Today is the final round of reviews from this year’s Young Critics Programme at Te Ahurei Toi o Tāmaki Auckland Arts Festival. To send them off, Jillian Davey, the programme facilitator reflects on their gumption over the past month.

By Jillian Davey

The kids are alright – my first thought after facilitating a 90-minute workshop with rangatahi on board Auckland Arts Festival’s second iteration of the Young Critics Programme. What started last year as a small, slightly experimental offering has doubled in size for 2026, pulling together eight sharp, curious minds from Tāmaki’s next generation of theatre makers. They arrived with backgrounds spanning widely from acting and devising to dance, directing, and academic study but all shared a willingness to have a crack at something new. Better yet, they came ready to take risks.

We started with the same well-crafted and considered workshop structure from 2025 (many thanks to Tate Foutain and Carla Gordon, the spearheads of YCP) but what became apparent quickly was their need to jump in and make a start. So we let them. Out went “What do you think of when you think about a review?” and in came “Read this review – now tell me what you really think.” Not long after, they were onto their first practice: watch Nathan Joe’s Call Me Ōtautahi (from Homecoming Poems), then take five minutes to jot down thoughts that might make it into a review. They came back with more than thoughts – they came back with near-publishable insights. We tackled tough questions along the way: How do we move past our overly nice Kiwi reviewing style without tearing artists down? How do we write something that’s more than a synopsis with a pull quote? These weren’t throwaway questions – they were tested, debated, and pushed further.

Of course one 90-minute workshop will never cover it all, but they weren’t afraid to give it a go on their own afterwards. Their respective shows chosen, they stuck religiously to the tight turnaround demand. Just like the pros: see a show, draft in 24 hours, a quick one-on-one editing session, and a final submission the next day. It was a sprint – but one they met with energy, curiosity, and a surprising amount of rigour. What’s emerged this year isn’t just a programme that teaches review-writing, though I hope it makes a start. It’s one that invites young people to think critically about their response to art, trust their instincts, and back themselves. There’s confidence building here, alongside craft – a sense that their voices belong in the arts conversation right now. If this is the next generation of critical thinkers coming through the ranks? I’m more than okay with that.

By Jessica Brunt

I had the perfect seats to watch The Visitors on Q Theater's Rangatira stage. I was sitting in the second row to the bottom, which meant for much of the show I was looking up at the actors, with the set design making it so the actors repositioned themselves at various levels throughout the play. On beige rocks rising above the stage, decorated with warm lighting, a pile of pipi shells to the side, and a green bush sitting on top. The green bush highlighted the baroness of the rock and brought focus on the actors,making the stage feel isolated against the packed theatre. Although the actors had this striking set surrounding them, they spent most of the play looking out at a specific point in the distance. I had to fight not to turn my head to see what they were looking at.

What they were looking at was the first fleet of English ships arriving into Sydney Harbour in 1788. The Visitors asks how Indigenous Australians would have reacted when seeing these first English colonisers. The production explores this theme throughout the period of one day, focusing on the experience of watching these boats come to anchor.

In pursuing this idea, playwright Jane Harrison translates this period of history to a modern audience. Although most people know the history of the colonisation of Australia this play chooses a perspective that is often not told, particularly in popular media and history. The Visitors does this by blending cultural elements of First Nations people in Australia, such as the language, protocol and decorations, with recognizable elements like dressing in corporate wear and largely speaking in English. Parts of the play felt like glimpsing into the parliamentary discussions of 18th Century Australia.

The day I saw it, Sean Dow (Gunggandji, Birigubba), the actor who normally plays the character Gary, was unavailable so Associate Director Guy Simon (Birripi Worimi Waddi Waddi Walbunga) stepped in to play the role. In spite of this change Guy Simon embodied this role well. Initially watching him walk out holding a script I was concerned, but eventually I forgot he was even holding it. As the play went on the actors developed a rhythm between each other. Each character represented an area of Sydney that they led and the actors balanced both the discussion of their relationship to the land, and their individual personalities well. A great example that exhibited this successful balance was while referencing their past interactions with early European explorers as reasoning behind their opinions on the boats. The characters Albert (Beau Dean Riley Smith, Wiradjuri, Gamilaraay), Gordon (Stephen Geronimos, Gamilaroi) and Joseph (John Blair, Nucoorilma Gamilaroi) stand at the top of the rocks to retell stories from their encounters with the colonisers. These monologues were some of the most dynamic scenes in the show. The actors were able to highlight the individuality of their characters' lived experiences whilst bringing the audience in to relive the story with them. They did this through movement and tonal shifts and notably through sound. At one point Albert made loud bangs by bringing two wooden boomerang together to mimic the sound of gunshot. The way that characters used language in this play felt intentional and succinct. This was especially impressive considering the actors moved between English, and Dharag and Dharwal.

This show feels energetic despite the set remaining static throughout the 75 minutes. This places the audience in an interesting position. We are watching these characters from the vantage point of hundreds of years in the future, we are supposed to know what happened during this day, in this space, yet the story of these characters is new to us. At times I had to remind myself not to speak, as the actors drew me into this world I wanted to know more about.

Knowing the outcome of these historical events, I went into the play expecting to have an overbearing feeling of devastation. But this was subverted. What Harrison does well is flip the narrative of innate victimhood often placed on indigenous groups. By informing her writing through the oral history of First Nations people she points out the agency behind the decision to be made by this particular group; whether to turn away or to welcome the colonisers. Tears were still shed at the end, but I left with a new understanding of a story that I have been told over and over again.

Forever curious, post-grad student, Basement usher, and Stray Theatre Company executive member, Jessica Brunt is as much at home watching a live dance performance to Pink Floyd as she is Shakespeare. She is passionate about theatre being accessible and breaking barriers of location, cost, or language. (Two of her recent favourites were performances of Romeo and Juliet, first as a fast-paced 1960’s thriller with ATC and then as a traditional, but accessibly located and priced, Shakespeare In The Park offering.) Currently producing a show for Stray Theatre Company, Jess is heading towards a very bright future in theatre and community.