“The Car“

Reviewer: Selina Chong
Performance: 7 July 2017

Verena Tay’s The Car is about a girl recollecting her growing years, exploring her relationship with her late father through ‘conversations’ with his beloved car. The Car is an emotionally charged ride: there are moments where you can almost feel the wind in your face, while other moments you feel as if your feet are leaden and your heart could cease. Throughout, there is love: the love amongst family, the love we demonstrate and the love we receive, love which elevates us and love which breaks our hearts.

Faizal Abdullah, who plays Car, has the unenviable task of literally personifying a piece of junk. While Car had its glory days, through most of the play, we see it as a sort of Creature to Father’s Frankenstein – a collection of parts held together by spit and goodwill. I was struck by how rusty Abdullah’s voice was rendered – kudos to Ryann Othniel Seng for exceptional sound design. The team also engaged dancer Lee Mun Wai to choreograph movements for Car. I enjoyed very much the physical subtlety with which Abdullah played Car; there were moments I expected to hear creaking joints as Abdullah lowered himself gingerly into ‘Drive’ mode.

The set is simple: stacked cardboard boxes Girl dismantles throughout the play, a physical manifestation of how her world must feel like it is being reshaped as she confronts her past to better understand her relationship with her father. The acting is strong throughout. As Car ages, Abdullah’s expressions casually transformed from a just-cocky-enough sneer to empathetic observer through the ages. Each actor also has to toggle between roles, and they do this effortlessly. In particular, Julie Wee’s portrayal of an eager Datsun drew giggles from the audience.

At the heart of The Car are three relationships: Girl-Father, Girl-Car, and Father-Car. Despite being only an hour, the production explores each of these three relationships deeply. Girl’s relationship with Father made me wonder if all girls have daddy issues; Girl’s relationship with Car represents for me the ugly side of love, when we act out in anger because we are smarting from what we perceive to be a lack of love; Father’s relationship with Car had me thinking about how much easier it is for some of us to demonstrate affection for objects than people. Essentially, the three relationships reflect to me my own perspectives about love. I left the show in a deeply reflective mood and will continue to chew over some of these ideas for some time.

Before the show, I had the privilege of speaking with Sabrina, a member of the Our Company team behind this production. She shared that everyone involved in the company has a full-time job and manages their production in their free time. In other words, Our Company is a labour of love. It is passionate teams like that which inspire me; these are encouraging times for theatre in Singapore.

“Mooncakes and sexcapades“

Reviewer: Walter Chan
Performance: 15 October 2015

Our Company’s third production falters with a lackluster script.

Now it should be said, right at the outset, that I have deep-seated reservations about devised theatre. (This is a form of theatre that creates the performance through rehearsals and improvisation.) Too often, the end product falls horrifically short of the sum of all efforts.

As is this case too.

The premise for Jonathan, David & Me is deceptively simple, safe and best of all, heartwarming. The friendship of three men, charted from secondary school to adulthood.

Can’t go wrong with that, right?

Wrong.

The plot begins with Jonathan breaking the news of his engagement to his two friends (David and Mervyn, who functions as the narrator), but grinds to a halt just as Angela’s name (Mervyn’s ex) is mentioned. We then see numerous flashbacks – in non-chronological order to boot – that detail the start of their friendship in secondary school, growing apart during their time in the army, and then meeting up at different points of adulthood. The two subplots – David and Saul from the Bible, as well as The Epic of Gilgamesh, are interspersed between scenes to add more oomph to the story.

But the only thing they add is confusion. It’s hard enough to keep track of the main story between Jonathan, David and Mervyn – that plot alone has more twists than a pot of fusilli! Their version of “bro talk” jumps from mooncakes and sexcapades, to dating each other’s exes and (accidentally) calling her a “hand-me-down”.

Ouch.

Nevertheless, to have this story stand alongside the other two legends only serves to highlight its meagerness. The script somehow enjoys wallowing in its toilet humour, while the physical humour is weak at best. In addition, the anecdotes verge on being too middle-class and self-indulgent (and this is also reflected among the audience members, who are decked in office wear – you make the connection). The most fatal flaw, however, is that friendship is rationalised between the three friends as a transaction (the “I’m here for you so in the future you have to be there for me” vibe that somehow lingers throughout the entire show).

So, with a script this lackluster, there’s really no point in trying to dissect the rest of the performance in detail. The actors showed their inexperience – some even forgot their lines! – and the set design had a curious detail of having peanuts lining the perimeter of the set, serving no functional purpose to the play. Of course there’s the crude “secondary school literature analysis” reading of “peanuts as metaphor for male friendship”, but I’d like to think that the production team can assume that us viewers are a little more sophisticated than that.

Altogether, this production seemed paradoxically complicated and simplistic at the same time. Chart it down to inexperience – there is much room for improvement.

“What Matters?“

Reviewer: Gabriel Lim
Performance: 17 October 2015, 3pm

If friendship is peanuts, it has to be in limitless supply. And when you crack each peanut, you will always find peanuts of different sizes, and sometimes, nothing. It is easy to crack them, but the results are unpredictable.

As cheesy as this sound, Our Company successfully pulls off the production Jonathan, David & Me as an honest, nostalgic and poignant piece. It questions the volatility of friendship and leaves me slightly envious of the trials of the three friends, Jonathan (Vignesh Singh), David (Jamie Shawn Tan) & Mervyn (KS Yeo).

Two stories run parallel during the show – Jonathan and Mervyn confronting David for his illicit affair with a 19-year-old; and the story of Gilgamesh & Enkidu. The Goddess Aruru created Enkidu to get rid of Gilgamesh for being arrogant. The plot takes on a humorous tone, battling out in a slow-motion Kungfu showdown. They end up best friends, and go about slaying monsters. In the process, they offend the gods, and a curse befalls onto Enkidu. While coping with the loss of his best friend, Gilgamesh goes on a journey to find immortality, only to have those plans foiled.

This ancient story analogises the adventures of the three friends. As Mervyn narrates their friendship, tracing it from teenage life to adulthood, I find myself reflecting on what is yet to come in my life. What kind of friendship should I actively pursue?

Lighting & set designer Manuel Garrido creates an irregularly-shaped quadrilateral space, surrounded by peanuts, and the actors cleverly work within the space with minimal props. Altogether, director & playwright Luke Kwek stitches all the elements of this devised work into a personal yet relatable piece.

Jonathan, David & Me is not for every audience member. It can come across cliché, glorifying the idealistic notion of friendships. This is Our Company’s third production since 2013. I am fairly pleased with it and I look forward to new works from them.