“Tortoise Tales“

Reviewer: Jocelyn Chng
Performance: 6 September 2018

Staged as part of the Silver Arts festival, organised by the National Arts Council, Tortoise Tales presents a scenario that is at its core heartwarming and nostalgic. It is about the relationship between a grandmother and grandson, and how the stories told by the grandmother had an important influence on the grandson’s life as he grew up.

However, the piece feels under-developed, resulting in a lack of clarity about what it is trying to say or do. Over the course of the play, the characters relate several stories. And although the idea of stories and the questioning of them is emphasised in the synopsis, not much interrogation actually takes place.

An underlying issue with the work seems to be that it also tries to address the idea of cultural identity, but this is not fully developed or realised. For instance, there are a few references to Hakka culture, but it is not clear why this is an important detail for the creators, since the work is not otherwise framed as one that relates to this culture in particular.

Notably, the fable about the tortoise and the hare referenced in the title stands out because it is the only story related in the play that does not stem from Chinese folklore. Due in part to the inconsistency in the cultural contexts of the tales referenced, the fact that stories seem to play such a key role for the characters feels like a quirk of this particular family rather than something that stems from a deeper cultural source. It is thus difficult to interrogate the cultural value of stories, when the cultural framing of the play is itself unclear.

In the post-show dialogue, we learn that the initial inspiration for the work did indeed surround ideas of identity – specifically of being Hakka (both creators, Chong Gua Khee and Tan Liting, are Hakka), and also Singaporean Chinese. Possibly due to constraints of the festival, the play’s 45-minute duration is not sufficient to fully explore these complex issues.

While there are some humorous moments in the script, the development of the emotional trajectories of both characters is also problematic. The grown grandson’s pestering of his grandmother to tell him stories from his childhood, after not visiting her for a long time, is bewildering. We are not given enough hints (or not given them at the right points) that he is troubled by a bigger conflict, to explain or justify his behaviour. Similarly, the grandmother’s emotional journey is undeveloped; hence her display of emotion at the memory of her now-deceased husband is unconvincing.

Nevertheless, one very strong and engaging device is the use of hand shadow puppetry to mark flashbacks where the grandmother tells bedtime stories to her grandson. This effectively conjures up the nostalgia associated with childhood, and the innocence of the grandmother-grandson relationship. I certainly look forward to the future development of this work into a more focused and nuanced piece.

“Pretty Butches, Walking Down the Fringe“

Reviewer: Cordelia Lee
Performance: 11 January 2017

Five individuals straddle the line between femininity and masculinity in Tan Liting’s latest production, Pretty Butch. All, at some point or another, find themselves under stifling pressure to conform to gender norms. Through a series of painfully honest monologues and intimate dialogues, these characters reveal their internal struggles between remaining true to themselves and acceding to society’s conventions.

The doors to the production open ten minutes late. Bodies clad only in undergarments traipse the dimly lit space, indecisively dressing and undressing themselves with sets of folded clothes spread out on the floor. A soundtrack of haphazard drumming loops for the fifteenth time in the background, and my impatience grows.

I check my playbill to confirm it’s Pretty Butch I’m watching, and not Ming Poon’s Undressing Room.

Ten minutes later, they all find something suitable to wear, and finally proceed with the narrative.

Deonn Yang makes up for the agonisingly slow start by delivering her monologues with near technical precision. Carefully controlling  her breathing and the modulation of her voice at critical points – a slight quaver here, a quick shift in tone there – the enlivens the text with emotions. Remaining firmly centred in all her scenes, Yang anchors her gaze on her audience and speaks directly to them. Her voice is small, but surprisingly steadfast with a hint of childlike sincerity. Her vocal delivery invites the audience to live vicariously through her poignant childhood experiences and heartrending recounts of discrimination faced as a butch.

Her performance feels genuine, unscripted even, and I am impressed.

The other noteworthy performance in the play is Farah Ong’s transformation from butch to pregnant butch. She avoids the stereotypes while anchoring her characterization on the struggles faced by an unconventional expectant mother. Ong throws a tantrum in one scene and crumbles from self-doubt in the next. It looks absolutely exhausting. Yet, she somehow manages to sustain her energy throughout the play, as she takes her audience on an emotional rollercoaster ride. Affection is convincingly conveyed to her onstage partner (Shannen Tan) through the smallest, and almost unnoticeable, gestures. As she holds her gaze a little longer during conversations and casually runs her fingers through Shannen’s hair, I find myself feeling thankful for an onstage intimacy that is neither forced nor awkward.

There is no tiring rant about society’s discrimination against androgynous individuals, and no one slams the patriarchy to prove a point. Pretty Butch does, however, throw out a whole slew of questions to its audience.

What defines a butch? What does manliness entail? Is an expectant butch mother any different from your conventional maternity-dress-wearing mother? If not, why does society mistake her for a pot-bellied uncle who doesn’t require a priority seat on the train?

Although it starts off slow, Pretty Butch redeems itself with a narrative that tastefully challenges commonly held misconceptions about individuals living life on the fringe. It enlightens its audience with new perspectives, and effectively opens up the conversation about gender norms in our otherwise conservative society.