There is far more to New Zealand than a location for Lord of the Rings. As I discovered a few years back, it has its own thriving indigenous theatre; and, even if Lennie James's play is a bit schematic and message-laden, it is put across with real panache by Auckland's visiting Massive Company.
Set in a south Auckland garage, James's play, the Sons of Charlie Paora, takes place during a wake for the eponymous hero: maths teacher, surrogate father and rugby coach to five Maori and Samoan guys who have come to swap memories and mourn his passing.
But their boozy, raucous rout is interrupted by the arrival of Charlie's son and daughter. The former, in particular, burns with resentment at their father's love for his sporting proteges and neglect of his own family; and only after a potentially ugly confrontation is a truce uneasily established.
As a visiting writer, James has done his homework and sometimes it shows too visibly.
You feel he has slotted in all the stories he has heard, from the small town fugitive's contempt for his origins to the ancestor-worship that stops one guy becoming an All Black contender.
We even get to see a strange Samoan rite in which a man threatens starvation until forgiven for his sins.
However, James's play makes the leap from anthropology into drama when it deals with the confused, conflicting memories of the late Charlie, and when it takes on the resonance of the Prodigal Son parable.
Samantha Scott's production, with its hakas, hip-hop and choreographed recreation of rugby triumphs, also has a pounding ensemble vigour and catches exactly the mixture of realism and ritual that is part of New Zealand's mutli-culturalism.
Max Palamo, as the guilt-ridden, guacamole-making host, Liston Rua, as a nervy local Don Juan, Jason Webb as the patronising rugby star, and Wesley Dowdell, as Charlie's abrasive son, all give good individual performances.
But this is really a team show about a group of dominated guys who, partly because of the pervasive influence of their mentor, have never fully matured into men.
· Until March 6. Box office: 020-7565 5000.
