“One need not be a chamber to be haunted.”

Reviewer: Christian W. Huber
Performance: 8 November 2018, 9.30pm

As part of the Singapore Writer’s Festival’s Late Night series, The Ghost in your Head is a multi-sensorial encounter with dead writers, literary villains and heroines. It invites viewers to immerse themselves in the experience at The Arts House, a wonderful venue for a piece like this: nothing screams eerie more than when you’re one of a few people wandering the halls of a historical house in the dead of night.

The established thespians in this play are more than capable of engaging the attention of the travelling audience members in the various rooms of the space, and inhabit their characters’ quirky mannerisms well. But for this immersive experience to work, it requires the audience to have at least some knowledge of the texts featured. Moreover, the production should make clear the role it expects the audience to take.

As we are ushered into the Blue Room for a scene titled “Miss Havisham and the Mad Tea Party”, we are enticed to partake in delectable sweets – ranging from muffins, macarons, cupcakes, and tea – while waiting for the arrival of the hostess. Once Miss Havisham arrives, dressed in a veiled wedding gown, the audience hushes up, expecting some form of performance. She walks around, plays some music on a gramophone, offers sweets to some of the audience members, and from time to time sprouts out quotes from Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations (where her character belongs), and Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland. Apart from these sporadic quotes, she waits. As do we. For Godot? One is not sure.

We are eventually told by the roving staff that we can ask the “ghost” questions. Complete cluelessness ensues, as audience members scramble to come up with something to ask, or wait in anticipation for something else to happen. After a smattering of vague questions – and more awkwardness from both camps – the doors open, and we’re free to exit the room.

Fortunately, some of other scenes fare better. The art installation piece in The Chamber, titled “Soundtracks of the Unseen”, invites audience members to speak lines from Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights and Tang Xianyu’s The Peony Pavilion into microphones, which are then looped and manipulated to become otherworldly sounds. This is played as a soundtrack to an ongoing video of abstract scenes. Kudos to sonic alchemist – Mervin Wong – in helping to send the message that some lines can get caught in your head.

Perhaps a more restricted audience count (the crowded rooms lose intimacy with the spirits) and better organisation (the pre-briefing caused delays in some of the installation start times and inevitably delayed the end times) would have made The Ghost in Your Head a smoother and more rewarding experience, rather than just an eerie waste of time.

“We didn’t start the fire…”

Reviewer: Christian W. Huber
Performance: 13 September 2018

Celebrating its 30^th anniversary, Teater Ekamatra has staged one of the strongest theatrical experiences seen by this reviewer so far this year. Helmed by its artistic director Mohd Fared Jainal, and penned by prominent English and Malay language playwright, poet and short story writer, Alfian Sa’at, Tiger of Malaya is a very strong, funny, and powerful piece. It looks into one’s history, and reinterprets it through the eyes of a new generation of artists who are mindful not too stray too far away from the original intentions of the material – in this case, a 1943 Japanese propaganda film.

A play-within-a play concept works for this piece thanks to its no-frills approach. The set is kept as a black box, and you get to see the actors prepare on stage. The original movie is projected on movable white screens as the artists reinterpret the scenes simultaneously. The staging is simple, but it takes some very good coordination with the production team to ensure that all cues and effects are timed to the very second, which earns this reviewer’s respect.

Strong performances by the cast showcase the characters far better, and not to mention much more authentically, than the movie did (the film had Japanese actors playing Malay characters in brownface). Over the course of the play, the three Singaporean and two Japanese artistes respectfully bring about their cultural differences, as well as the confusion about their understanding of their countries’ history of the Second World War. The cast members have good synergy, and their repartee in between the re-enactments are entertaining throughout the 90-minute piece.

The only bugbear is a scene where the three Singaporean artistes sit and interrogate the Japanese artiste’s re-interpretation of the film, which parallels a recent episode between a historian and one of the men in white’s high-handed questioning of alternative views of history. Whilst showcasing subversion, it feels unnecessary and is a sequence that this reviewer could have done without.

Nonetheless, Tiger of Malaya is a thought provoking and relevant piece in today’s society, and it is a saving grace in the rather ‘ho hum’ productions this reviewer has seen this year.

“Where is the love?”

Reviewer: Christian W. Huber
Performance: 26 July 2018

TheatreWorks’ Writers Laboratory has been a long-time incubation programme aimed at nurturing and encouraging local writing. As part of this effort, TheatreWorks opens its new “Because I Love You” season with an original work from the lab. However, it could have done with further tightening and simplification before its rather polished treatment on stage.

13.13.13, written by Shen Tan, explores the institution of marriage in this day and age between two couples. The first is a traditional one between a man and a woman who are happy to live without the legality of a marriage contract, (along with a specific clause of having no children so they can enjoy their lives together). The second is a non-traditional one between two female professionals that yearn for the day that their union can be recognized legally and socially.

Tan’s piece raises many the question of the validity of marriage in today’s context. It is provocative, though some editing will help in this long 95-minute piece that drags its way to its denouement.

Sometimes, polishing the production too much has its disadvantages. And it feels this way with this piece, where this reviewer feels that a simpler more naturalistic staging can be more effective.

The use of different types of staging devices, such as multi-media (which assists the audience in visualizing some of the back stories of the characters but is not completely necessary), sometimes feel included just for the sake of it being “visually engaging”.  The set is interesting in its use of white elastic cables on the stage which defines different rooms in an apartment which can be manipulated by the performers to show how space affects their lives.  These moments are interesting visually, but extremely obstructive and irritating to the viewer trying to catch what happens on stage. The weakness in this production is the complete unnecessity of microphoning the performers in a black box space (which defeats the purpose of allowing them to use their voices naturally to carry the story effectively). The mic-ing makes this reviewer struggle to engage with the piece.

This misguided direction by Tan Shou Chen – as his first outing on a mainstage production in Singapore – has some good ensemble moments though. The cast and their chemistry does find some truth in some of the larger moments of truth in the ‘less means more’ staging (e.g. Thomas Pang’s monologue towards the end of the play with his friend’s spirit overseeing him as he speaks), though this was far and few between.

Perhaps with more subtlety and less devices to wow the overall experience of this piece, the performers would rely on a more honest way to ‘find the love’, as would also the audience.

“Play it again, Sam.”

Reviewer: Christian W. Huber
Performance: 24 May 2018

Whilst sitting on the outdoor grounds of Fort Canning Park waiting for the commencement of Singapore Repertory Theatre’s Shakespeare in the Park production of Julius Caesar, this reviewer is reminded of watching a baseball match live at a stadium. It is not so much about catching the game itself, but it’s an event for friends to gather and socialise over snacks and drinks.

However, in this instance, it is very clear once the drama begins that you’re there for the the play itself, too. Ideally staged at a heritage park with a hauntingly dark history, the piece effectively rouses the spirits as patrons are immediately swept into the drama unfolding onstage. The action takes place against the city lights, with the occasional revving of sports cars bragging its rights down the main road, and sirens going off to tackle an emergency. But even though these external elements are occasionally distracting, the audience remains generally attentive and engaged by the political chaos, bloodshed and horror that ensue after the main character’s assassination. “Let slip the dogs of war,” as Mark Anthony succinctly prophesises.

Directed by seasoned British director Guy Unsworth, this updated and very ‘now’ version of the production is bold. It stars a cast of largely local and Malaysian artists – a mixture of veterans and upcoming talents. The lead performers are generally strong (Julie Wee as Cassius and Daniel Jenkins as Casca deserve special mention for their wonderful managing of the text and its rhythm), but the diction of the more inexperienced supporting actors do make for an uneven performance for this reviewer. However, these grouses are few and far between.

The clever use of multimedia helps to communicate the chaos and fickleness of the people of R.O.M.E., a seven-nation coalition whose leaders have gathered for a summit. Whilst it feels a bit too TV-like at times for this reviewer, it is engaging overall. Watching Brutus’ and Mark Anthony’s speech (the one that begins with “Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears…”) being played out on screens in real time highlights how easily public opinion can change in an instant.

There are not many productions out there that allows one to enjoy a picnic with friends whilst experiencing great storytelling at the same time. It is kudos to SRT for taking on the mammoth task of bringing back Shakespeare in the Park, what with the logistics and high costs involved. Even though it has now become a biennial (rather than annual) event, it still provides a platform for creative talents to continue to capture and present Shakespeare’s universal themes, and ensure that his works remain relevant and thought-provoking to the young generation of the times.

“The truth is out there”

Reviewer: Christian W. Huber
Performance: 27 May 2018

Entering the cold theatre auditorium to witness a production of John Pielmeier’s Agnes of God, this reviewer is puzzled that there are only about 20 audience members in the 388-seat theatre on the final performance. But Desert Wine’s effort to perform in a more professional environment is valiant, and far more deserving of bums on seats than other amateur productions of late.

Dr. Martha Livingstone (Tan Rui Shen) is a court appointed psychiatrist determined to assess the mental stability of Sister Agnes (Lee Jie Ying), a young nun accused of killing her secret newborn child. However, Agnes denies the existence of the child and says that the police had made the whole story up. She is fiercely protected by Mother Miriam Ruth (Tanya Ang), who views Agnes as a rare innocent who is exceptionally close to God. The play goes on with wordy debates between faith and science, and makes the audience choose whose truth they want to believe.

It’s clear that the power of the script trumps all other elements, and the no-frills staging works fine for a company on a tight budget. The minimalist set features Agnes’ simple room in the nunnery on stage right and Livingstone’s office on stage left. Sound and lighting design are kept simple.

With respectable performing credits in other productions, the three actors try their best to perform in front of a sparse auditorium. Tan is too young to play a psychiatrist going through menopause, and Ang is way too young to play a Mother Superior who has grandkids, however their commitment to the piece helps bring some believability to them. Lee’s age best matches that of her character and she brings out the innocence and naivety of Agnes well in the first half, but she is not as convincing when portraying the raw, damaged, and sexually abused side of her character during the hypnosis scenes in Act Two.

An interesting directorial choice is the use of a ‘double’ for Agnes during the hypnosis scene – where Lee reenacts what had happened at the convent, while another actor playing the ‘double’ remains in the doctor’s office miming what she feels in the convent through body convulsions. It is an effective and engaging way to stage this scene, and succeeds in making this reviewer feel unsettled.

That this production has the ability to give this reviewer goosebumps shows that this mystery/thriller can still engage, and sometimes, less is more.

But that the show was only attended by a handful of people is a crying shame.

“Caveat emptor.”

Reviewer: Christian W. Huber
Performance: 17 May 2018

Marketed as a cross between stylish American period TV series Mad Men and docu-style comedy The Office, The Consultant by Heidi Schreck is the play Wag the Dog Theatre chose as its sophomoric outing. Set shortly after the global financial crisis of 2008, it leads the audience on a rather pointless journey of office shenanigans in a pharmaceutical advertising agency.

Set in New York, the play presents the workday lives of four people trying to balance their paychecks with their personal aspirations and troubles. After a serious meltdown during an ad pitch presentation, Jun Suk (a rather sedate Mark Seow) is given the chance to make amends when the company hires a consultant, Amelia (a quirky Deborah Hoon) to help improve his presentational skills. However, she is only a graduate student, and without any substantial coaching experience, she aims to train Jun Suk with the help of a single book on negotiation that she borrowed from the local library. He agrees reluctantly, and therein the comedy ensues.

The piece lacks much in plot, and more in character development. Its only saving grace is the witty dialogue, and the way that Amelia helps Jun Suk present better has some genuine ‘ha-ha’ moments. Otherwise, Schreck’s characters amount to merely portraits that never really go anywhere – their circumstances change, but their personalities and understanding of the world do not. The television style of writing does not work well on stage, while the unnecessary interval spoiled the momentum of this 80-minute piece, and dragged out the tedium of the performance.

Apart from usual first night jitters of a preview performance – including technical issues, gaffes and mistimed punchlines – the actors’ various styles of delivery also make it a discomforting experience from the get go. Hoon and Seow use rather neutral accents, which don’t gel with the awful Americanized accents by the other characters (from Krissy Jesudason’s irritating Brooklyn accent, to Sean Worrall’s middling Mid-American, to the OTT one of Susie Penrice Tyrie in what thankfully was a small role), and makes for a very unevenly paced and disengaging performance.

Wag the Dog Theatre prides itself in being Singapore’s first theatre co-op theatre, which aims to produce “high quality performances on the leanest of budgets” according to its Facebook page. Its inaugural show last year received respectable responses from the audience, but it’s somehow deflated a bit with the ‘am-dram’ (amateur dramatics) feel of this production. This reviewer hopes for better days ahead for them, as there is much that a group of artists can offer with good material and heart, without it coming across as a vanity project that lacks soul.