O le Pepelo, le Gaoi, ma le Pala’ai / The Liar, the Thief and the Coward – ASB Waterfront Theatre, 7 February 2024: Review

O le Pepelo, le Gaoi, ma le Pala’ai – The Liar, the Thief and the Coward, written by Natano Keni and Sarita So, presented by Auckland Theatre Company and The Auckland Arts Festival, elevates the family drama to the level of the mythic.

Tradition and modernity clash is this universal yet unique story which brings fa’a Samoa (the way of Samoa) to life at the ASB Waterfront Theatre.

The curtain rises on an imposing figure atop a tall plinth. Instruments of chieftainship adorn him. He cries out in pain, keeling over, and the light fades on his outstretched hand. This is Pili (Semu Filipo), the dying chief, patriarch, and instigator of our story, casting the image of King Lear in his egoistic madness and refusal to name a successor.

We are then introduced to a much humbler-looking man, Voafefe (Jesme Fa’auuga), the village vale (idiot).

Another archetypal figure, the wise Fool.

Indeed, he reminds me of Puck as he addresses us first in Samoan then in English, casting the spell of the shadows about to play upon the stage. He takes us into the Samoan worldview, explaining the Va against a stunning projected backdrop (designed by Delainy Kennedy).

Now we are ready for the coming story of power-plays, secret plots, and familial bonds. It sounds Shakespearean because it is, but it is also deeply rooted in fa’a Samoa, grounding this classic story of chiefly inheritance in the familial and political hierarchy of the Matai system.

Matai is a system of chieftainship, in which the chief represents and has a responsibility to the village, the land, and the family. The structure of the family (‘āiga) is deeply important to this system, whereby the village may be seen as an interconnection of extended families.

The hierarchy in Pili’s family is made immediately and abundantly clear by Tony de Goldi and Mark McEntyre’s set design, which displays the many levels of the house, and director Natano Keni’s staging, which pays meticulous attention to who is allowed to ascend to the upper levels, and when.

Familial and political hierarchies mirror one another. There are clear rules everyone must follow according to their position, and rituals and procedures that must be honoured. Power over the wider society (the village) can only be achieved by gaining power within the family.

O le Pepelo is a satisfying morality tale. It draws on the archetypal and the epic to fuel its intimate story. It blends traditional modes of theatre with a few physical, almost surreal sequences. The dialogue is sharp and considered.

The first act is somewhat bloated by over-exposition early on, slowing down the pace to give us backstory which seemed important at the time, but on reflection could have been cut.

This is a shame because the second act is an absolute firecracker. It brings together the themes and character arcs so beautifully, while rollicking on at an electric pace.

Laced cleverly throughout the story is a nuanced discussion of identity. It is set in Samoa’s recent past as the nation struggles with its identity as a sovereign state in a globalized, modernizing world.

Cara Louise Waretini’s costumes symbolize the push-and-pull between tradition and modernity. Each character wears a mix of traditionally Samoan and modern (aka Western) garb.

Pili represents absolute tradition. The upholding of old hierarchies at any cost, a strict observation of class status, and a privileging of customary rights.

Filipo wonderfully plays him with utmost conviction and self-aggrandisement, while also allowing us to feel sympathy for Pili. He is, of course, a dying man eager to hold on to his days of glory. Afraid of the changes a new generation of leaders will bring.

Vailoloto (Ana Corbett), the daughter, represents absolute modernity. Sent to New Zealand at age 11, she returns home at the start of the story to see her dying father, and in the hopes of taking his place.

Corbett’s mannerisms and costume immediately set her apart from the rest of the family. Wily and cunning, she is tied to capitalist success by the kiwifruit orchard she runs with her aunt (contrasted with her brother’s struggling chicken farm).

She disrupts traditional class hierarchies with her engagement to the new hired-help Masina (Andy Tilo-Faiaoga), and gender hierarchies with her relentless ambition to be the next chief.

She is contrasted with Afinamumū (Taofi Nehemia) who is trapped by her gender. Wife of Matagi (Haanz Fa’avae-Jackson), the son, she is relegated to the important but invisible position of head of the servants and can only achieve power (and liberation) through her husband.

The tension culminates in the second act, which centres around Pili’s desire to eat the sacred fish – turtle – which the counsel has banned for conservation purposes.

But Pili points out not only that it is his traditional right to eat the sacred fish, but that this conservation is only necessary because of the over-fishing brought to the island with colonization.

Tradition, in this work, is shown as hierarchical and sometimes arbitrary, invoked in the name of ego and greed, but also meaningful and connective. Modernity, on the other hand, is shown as democratic. Breaking down hierarchies, but also as a force of colonization, and equally self-serving.

O le Pepelo forces us to consider these nuances and ambiguities without providing an easy answer. Though Pili is certainly the villain of the piece, he is also right in that neither of his children seem fit to lead.

Selfishness abounds in all directions, and the turtle is only one of its victims. The show asks us what tradition means in a post-colonial world.

How can we untangle the complex knot of cultural, social, and personal identities? When should we privilege individualism, and when collectivism? When is it best to serve others, and when is it best to serve yourself?

There is so much to praise about this production, from Jennifer Lal’s gorgeous lighting to the strong performances across the board. The text is rich with meaning, such that I have only captured one aspect of it here.

O le Pepelo, le Gaoi, ma le Pala’ai is vibrant, moving, thought-provoking and a must-see.

Erin O’Flaherty

O le Pepelo, le Gaoi, ma le Pala’ai – The Liar, the Thief and the Coward

ASB Waterfront Theatre

5-23 March 2024

Tickets are available HERE.