On Purpose
Three wanderers are stuck in a rut. They’ve been trying and failing to write a sketch show for… ever? Yeah, that's good! They're stuck in Purgatory! Caught in a loop of chaos and creation. As their relationship begins to deteriorate, so too does the show - threatening their fragile existence. But can they escape? And how? And if they do escape… where will they go? Heaven? Hell? Your place? The trio soon discover they must put their differences aside and discover their true purpose if they’re to escape. Their purpose: find their purpose.
On Purpose is a strange, lively and deliberately unruly piece of sketch theatre from Time Shivers Productions, a trio who clearly enjoy pushing themselves into chaos just to see what happens. Lachie Oliver-Kerby, Aidan O’Malley and Oscar Fitzgerald have built a show that feels like a fever dream about creativity, friendship and the endless search for meaning. It is absurd, philosophical, silly, occasionally sharp, and always driven by the chemistry of three performers who know exactly how to bounce off one another.
The premise is simple enough: three wanderers are stuck in a limbo where they have been trying to write a sketch show for what feels like eternity. They promise the audience that they will reveal the meaning of life in Act Three. The promise becomes a running joke that shapes the entire performance. Their purgatory is a place where ideas collapse, scenes mutate, and purpose becomes a slippery concept that refuses to stay still.
The staging is minimal but clever. The performers sit and move around a rotating circular platform, dressed in blue coveralls, surrounded on all sides by the audience. The room is boxed in by white backdrops, creating a blank canvas that the trio fill with imagination rather than props. Lighting becomes a major storytelling tool. Michael Goodwin's design uses underlighting, overhead beams and sudden shifts to allude to fire, mark transitions, reveal hidden text and add symbolic weight to moments that might otherwise dissolve into chaos. The lighting feels like a fourth performer, shaping tone and rhythm.
The show jumps between literal and metaphorical ideas with no warning. One moment the trio are debating purpose, the next they are trapped in a sketch about history, then suddenly they are performing a poem, then arguing about whether certain jokes have reached their expiry date. The comedy comes from every direction: physical humour, wordplay, satire, surrealism, character work and moments of pure nonsense. Some sketches land immediately. Others intentionally fall flat, used as commentary on the act of gauging an audience’s tolerance. The trio push boundaries, testing how far they can stretch topics before they snap.
This willingness to experiment is the show’s greatest strength. Time Shivers are not afraid to ask uncomfortable questions. Can comedy be inclusive without losing bite? Can dark topics be approached without trivialising them? Can a sketch show interrogate racism, colonialism or cultural erasure without becoming preachy? The performers do not offer answers. Instead, they treat these questions as playgrounds, exploring them with humour, discomfort and occasional sincerity.
The trio’s dynamic is finely tuned. Oscar Fitzgerald plays the serious one, grounding scenes with intensity and dry delivery. Aidan O’Malley is the boisterous disruptor, gleefully derailing moments and injecting chaos. Lachie Oliver-Kerby is the engine of the show, shifting personas with ease, driving transitions and anchoring the emotional beats. Together, they form a triangle of contrasting energies that keeps the show unpredictable. Their timing is sharp, their rapport effortless and their ability to pivot between tones impressive.
The rotating stage is used cleverly throughout. It becomes a metaphor for repetition, stagnation and the endless cycle of creation. The performers use it to shift scenes, change pace and create visual humour. Combined with the lighting, it transforms the simple setup into a versatile storytelling tool.
Despite the chaos, the show has heart. Beneath the absurdity lies a genuine exploration of purpose. The trio’s fictional purgatory mirrors the real creative limbo artists often inhabit. They question whether purpose is found, invented or irrelevant. They examine the fragility of collaboration, the strain of artistic ambition and the fear of stagnation. These themes appear subtly, woven into jokes and sketches rather than delivered as monologues. The emotional beats are small but sincere, giving the show depth without sacrificing humour.
The pacing is brisk. Sketches flow into one another with momentum, and the runtime feels tight and intentional. The show never drags, even when scenes intentionally derail. The performers maintain control even when pretending to lose it, a skill that requires discipline beneath the chaos.
For newcomers to sketch comedy or experimental theatre, On Purpose is accessible. The trio explain their form, exaggerated motions to maintain clarity and keep the audience engaged through constant shifts. The show feels like an invitation rather than an inside joke. It welcomes confusion, embraces absurdity and encourages laughter even when the meaning is unclear.
Time Shivers Productions has built a reputation for energetic, offbeat work, and On Purpose feels like a natural evolution. It is more ambitious than their earlier projects, more thematically layered and more confident in its absurdity. It is a show that understands its own ridiculousness and uses it to explore something genuine. By the end, the trio have created a show that is playful, inventive, chaotic, thoughtful and full of personality.
On Purpose is a clever, messy, heartfelt piece of absurdist theatre that showcases three performers at the height of their collaborative powers. It is a reminder that comedy can be philosophical, that nonsense can be meaningful and that sometimes the best way to explore purpose is to laugh at the very idea of it.
On Purpose runs from August 4-8 at Auckland’s Basement Theatre. Purchase tickets here.
Review written by Alex Moulton