Auckland-based writer and actor Hamish Annan is turning a deeply personal and traumatic experience into a provocative piece of theatre. Before We Begin, which debuted at Auckland Pride in 2025, explores themes of consent, intimacy – particularly queer intimacy – and relationships, all through the lens of an experimental, interactive performance.
The impetus for the show came from a shocking violation: Annan discovered he had been secretly filmed during a sexual encounter. “It was a really shitty experience,” he told The Spinoff, describing his reaction to finding a hidden security camera. While he reported the incident to police, he ultimately chose not to pursue the case further. Rather than succumb to shame and silence, Annan has chosen to reclaim the narrative, transforming a deeply unsettling event into a work designed to spark conversation and, crucially, laughter.
The premise of Before We Begin is deceptively simple. Annan describes it as “Taskmaster meets Sex Education,” a description that hints at the show’s unique blend of playful absurdity and serious subject matter. The performance unfolds as a series of escalating “invitations” between Annan and the audience. These invitations, which begin with innocuous gestures like a handshake or a flirtatious social media interaction, gradually increase in intimacy. Importantly, audience participation is entirely voluntary. “The fun of it is that you don’t quite know what you’re volunteering for, but we explore that together,” Annan explains. “It could be a ‘yes’, it could be a ‘maybe’, it could be ‘absolutely not’, and we champion that.”
This approach isn’t merely theatrical; it’s a deliberate exploration of consent itself. The show actively models healthy boundaries and respectful interaction, creating what Auckland Pride audiences have described as one of the safest interactive theatre experiences they’ve encountered. Annan’s intention isn’t to re-traumatize himself by reliving the experience nightly, but rather to use humor and playfulness as a means of practicing emotional vulnerability and fostering more authentic connections.
“The show is actually about the deepening of friendships and to wave a signal to go, ‘hey, this is not OK, and look how much different and better it could be’,” Annan says. He recognizes that conversations around consent are often fraught with discomfort, and he deliberately juxtaposes moments of levity with more challenging explorations of boundaries and power dynamics. “We need to see the dark in order to go, ‘oh wow, there is so much light’.”
Annan’s work often draws inspiration from his own life, but Before We Begin represents a particularly courageous act of self-expression. He acknowledges the vulnerability inherent in sharing such a personal story publicly, admitting he hasn’t even disclosed the details to everyone in his life. However, he believes the potential impact of the show – the opportunity to encourage open dialogue and challenge societal norms – outweighs the personal risk.
The show also addresses a broader issue: the often-unacknowledged prevalence of consent violations, even within communities that pride themselves on inclusivity. Annan notes that queer communities, while often vocal about consent in theory, aren’t immune to problematic behavior. “We’ve had to do a lot of thinking about our own identity and boundaries, so there is a bit of an assumption that these things don’t happen – and yet they do.”
Before We Begin is currently scheduled for a run at Auckland’s Basement Theatre from to , and will then have its Australian premiere at the Adelaide Fringe festival next month. Despite the emotional toll of revisiting this difficult experience, Annan expresses a sense of purpose and even relief. “It feels right and it feels necessary,” he says. “The temptation to let shame and silence rule that story and keep it in and not share it is really strong. But I think if I’m asking the audience to be courageous, there’s an invitation for me to also be courageous.”
Annan, an award-winning theatre maker whose previous work ‘Access’ won the NZ Fringe Touring Award, doesn’t necessarily see the show as achieving “systemic justice” for what happened to him. Instead, he views it as a more profound form of empowerment – a chance to shape the narrative, learn from the experience, and create something meaningful that resonates with others. “That’s quite special, that I have made something that seems to resonate with so many people.”
