Dog tells the story of an elderly war veteran facing down his own mortality after the death of his beloved pet dog, Toyoda. Unfortunately, it felt as though it was suffering from its own identity issues. Though it seems to have been written as a black comedy (the promotional material, the central conceit, the multitude of jokes and whimsical subplots would suggest so at least) this production seems to deliberately play against it.

Written by Ben Hutchison, a member of Wellington’s now-defunct musical comedy outfit The Lonesome Buckwhips, upon entering the theatre we bear witness to Nev (Mick Innes), cradling his dead dog, on the couch of his brilliantly realised unit. Set designer Kenah Trusewich and props master Rick Cave, have done exceptional work here. They’ve brilliantly realised the kind of well-worn pensioner’s unit I’m sure all of us have visited before. The stage is divided in two parts. The majority is a realistically dressed living room replete with wall mounted war memorabilia and the kind ravaged couch, dog-owners are sure to relate to. Off to the right though we’re shown the garden, perched up on an elevated rostra, never allowing us to forget the play’s inescapable end-game. That something’s going to have to be buried.

We meet Nev’s young flatmate Olivia (Shavaughn Ruakere) and learn of his wish to play the dead dog its favourite song twenty-one times in place of a the proper twenty-one gun salute he feels it deserves. We’re soon introduced to Warwick, the idiotic but well-intentioned neighbour, played with impressive comedic tenacity by Gareth Williams. From there we follow the three as they negotiate the dead dog’s funeral rites and get to know each other and their various failings.

Shavaughn Ruakere’s Olivia acts as though she’s in the deep end of the autistic spectrum, acting with such self-seriousness that flies in the face of and often undercuts the humour in the script. Throwaway lines are often delivered with bizarre sincerity. An example comes toward the end of the play when Warwick pitches his ludicrous ‘meals on wheels in heels’ scheme. Instead of capitalising on the comedic premise with her reaction, Ruakere gently and earnestly dismisses the idea. Jeff Szusterman certainly sets a tone, but it’s so one-note that the play tends to drag, especially through the second act and ultimately this creates a massive roadblock. There’s a dissonance here between the extremely naturalistic feel of most of the acting and the absurdity of the script. When the play nears its end and pitches toward pathos, it feels a little empty because the empathy hasn’t really been built up. The characters are so wooden and withdrawn that the snap into the plays climax is results in a fizzle rather than a bang.

I can’t help but feel that the talent working to bring Dog to life must have been on different wavelengths at some point through the production process or indeed the script’s extensive development. I’m certain there’s a great play in there somewhere but I don’t think this iteration quite hits the mark.

Dog plays at Basement Theatre from 19– 30 August
8pm | 75 mins
Tickets available through iTicket

See also:
Paul Simei-Barton for New Zealand Herald
Stephen Austin for Theatreview
Matt Baker for Theatre Scenes