Waiora Te Ūkaipõ – The Homeland. There is an inherent risk in reviving a thirty-year-old play, especially one set thirty years prior, especially one that purports to expose the plight of Maori suffering from cultural loss and displacement, institutional racism and destruction of whanau support systems. A script written to expose the predicament of Maori in 1996, can be perceived as embarrassingly racist in 2026.
While the play, beautifully staged and performed at the ASB Waterfront Theatre is technically a very good piece of theatre, it is nearly impossible to get past the characterisation of its protagonist John/Hone (Regan Taylor).
Waiora was written in the era of Once Were Warriors. And if Jake ‘the Muss’ Heke was the ‘bad Maori’, John/Hone was ‘the good.’ Both men struggling against forces beyond their control, stripping them of the Maori concept of manhood without offering them a place in the colonised masculine world.
Jake’s response was violence, alcohol and domestic abuse, and a refusal to bow to the colonists. John/Hone kowtows to the new world order, naively expecting that through hard work and deference he will achieve what is his due and provide a good life for his family.
Both are constantly held to account by their tipuna (ancestors) who have become mythologised to godlike status. They are failures in both worlds.
This premise is as valid today across the entire globe as it has ever been throughout human history. Colonisers/conquerors strip the indigent men of all power and either by enslavement or economic necessity, force them into menial labour. The women are left to care for their families more or less the way they always have.
This is why the play has been acclaimed around the world. It resonates with every man whose tribe has been conquered by another, every man whose culture has faced erasure by a coloniser, every man whose seen his country invaded by another that seeks to impose its vastly different moral code upon him. And every woman who has to cope with the rage and indignities her partner endures.
It is 1965 and Waiora opens on a beautifully crafted wooden platform, occupied by four lumpen figures, who emerge as magnificent gods of the land; sculpted and powerful, embodying the triumph of the ancients. They are breathtaking, truly awesome.
The platform also functions as beach, garden and home of John and Sue (Erina Daniels) and their three children; Amiria (Rongopai Tickell), Rongo (Tioreore Ngati-Melbourne) and Boyboy (Te Mihi Potae). The women are preparing a hangi for John’s boss, Steve Campbell (Ben Ashby). They are joined by Boyboy’s schoolteacher, the wealthy Louise Stones (Mycah Keall). Louise and Amelia are singing The Beatles She Loves You (Yeah, Yeah, Yeah) when John enters and criticises their new music. But later on he strums ‘good music’ on his guitar – Elvis Presley’s Blue Moon.
As in the Greek tradition, every character is a trope; John the naïve Everyman, Sue the loyal wife, Amiria the wreckless girl, Rongo the wise old soul, Boyboy the confused youth, Louise the well-meaning outsider, and Steve the genial, condescending overlord.
The family has recently moved, at the behest of John’s boss, from the East Coast to the south island. They’ve left their whanau and friends behind and are struggling as they settle into their new home. Louise, well-meaning but tone-deaf, wonders why. “There are Maori here,” she blithely says. And Rongo wearily answers, “We are not all the same.”
John is at war with his other two children. Amelia is too reckless. Boyboy can’t get anything right. And he’s looking forward to Steve’s arrival, expecting him to announce John’s promotion to foreman at the mill.
This first half of the play is predictable and trite. We’ve seen these tropes and heard this script a hundred times since its inception. There are many moments that are almost painful to watch, a narrow version of ‘they are just like us’ Maoridom presented to the colonisers in an effort to combat racism in the late 20th century, with both Maori and colonisers oblivious to the blatant racism so clearly present.
What holds the play together is the presence of the Tipuna (ancestors). They posture behind the family, judging them, always judging – so the family is caught between the past and present unable to please either.
So what is ‘wrong’ with this 30 year old revival of a play set 30 years prior?
I think of Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman. At the time it was written, Willy Loman represented the everyman betrayed by a cruel system. Today, Willy is seen as a man betrayed by his refusal to see what is obviously going on in the world around him. He is no longer seen as the victim, but a pathetically blind man caught in his own delusions.
We have the same problem here.
John is not a hero. Not now. Now he is a sad little man determinedly prostrating himself to his oppressors. We can feel sorry for him, but we can’t empathise or identify with him. In this critic’s humble opinion, he needs a rewrite. He needs his dignity restored in a way contemporary audiences will recognise it.
I have the sense that Hone Kouka, who wrote and directed the play might be too close to his own work to recognise this shift in cultural perspective. Waiora was written in the 90’s, when Kouka was a young man. He has said the play is largely autobiographical, and I wonder if his perspective on his own father has changed over the past thirty years. Could he, should he, grant John/Hone some grace?
So my question is, do I recommend this play? It’s a hard call. A thing that can make me think so much and reflect so deeply on the evolution of racism is worthy of consideration. I am a white woman seeing it for the first time in 2026. Would I have felt differently in 1996? How do Maori perceive the depiction of John/Hone? Now and then? Is it an author’s duty to update their work for contemporary audiences?
If these questions intrigue you, the answer is yes – you will find Waiora intensely thought-provoking. If not, it probably won’t be your cuppa.
Waiora is playing at the ASB Waterfront Theatre through 22 March. Tickets are available HERE.