“我和我和他和他 (Me² vs He²)”

Reviewer: Yong Yoke Kay
Performance: 23 February 2019

Cruel and profound. Such is the fate of two characters, Shen Mo (Wang Zezhou) and Jian Ru Jing (Long Luqian), who are about to meet to discuss a merger of their companies. Unbeknownst to their current selves, they once shared a tumultuous past that was erased completely from both of their memories in a car accident. Along the way, both are haunted by the nine-year younger version of themselves (young Shen Mo played by Gao Qikai, and young Jian Ru Jing played by Li Danni), who seek to attain closure from the decisions they had made as lovers. As the plot unfolds over three hours, the two personas are forced to face the repercussions of their life choices.

To restage Me² vs He² too is a brave choice (it was probably not mere coincidence that KECD last staged this play nine years ago), but consequences must be borne.

The advantage of this choice was clear: Stan Lai’s well-written script means that the text itself could move the play along. Lines are mostly delivered on beat, and the audience seems to be enthralled by the punchlines and caricatures.

However, emotional commitment to the characters is not sustained throughout, as some of the more nuanced parts play out mechanically. The emotional touchpoints from the script never quite turn out as expected, save for the embrace between the present Jian Ru Jing and Shen Mo towards the end. Unfortunately, right after the embrace, the sincerity of the characters’ emotions are betrayed once again, leaving this reviewer wishing for more displays of such genuineness.

Perhaps confusion at some points of the play has, in part, to do with the set and lighting design. This is especially noticeable during the transitory scenes, where attempts to bring out the complex layers of space and time become merely an exhibition of aesthetic staging elements. It is a pity that these frills are not reined in more, as the story shines the most when told economically. One such example is the hotel room scene, where the juxtaposition of the characters’ rooms and circumstances cleverly and succinctly mirror the parallels of the characters.

Overall, a production of such quality is not often found in school productions, and it is commendable that the cast maintain their stamina throughout. It is just a pity that attempts to make the script come alive on stage are met with some crucial misses. With fuller embodiment of the text and characters, as well as tighter control over the scenes, Shen Mo and Jian Ru Jing’s struggles and fears, decisions and memories of self and love would come through.

Nonetheless, it is an encouraging sign for a student-led Chinese theatre group to take on a demanding script, and to witness strong support, evidenced by the thunderous applause, from the student-heavy audience. The reviewer hopes that KECD will continue to keep up the good effort.

“A Bloody Mess“

Reviewer: Cordelia Lee
Performance: 23 February 2017

NUS King Edward VII Hall’s staging of David Christner’s This Blood’s For You, is at best a failed attempt at dark comedy.

It is, at worst, a complete farce.

Producer Nathaniel Lim promises his audience a provocative piece highlighting the ethical implications of capital punishment and the rights to organ donation. All hopes for a stimulating discussion on ethics are dashed the moment the cast opens their mouths.

Their struggle to speak in an African-American vernacular is apparent. What eventually emerges is an unfortunate mutant hybrid of the vernacular and locally accented Singaporean English. As the play progresses, the cast increasingly lapses into the latter and partially breaks out of character.

“…lift the praying to me, Charlie.” Wan Liang Xiang, who plays Father John, confidently announces at the dinner table. He is blatantly unaware of his slip in accent, but the audience catches it, and a snigger is heard. Annabel Teo, who is casted as Sherry James, the mother of a convicted man, neither speaks nor walks like an older woman. She rambles her lines with the energy of a petulant teenager, accompanying them with exaggerated gestures as she flits from place to place. Evidently, it is Teo we see on stage, not Sherry.

Scenes are painfully static, burdened with continuous chains of dialogue and minimal movement.

Pairs of actors automatically throw out their lines after receiving a response. The process is almost mechanical, and devoid of emotion. No real relationship is established or conveyed to the audience, and character motivation is told but not shown. Conversations become an absolute chore to listen to.

All scenes in the cell follow the same laborious pattern. Someone enters to visit Charlie James (Dylan Ng). They sit, they stand, they shuffle a few steps to the left or right. They pause, they realise their lines are done, they leave the cell.

Lights down, lights up, repeat. If you’re lucky, the new visitor gets upset and bangs the table.

The presence of three aerial microphones above centre stage further limits physical movement, and is more of a hindrance than a help. The cast never steers too far from them, possibly for fear of being inaudible. Unfortunately, being mic’d up comes with a price. As the voices amplify, they also echo through the space and interfere with the clarity of speech. Investing in vocal projection classes instead of aerial microphones is something the team should consider for future performances.

Despite seven months of preparations, the cast comes off as unorganised and uncommitted to staying in character. It renders the performance amateurish, distracting the audience and preventing them from internalising the content and subtext in the onstage dialogues. The ineptitude of an inexperienced cast could perhaps be forgiven, but the consequences remain. The flimsy illusion of the fictional realm is jeopardised, and they have lost the attention of their audience.

To charge $23 a ticket for This Blood’s For You, is clearly daylight robbery.

Now someone should definitely be charged for that.