Michael James Manaia

Michael James Manaia, by John Broughton, brought to Melbourne by Taki Rua Theatre Company is a much-loved New Zealand work, and for good reason. The story is of a returned Vietnam vet hailing from a family where post-traumatic stress is a legacy handed down from father to son. A man's life is here expressed with idiomatic flair in a text redolent with imagery, culture, history, pathos and humour. The writing is expressive and lyrical, big chunks of it in Maori, used to powerful effect. Ritualistic chants and poems, prayers and incantations, inherent to the work, build a sensual and intimate portrait of rural NZ in the '60s. This tale of siblings, war, culture and love is presented in an intensely physical way by a remarkably charismatic actor, Te Kohe Tuhaka. There are a few problems with his generally compelling performance: direction (by Nathaniel Lees) of this overlong script doesn't allow for silences or much relief in pacing – the performer is alternately raging or clowning; he's wonderful to watch but, despite the emoting, isn't given his full range. The earliest tragedy, in particular, doesn't ring true. An especially powerful element, however, is the silent haka, a moment of real expression and a refreshing break from the wordiness of the rest of the production. Lighting and set are economical, the stage beautifully bare and dominated at all times by Tuhaka. The ending doesn't satisfy but on the whole this is a singular and original work of story telling.

Running at Fortyfivedownstairs until Sunday 28 October.