“Lost Soul”

Reviewer: Walter Chan
Performance: 7 May 2015

The Lady does not age well.

Punchlines are the pay-offs in comedy and satire. For this performance, I wait and wait for the punchline.

And I wait.

The house lights come on and it is the end of the performance. To say that I am dismayed is a massive understatement.

As an undergraduate who is intimately familiar with Tan Tarn How’s original playtext, The Lady of Soul and Her Ultimate ‘S’ Machine, I have high expectations for this re-staging. Politically naughty yet at the same time unflinchingly honest, it is not difficult to see why this script was scrutinized by the censors before its premier was allowed. Although to director Zizi Azah Abdul Majid’s credit, she does update the 20-plus year old script with references to the recent Thaipusam public holiday episode and rewording the religious reference to “The Father, Son and the Ho-Lee”.

Despite these efforts, The Lady of Soul has not aged well. The puns on Singapore’s hierarchical power structure with words like “acting” and “vice” feel old and stale. Lines like “welcoming with open arms and open legs” while not unfunny, feel decidedly dated.

However, the production has some highlights, namely the standout performances from Rizman Putra (in drag) and Gene Sha Rudyn who plays the minister to megalomaniacal perfection, in an appropriately epic style. Rizman Putra, on the other hand, piles on the sass and flirtatious energy in his rendition of Mdm Soh. Strutting, mincing and prancing around the stage, his sweaty muscular physique performs the double-standards that the play criticizes.

Nevertheless, Zizi’s direction for this play feels rather trivial at times, never moving beyond a superficial treatment of Tan’s text. From the reduction of Les and Chris to the infantile bimbo stereotype, to the repeated (and convenient) use of shadows within a set that was no more than a white elephant: enormous yet under-utilised. The political humour, is way too banal: the all-white outfits for the entire cast fairly obvious and uninspired. The portrayals of protagonists Paul and Derek are astonishingly unconvincing as well, almost as non-descript as their outfits.

I have mixed feelings for this rendition of a Singapore theatre classic. I guess part of the problem comes from the fact that political theatre is always topical, but political critique always changes with the times. Despite that, The Lady of Soul is a play that deserves more re-stagings and re-readings, because it is as much a historical artifact as it is a political one.

“Tan’s Soul-Searching Play Still Relevant Today”

Reviewer: Isaac Tan
Performance: 7 May 2015

With the nation’s jubilee celebrations a few months away, the organisers would definitely pull out all the stops to show Singapore at its best, most energetic, and most vibrant.

But what does a vibrant nation look like? That is the same question facing Derek, a civil servant in Tan Tarn How’s Lady of Soul and Her Ultimate ‘S’ Machine. Through a madcap journey in search for what provides a nation its soul, Derek has to choose from three extreme choices.

In the end, he is left with his own choice: should he propose what the authorities want to hear or what he thinks is right?

Unlike previous plays with political themes, the sophistication of Tan’s writing lie in his ability to deliver hard-hitting criticisms without having its characters engage in ponderous debates. Additionally, the satire which pokes fun at bureaucratic inefficiency and the government’s tendency to prescribe something that develops organically still resonate today.

Director Zizi Azah showcases her creative soul by restaging this classic in a heightened reality with a slight sci-fi feel. Despite the small space, she manages to contain all the larger-than-life characters with their various antics well.

This reviewer also appreciates the updated references in the play that make the production current. “Father, the Son, and the Holy Goh” is changed to Ho-Lee” done with a huge nod and wink. Also, Derek informing the minister that the various sub-committees will take a break during Thaipusam, rather than Deepavali, is a cheeky reference to netizens petitioning the government to recognise it as a public holiday.

While the characters are not meant to be fully fleshed out, kudos go to Prem John (Derek) and Crispian Chan (Paul, minister of state and Derek’s lover) for having an onstage chemistry which makes their shared past and covert relationship believable. That said, Prem John does have a studied approach to his character which occasionally results in a monotonous delivery of his lines. This is most obvious when he is trying to convince the Minister of Culture to accept his proposal.

Gene Shah Rudyn is absolutely comfortable in his role as the Minister for Culture. Every wide smile and snappy wave of his hand to silence everyone is on point. While Lian Sutton (Alban, the communist who thinks propaganda is what gives a country its soul) and Farez Najid (Sham, the artist who proposes absolute freedom) have great stage presence, their portrayals of the stock characters are not consistent.

Of course, Rizman Putra’s Madame Soh is unforgettable with a gold sequinned dress, giant angel wings, and one too many pelvic thrusts. His musical background helped to keep the otherwise unpolished vaudeville sections afloat.

While Paul’s suggestion of telling the public that “soul is very difficult to cultivate” is meant to reinforce the status quo, it has a kernel of truth. It has been almost twenty-five years since the play was written but its message is still very relevant today.

Hence, it is most fitting that Tan’s soul-searching play opens on the same day as the publication of Corrie Tan’s article calling for our arts policies to “win hearts.”