apparently eschewed sexual contact of any kind. He thought of himself as a prophet and acted as such.

The world is well aware of the turmoil and destruction such fanaticism can create. However, unlike Hitler, Terry kept his ravings in the realms of art. His major political act was to kill an old Chinaman and use this to publicise his cause. A symbolic deed, one of warped lightness in his terms, but politically very naive. Thank God for this naivity otherwise New Zealand would be the home of the Third Reich.

But the question remains, if he was more astute, would we have listened to his ravings. He was after all a man of great intelligence with a strong will and charisma. And you can't deny we do listen to such people. Because of his repulsive misstep he was declared insane, tortured, beaten and locked away for the rest of his life.

A good thing to do?

In that we were protected from such a dangerous fanatic it could well be true. But the danger lay not with him, but with ourselves. Could we have withstood his barrage of charm?

Truby King has a vision of similar magnitude. He believed New Zealand could be saved if people were treated in the manner he had conceived. This involved bringing them up from birth enshrouded in his behaviourist methodology, under the direction of the Plunket Society. This was potentially just as damaging. But as Medical Superintendent he was also caught in that net of the Seacliff Mental Hospital, forced to condone acts of which he disapproved, and was thus stifled.

So the system protected us from two potentially equal dangers. Was it right? It denied us the potential development from coming into direct conflict with such things. Such conflict keeps a society vital.

Frank Edwards manages to bring this and many other things out in his play. The various layers of experience combined to form a powerful unity. Better construction is possibly desirable but more tightness might well strangle the overall feeling.

Stephen McElrea, the director, worked very closely with the author throughout the whole process of writing, and this becomes obvious in the production. There exists a powerful commitment and a harmony between the written word and its actual embodiment on stage which are very rare in New Zealand.

This energy spills over the actors. Jeff Thomas as Lionel Terry does a superb job. It is an unsentimental and honest portrayal of the man. All the others manage to perform the many roles that are expected of them without ever slipping into caricature, an easy mistake to make.

A special mention must be made here of Roger Page, playing Truby King and others. His discussion of the role of the soldier in society, coupled with his squashing the life out of a young blackbird thrown from the nest is extremely evocative.

The overwhelming feeling I received from this production was its intense commitment to its subject, a commitment which was accepted by everyone involved. Such energy is a very powerful force and might have blinded me from some technical errors. But this vitality is the life blood of theatre and when it exists, it must be acclaimed.

John Bailey