From a special correspondent: The Play

Having been recruited by Goodnewsguy to perform an artistic mission in a very wet Wellington, I made the long drive to the capital to attend the preview of the new play at Downstage Theatre: The December Brother by the SEEyD theatre group. I had protested to GNG: I didn't want to contribute to the macabre commercialisation of a real tragedy that had been espoused by the hate sites with such vulgar glee. Goodnewsguy resorted to pressure, and I realised that this was a mission I could not refuse. GNG supplied me with fake noses aplenty, and a blue-rinse wig: assuring me I would blend in better with the audience thus attired. I was skeptical: didn't sound like Wellington theatre-goer attire to me. But I brought the disguise with me just in case. As it turned out, the best disguise was a warm coat, scarf and glass of pinot...

The theatre obviously had concerns: there were large warning signs on the way in that some content might offend. In the bar there were easily eavesdroppable conversations revealing prejudices: particularly a discussion of the recently shown documentary by some people who actually seem to have taken it seriously! I almost left: what was I doing there? But the words of Goodnewsguy about the yearning need of the hate-siters for a glimpse at the play made me persevere: this was in their best interests.

The play was...interesting. And good, actually, though exploitative of a very real situation. The writer and main actor, Tim Spite, had something to say that was worth hearing.

Part 1 (true: labled as non-fiction) was about the writer's father, Tony Spite, who was adopted: his story of finding his birth parents. The search was started in 1994 by his daughter, who said something in passing about not wanting to find you're related to the Bains (the case being all over the papers at the time).

Part 2 (labled as 'fiction non fiction') was an enactment of the murders at Every st: first from the perspective of David as cold, callous murderer, then from Robin as murderer remorseful after the event. Some details were wrong - they had gone for silliness of Robin changing specifically for the murders, for example. But it was a reasonably fair depiction of the event drawn from evidence from each side.

Part 3 (labelled as fiction) was the most interesting act, supposedly pulling the two stories together. A woman finds she's adopted and sets out to find her birth family: her birth mother turns out to be a Margaret Bain analog. A couple have been murdered, and their son, Cain, is locked up for it. The mother had been hit over head with frying pan (wiped, only son's fingerprints), while the father committed suicide by car exhaust through hosepipe. This act gives lots of exposure of the fixed tunnel vision of the police in the investigation of Cain's case, and of selective use or distortion of evidence; together with Cain's portrayal of his mother/parents as normal and wholesome. This portrait not true as discovered when the adopted sister is given the mother's diary to read. Realising Cain has lied to her, she challenges him...and you realise he was merely trying to maintain some privacy. There was a dig, which I enjoyed, at a pompous self-important psychiatrist pontificating about Freudian interpretations of the case showing Cain to be guilty, but then admitting he's never met the son, merely read the evidence. A staunch advocate for Cain, convinced of Cain's innocence is rather unsympathetically portrayed: apparently putting words in Cain's mouth, persuading Cain of his parents' marital difficulties... Until you realise that the whole evidence shows him to be right. An interchange between the advocate and the solicitor culminates in an exchange about truth being nothing to do with anything: justice under the adversarial system is a game to be won. Which got a rather cynical laugh from the audience.

The core message was that without knowing all the detail, you cannot and should not judge. There was an implicit but clear condemnation of the media approach to the Bain trial, and to David Bain since the trial.

As the crowd spilled out onto the cold, wet street after the play finished, there were some snippets to be overheard: the reviewer from Victoria Univesity's Salient, regretting that the play hadn't 'taken a stance'. A woman with an American accent discussing jars of rotten preserves. A middle-aged couple grumbling about the male nudity. A couple of older men saying that 'it's all in the fingerprints'. And one girl saying to her parents: "But it's not fair! Why are the papers allowed to do it when he was found innocent? Why are they so mean?"

So Goodnewsguy has his wig and noses returned unused. They would not have been out of place in parts of the audience, but they were a minority. Goodnewsguy will, I hope, be pleased with me: he was right, it is in the hate-siter's best interests.