Buttons In The Bread

(Photo: Cake Theatrical Productions)

Event: “One Day in this Place” by Cake Theatrical Productions (as part of The Esplanade’s “The Studios”)
Venue: Esplanade Theatre Studio
Run: 11th – 13th Apr ’13

Come Together

How does one go about attempting to dissect a Cake Theatre work?

I’ve probably only ever attended two other Cake productions before (“Decimal Points 7.7” last year and “Desire at the Melancholic String Concert” in 2011), so while I was unable to recognise the cameos of characters from past Cake productions in this play, I was somewhat mentally prepared for the kind of theatre I was about to experience.

Truth be told, “One Day in this Place” turned out to be far more accessible and relatable than I had imagined.

This show is the debut production of “In A Decade”, the training playground initiated by Cake as a platform for young emerging theatre practitioners to hone their skills and explore their theatrical aspirations, and features Andrea Ang, Chia Jia Yan, Faizal Abdullah, Luke Kwek, Gloria Ng, Ong Chin Hwee, Brian Bartholomew Tan, Ellison Tan, Michelle Tan, Nicholas Tee and Alexandre Thio as performers.

The play is set in a hypothetical “place” and chronicles the conflicts and struggles that arise when diverse individuals have to come together and learn to coexist with one another in a limited space.

From the onset it is apparent that the play bears the familiar quirky hallmarks of a Cake production, replete with surrealistic elements and perverse juxtapositions.

There is the cleaner, wearing red pom poms on his head, who gets violently thrashed by passers-by to the backdrop of Elton John’s “Can You Feel The Love Tonight?” (did I also spot the Velveteen Rabbit soft toy somewhere in the mix?), the Minister who walks around with a noose round his neck and speaks in a strangely creepy way, the book-wielding dictator in shades who stands atop a high pedestal, a seemingly random sequence of local ethnic dances performed one after another, an office scene where employees all sit on toilet bowls, and even a scene depicting two giant-headed pandas conversing with each other.

Almost like scenes from your weird-but-not-exactly-that-scary nightmares.

Things seemed to take awhile to get going, but after the first twenty minutes or so it started to become apparent that this “place” as depicted in the play is none other than our own homeland Singapore.

From there onwards things started to become a bit more digestible, and each scene started to make a bit more sense.

The play touched on many pertinent local issues such as locals vs foreigners, censorship, the stimulating of creativity and productivity in the workplace, domestic helpers and their boyfriends, homosexuality, foreign workers dormitories, and so on.

I found a strong sense of resonance in some of the scenes, such as the one where the Authority continually repeats its stand of disapproval, while the people on the ground rise up to protest, only to find themselves not being able to make a sound despite mouthing the words rigorously.

Another was the depiction of how everyone has become so caught up in the fast pace of life, resulting in people being extremely high-strung and irritable.

As things wore on it became more and more apparent what the play was driving at, but in the same instance, the play was also in danger of becoming too literal and too preachy, which seemed to go against the grain of the Cake style of presentation.

There seemed to be a rather strong moralistic slant to the proceedings, and while the Dali-ish elements were still very much present in many of the scenes, at times things seemed so accessible you could be forgiven for thinking “Wait, how come I’m actually getting so much of this? This IS Cake theatre, isn’t it?”

I was particularly enthralled by the performances of Andrea Ang, Nicholas Tee, and Luke Kwek, who exhibited great range and versatility, although a few others such as Michelle Tan were notable as well.

Ultimately, the play leaves you with a disconcerting warning which is constantly repeated throughout the play, and that is that “you can be anything, (but) don’t be like us”, a stark reminder of the path on which we seem to be headed down and what would happen to our society if we don’t do something about it soon enough.

Kudos to Cake Theatre and In A Decade for such a revitalising and energetic piece of work, and for essentially holding up the proverbial mirror aimed squarely at our faces.

(picture courtesy of WILD RICE Ltd)

Event: Oscar Wilde’s “The Importance of Being Earnest” presented by W!ld Rice
Venue: Drama Centre Theatre
Run: 10th Apr – 4th May 2013

Men United

Much has been made of W!ld Rice’s rather bold yet delightful staging of the Oscar Wilde classic “The Importance of Being Earnest” back in March/April 2009, which subsequently garnered the production three awards at the 2010 Life! Theatre Awards – Best Production, Best Supporting Actor (Chua Enlai) and Best Costume Design (Frederick Lee).

The main talking point back then was director Glen Goei’s rather innovative idea of using an all-male cast for the production, which raised quite a few eyebrows at that time.

However, mainly due to the sheer calibre of the assembled cast, the bold gamble paid dividends and the production went on to garner many a favourable review in the press and theatre community.

Four years on, and W!ld Rice has decided to revisit this gem of a production, a popular farcical comedy about two friends attempting to create fictitious alter egos so as to escape social rigidity.

Oscar Wilde was well known for his wit, and this play is full of the incredibly witty lines which he was particularly remembered for.

Fans who missed the ’09 production might be pleased to know that the ’13 production remains relatively unaltered, save for the role of Rev Canon Chasuble, formerly played by Zahim Albakri and now played by Lim Kay Siu.

Also, the renown T’ang Quartet, which provided exquisite musical accompaniment back in ’09, is now replaced by The Ensemble Dimension Players, which manages to hold its own in its renditions of familiar favourites such as Bach’s “Air on the G String” as well as the Prelude from his Cello Suite No. 1 (a solo piece played valiantly by the cellist in between Acts 2 and 3).

All the familiar touches are there from the original production, such as the opening sequence where the actors casually saunter about in jeans and crisp white shirts – some going out amongst the audience offering them cucumber sandwiches on a tin tray, others remaining onstage admiring the string quartet rendering a mixture of Baroque and Classical pieces before the play actually begins in earnest.

It seems W!ld Rice has taken great pains to give the entire evening a distinctively Victorian feel, what with sophisticated little touches such as the live string quartet and the cucumber sandwiches, and this definitely added to the experience and enjoyment of the play.

The star-studded cast, as you would expect, once again delivers the goods impeccably and one would be hard-pressed to pick out any particular actor who stood out from the rest.

Ivan Heng, in his resplendent red and black suits, is in his element once again as the formidable Lady Bracknell, and commands the stage like few others can. (His dramatic half-pirouette in itself towards the end of Act 1 was something to behold.)

Daniel York, as John Worthing, is always highly engaging and seems to play the conflicted sympathetic characters very well.

The two young “female” roles of Gwendolyn Fairfax and Cecily Cardew are once again taken on ably by the ever-exuberant Chua Enlai and Gavin Yap respectively, although it seems to me that their interpretations of the two young ladies this time round were more consciously masculine and with deeper vocal projections than the last time round, although I can’t be entirely certain of this.

And while the adage “if it ain’t broke don’t fix it” certainly seems to come into play in this instance, it is the high similarity of this production to the original one that might perhaps slightly disappoint those who are looking to be surprised or thrilled by the introduction of possible new elements into this production.

Nonetheless, comparisons aside, as a stand-alone production, W!ld Rice’s “The Importance of Being Earnest” remains a largely faultless and thoroughly enjoyable romp through one Wilde’s most popular works, replete with dazzling outfits and sophisticated ensemble music harkening back to the Victorian era.

And given the company’s seemingly natural affinity and effortless flair in the interpretation of his works, you wonder if they might soon consider naming themselves W!lde Rice instead.

Event: “8 Women” presented by Sing’Theatre
Venue: SOTA Drama Theatre
Run: 29th Mar – 7th Apr 2013

Lovely Ladies

One might be forgiven for confusing this play with the other play about eight women currently running at the Drama Centre Theatre (“The Bride Always Knocks Twice”), and taking into account also Nine Years Theatre’s staging of “Twelve Angry Men” less than two months ago, as well as an all-male “The Importance of Being Earnest” cast by W!ld Rice later this month, you wonder if this trend of staging plays with large numbers of mono-gender actors is starting to become some cute local theatrical fad of sorts.

But I jest.

“8 Women”, based on the 2002 French-Italian film, which was in turn based on Robert Thomas’s 1961 play “Huit Femmes”, is your classic whodunit murder-mystery play, and stars a host of eight remarkable actresses – Tan Kheng Hua, Serene Chen, Neo Swee Lin, Daisy Irani, Julia Abueva, Sophie Wee, Morgane Stroobant and Kimberly Creasman.

The premise is simple enough: The master of the house is found stabbed in the back in his bedroom one morning, and the murder suspect could only have come from one of the eight women who were present in the house at that point in time.

And as the play progresses, each of the eight characters starts to have her deep dark secrets revealed, further thickening the plot and leading the viewer to believe that any of the eight women could perhaps have been the murderer.

Having never seen the film nor heard of the story before, I viewed the play with fresh eyes and ears, and tried my best to form my own conclusions as the story wore on.

I mean, everyone loves the opportunity to have a crack at solving a murder-mystery, and this was no different.

Things were set in motion quickly enough, as we learn of the master’s death within minutes of the play’s opening.

At once our senses are heightened, and the whodunit starts to get into the full swing of things.

Plot-wise, it felt to me like the play tended to move laterally most of the time rather than forwards.

For a large part of the play – in fact, almost till the end – I didn’t feel that we got any closer to finding out who the murder suspect could have been.

The play seemed to be more intent on throwing the routine spotlight on each and every character, rather than dropping vital leads to aid the viewer in getting closer to solving the mystery.

And neither did the play seem to try to lead you down the garden path by misleading you into suspecting any one character in particular, as some whodunits might do.

As such, there came a point, especially in the second act, where things started to get a bit trying as I was starting to seriously wonder how this entire mystery would be resolved, and if the final reveal would ever live up to all the tedious groundwork that had been painstakingly laid out.

The cast of eight were magnificent to watch, and it is hard to recall if I had seen an all-round ensemble as strong as this one in recent memory.

Serene Chen plays the neurotic hypochondriac sister-in-law to perfection, while Daisy Irani hams it up by playing up her Indian idiosyncrasies to high comedic effect.

Morgane Stroobant was a pleasant surprise as the archetypal seductive French chambermaid, while Neo Swee Lin scores some of the biggest laughs as the Singlish-speaking, semi-wheelchair-bound mother-in-law.

Which brings me to the point about accents: I doubt the multi-ethnic and linguistic element was a deliberate consideration in this play as compared to, say, “The Bride Always Knocks Twice”, and thus I must admit that the disparate accents (e.g. Daisy’s Indian accent, Neo Swee Lin’s Singlish, Kimberly Creasman’s sharp American accent, Morgane Stroobant’s faint French accent, Sophie Wee’s British accent) came across as rather jarring and even disconcerting at points.

For a household of eight closely-related women, it’s hard to see how their accents could all be so disparate.

Julia Abueva, playing the youngest character in the play, easily holds her own and impresses greatly in the role of the younger daughter Catherine in a performance that far belies her youth, although those who’ve seen her in last year’s “Spring Awakening” would be no stranger to the immense talent that this young lady possesses.

A word or two has to be put in for composer and multi-instrumentalist Bani Haykal for masterfully creating the perfect soundscapes for many of the crucial moments in the play largely on his own.

The set by Wong Chee Wai too was a delight in the way it depicted the lush interior of an old country manor, with clever elements such as shifting platforms and frosted window panes to occasionally create deeper elements of suspense.

Overall, was I satisfied with the play’s outcome in the end?

Well, not really.

But then again, it’s hard to imagine how else the play could have been reasonably resolved without seeming too tacky.

Nonetheless, the sheer presence of the eight lovely ladies on stage makes sure that you’d get your money’s worth, regardless of whether the plot twists manage to tickle your fancy or not.

Event: “For Better or For Worse” by Checkpoint Theatre
Venue: Drama Centre Black Box
Run: 20th – 24th March 2013

To Have and To Hold

Never has there been a time where the notion of the sacred institution known as marriage been a more intimidating conundrum than it is today in modern day Singapore.

On the one hand, we see the growing trend of more and more Singaporeans choosing to remain single even as they enter into their mid-30s, and on the other hand, we also see a steady rise in local divorce rates, not to mention the many high profile cases of marital infidelity being splashed across our front pages every other week.

What exactly is this whole marriage shindig all about anyway?

Is it truly the Hollywood-style “happily ever after” fantasy we’ve been led to believe all our lives, or is it merely a series of never-ending daily struggles that drives a person to the brink of insanity?

The answer usually lies somewhere in between, and budding playwright Faith Ng attempts to shed some light and explore the pertinent issues surrounding the complexities that arise when a man and a woman somehow decide to take a vow and spend the rest of their lives together, and maybe produce a kid or two while they’re at it.

Faith Ng is of course well-known for her debut piece “wo(men)”, the full-length play which won her a nomination for Best Original Script at the 2011 Life! Theatre Awards.

“For Better or For Worse”, her latest full-length work, is a 100-minute play directed by Claire Wong, portraying the marriage life of Gerald (played by Julius Foo) and Swen (played by Jean Ng).

It chronicles the highs and lows of their often tumultuous relationship, jumping back and forth in time between the current state where their 24-year-old daughter Samantha is about to get engaged, to back in the early days when they first got together.

Theirs is no ordinary relationship, with enough trials and tribulations along the way to test even the strongest of wills, but then again, rare is the couple who can confidently say that they have never encountered trials and tribulations of their own.

One particular bone of contention that seems to constantly gnaw away at the marriage of Gerald and Swen is the accidental miscarriage of their second child, due to the fact that neither party was aware that Swen was actually pregnant at that point in time.

Their marriage is often a contentious one, and Faith shows great skill in depicting the delicate love-hate balance within the relationship (although a number of the verbal fights were shockingly vulgar).

She is particularly gifted in capturing the Singaporean slice of life while portraying ordinary relationships in their rawest and most relatable form, and at the same time bringing in highly pertinent local issues such as casino gambling, soccer betting, the high costs of getting married, retrenchment, giving tuition, mistresses from China, family squabbles and so on.

One particular scene which deserves honourable mention is the scene where Swen and Gerald start off by happily watching the ending of a soccer match together, which leads to Swen placing a bet against Gerald in jest, which leads to Swen winning her bet, which eventually leads to a full blown fight between the two of them.

I thought the way in which the entire scene was constructed and how it was carried through to the eventual climax was beautifully done.

The chemistry factor between the two actors was extremely high, although it is Jean who truly elevates the play with her outstanding performance.

However, just like in any relationship, “For Better or For Worse” is not without its share of shortcomings.

There didn’t seem to be a weighty enough overarching plot to the play, which made it seem more like a series of sketches which tried to paint you the portrait of Gerald and Swen’s marriage.

And as such, as the play wore on things started to get a bit tedious as the viewer was not so sure if the play was necessarily moving towards an eventual destination, and neither did the play seem to build to any discernible form of climax towards the end.

Also, there were some threads in the play which seemed to beg to be explored but were unfortunately not given adequate attention.

One such example is the theme of Swen’s seemingly firm belief in God in contrast to Gerald’s somewhat nebulous faith.

I thought this particular thread showed some promise at the start of the play, but was somehow not fully explored in the end.

Another is perhaps the aspect of Gerald’s mother and how she used to play such a devastating impact on the couple in their younger days, and how their attitudes towards her had changed as she grew older.

This device of Gerald’s mother could perhaps have been used to greater effect to draw the couple closer towards the end.

Truth be told, at the end of the play I wasn’t exactly sure what to make of the marriage of Gerald and Swen.

Part of me wanted things to work out, but there was also a part of me which wasn’t too optimistic about the chances of their marriage surviving the long term.

There seemed to be one too many unresolved issues within the marriage, and I wasn’t sure if by the end of the play they were any closer to resolving them.

But maybe that was the whole point of the play – not to provide any easy answers, but to shed greater light on the intricacies and complexities of the marriage institution.

And Faith Ng has certainly done so to great effect, giving us an insightful glimpse into what real married life might look like.

It certainly isn’t a pretty picture, but then again this isn’t a Hollywood movie.

Event: “Sisters – The Untold Stories of the Sisters Islands” by Jean Tay
Venue: Play Den @ The Arts House
Run: 13th – 19th March 2013

Divine Secrets of the Mythical Sisterhood

Jean Tay seems to be on a roll lately, with “Boom” being restaged by Sight Lines mid-last year, her new work-in-progress play “Senang” being read at the Goodman Arts Centre two months back, and her play “Sisters” being finally given its first full production this month.

This production is part of The Arts House’s “Literally 9” festival being held this month, which features a whole slew of plays, exhibitions and workshops all based on the theme “Writers Party”.

Some of you might also recall that a very developmental version of “Sisters” was first given a dramatised reading under the auspices of the Esplanade Studios’ RAW series in July 2011, and was also directed by Jeffrey Tan as it is in this current iteration.

(The 2011 version was titled “Between Us – The Untold Stories of Sisters Island”.)

The play juxtaposes two stories in close parallel – one being that of the sisters Mina and Lina upon which the myth of the Sisters Islands is supposedly based on, and the other being the story of the infamous real-life 1960’s murder case involving Sunny Ang and Jenny Cheok, as well as her half-sister Irene.

All roles were handled by Amanda Tee and Cassandra Spykerman, with Amanda playing Jenny, Lina and the Orang Laut, while Cassandra played Irene, Mina, Sunny Ang and Yusuf.

Both actresses were commendable in the way they juggled the various roles, although it was apparent that there were certain roles which they seemed to be more adept in than others.

The way in which the actresses played out the puppet scenes using nothing more than large pieces of cloth with knots tied at one end, bringing the characters vividly to life, was a sight to behold.

The Sunny Ang story seemed to take awhile to get going, as the early stages of the play seemed to dwell mainly on the Mina and Lina myth, but towards the midway point, we began to see both stories hitting their strides while pacing towards their inevitable tragic endings.

For those who may have caught the 2011 RAW version of this play, you may have this slight niggling feeling that this current finished production seems to be a watered down version of the developmental version.

My recollections are hazy at best, but it seems to me that in this version, the bonds of sisterhood between Mina/Lina and Jenny/Irene weren’t as distinctly brought out as compared to the 2011 one.

The 2011 version seemed to be a much more lengthy production, and while this production comes up trumps in terms of concision, you can’t help but wonder if the themes of sisterhood, love and sacrifice may have been somewhat diluted as a result of the streamlining.

I do remember being much more drawn into the tragic tale of sisterly sacrifice at the hands of the evil pirate, as well as the disturbing case involving the incredibly charming but scheming Sunny Ang in the 2011 version.

Also, I was pondering over the parallels between the two stories – apart from the obvious common strain of sibling relations and the fatal conclusions, were the two stories really that similar?

Were there true parallels to be drawn between the two stories, or could they just have easily been stand-alone tales?

It is heartening to see that Jean, whom I regard as one of Singapore’s brightest playwrights under the age of 40, is so passionate about telling stories about our heritage and our past through her new plays.

(“Senang” is also inspired by a forgotten tale from Singapore’s past, about the bloody prison riots that took place on Pulau Senang in the 1960’s.)

Indeed, as director Jeffrey Tan says in the programme notes: “I have learnt that if we ourselves don’t tell our stories, nobody else will.”

I truly think that there is great potential in “Sisters”, if only the right mix can be found in balancing concision with bringing out the full beauty and strength of this most intriguing of bonds known as Sisterhood.