Troilus and Cressida in Maori is probably one of the pinnacles of human collaborative achievement.
This is a play, written 400 years ago in England by William Shakespeare, based on a poem written by Chaucer 200 years prior- based on events recorded about in Greece 3000 years ago which had transpired about 1000 years before that performed by a company
based 10000 miles away who overlayed the story with their own rich history, again dating back thousands of years.
It was a rare moment indeed and I felt privileged to witness such an event. Of course all of these statistics would have been meaningless if the play had been crap... but it wasn't. In fact, it was ABSOLUTELY FUCKING AMAZING.
From the moment the warriors entered the stage I felt electricity. Warriors from days of old brandished fearsome weapons, negotiations with great chieftains were made, hearts were broken and diabolical war ran amok within the wooden O.
I almost felt the warrior ghosts of ancient Greece move amongst the crowd, summoned by the cries of war and betrayal as the play unfolded. Revealing its secrets like an ancient sage.
Personally, I think the star of the show was Aikiri /Achilles(Matu Ngaropo). A warrior of immense power who COMPLETELY FLEW OFF THE HANDLE when his beloved Patokihi/Patroclus (Rangi Rangitukunoa) turned up dead. At that point, the play's ancient energies became a whirlwind, warping reality and twisting the natural order of all things.
This shit was nothing short of epic.
