“Daring to dream for your child with autism”

Reviewer: Alisa Maya Ravindran
Performance: 4 June 2016

“There is no dream for Josh” is a line from Falling that gestures towards the multitude of complications in raising and living with a child with autism. The 18-year-old Josh, though cognitively child-like, is a big, grown man with violent tendencies. At times, this proves too much for his mother, who is played by the pint-sized Tan Kheng Hua, to handle. Falling discusses how an autistic person can also be a sexual being even though he/she he behaves like a young child. The play also explores how one can love someone greatly, even if you fear they are a threat to your safety. These paradoxes are complex, but the cast addresses these issues with just the right amount of humour.

Andrew Marko’s portrayal of Josh is uncanny, from the speech patterns, gestures, mannerisms and even his walk. In particular, his interaction with Tan, who is at the receiving end of most of his violent outbursts, poignantly reminds the audience of how far-reaching a mother’s love is, no matter how hard your child pushes you away.  The image of Josh pinning his mother against the wall under a hanging calendar that showcases an image of Jesus, is a powerful symbol of the daily tussle with faith that Tan’s character, Tami, struggles with. Together, the pair is outstanding, and no doubt steals the show.

Nana, Josh’s grandmother (Neo Swee Lin), presents a nuanced and believable picture of an outsider’s response and reaction to the idiosyncrasies of a person with autism.  Lisa, Josh’s sister (Fiona Lim), convincingly fulfills the archetype of the angry teen sibling, although this interesting dimension could be explored more purposefully.

In the final analysis, Falling offers no solutions to the “problem” of Josh’s future. However, the play does tell of hope, the characters’ determination to make the best of their circumstances, and a desire to find joy in the little things. In these ways, the play is authentic in its depiction of the realities of caring for a child with autism.

“The More Loving One”

Reviewer: Alex Foo
Performance: 28 May 2016

First things first, Falling is not a play about autism – that much is clear right from the first line of the director’s message .  The ‘falling’ is a family falling apart and losing control. Perhaps this play is more about coping, portraying how an average family deals with and loves an autistic child.

Andrew Marko plays Josh, the severely autistic child, and convincingly commits to his role, down to the slurred speech and the manifest posturing. Tan Kheng Hua plays the mother, Tami, with gravity and grace, appearing in virtually every scene and soldiering on with a boundless reservoir of patience (mollifying a belligerent child takes on a whole new level). Playwright Deanna Jent’s script raises plenty of uncomfortable questions about the realities of living with a volatile child, and of course, there are no easy answers. As witnesses to these extremely private domestic moments, we are as shocked as Nana (the side-splitting Neo Swee Lin) when we share in her dismay over Josh’s aggression, and equally as powerless. The refrain “I don’t know what to say” is not just the family’s disconsolate utterance, but also that of the audience’s.

The great triumph in Tracie Pang’s direction is probing the emotional implications of Josh’s disability on familial relationships. Tami and Bill (Adrian Pang) clash over their views on sending Billy to a home; Nana begins as the Bible-quoting, prayer-dispensing comic relief but slowly gains understanding; Lisa (Fiona Lim) desires escape and begrudges the prioritization of Josh’s needs over hers. Regrettably, Lim has a less commanding stage presence beside her co-stars, and the opportunity to explore a more complicated relationship with her brother is glossed over for a one-note angst-ridden teenage disdain.

Wong Chee Wai and Chris Chua’s suburban HDB flat functions as both domicile and enclosure. Nana and Lisa have the option of leaving for Australia, Bill teeters close on the precipice of divorce, but it is Tami and Josh who are ‘stuck’ – the former trapped by virtue of her consuming maternal responsibilities, and the latter by his mental affliction.

I am also not so certain if the melodramatic opening number was all that necessary. Surreal, yes. But what deeper point does it make? But there are other more successful sequences, particularly the final scene. As the poet WH Auden would say, “If equal affection cannot be, /Let the more loving one be me.”

“I will catch you”

Reviewer: Lee Min Jie
Performance: 13 May 2016

The  reason why you should catch “Falling”: the authenticity and accuracy in which it captures the reality of a family living with an 18-year-old severely autistic child.

The interior of an apartment is meticulously recreated. Like our homes, every nook and cranny tells a story. The secret cabinet where the father stores his alcohol. The sacrosanct calendar hanging on the wall. The lonesome string that connects to a box full of feathers. Each of them carries a secret only its inhabitants are privy too.

Simple everyday affairs turn into a gargantuan task that requires commitment from the entire family. To get Josh to leave for school, a ritual must be performed. Seemingly commonplace occurrences can potentially spark off Josh’s violent meltdown. Loud noises from a juice blender or the stray dog barking are no-nos. To combat such situations, the family invests in noise-cancelling earphones for Josh and adopts counting down with their fingers in front of him to indicate all-clear.

Living under such stressful conditions inevitably strains family ties and the cast captures this balancing act perfectly. Adrian Pang and Tan Kheng Hua once again prove themselves veterans by effortlessly delivering strong yet nuanced versions of Bill and Tami. Tan especially shines in fleshing out the inner turmoil of a helpless and hapless mother who is at once resilient yet vulnerable.

Andrew Marko is careful and convincing in his portrayal of Josh. Marko immerses Josh in a world where he is oblivious to his surroundings. His tics and twitches are not up to him and consideration is not a concept he understands. He cannot help but strike at his mother. He cannot help but touch himself when he wants to regardless of where he is.

Neo Swee Lin’s Nana is a delight to watch. She never fails to make me laugh with her impeccable comic timing. Especially when she is oblivious to the religious double entendre or when she forgets the code words and hilarity ensues.

The random song sequences bewilder me though. Its presentation is suggestive of it happening in an alternate reality. I can only suspect it represents the unfulfilled dreams and scarifies of the family. Perhaps if Josh was normal, the family will form a rock band?

In a bid to share more about autism, post-show dialogues accompany every show. A rare opportunity to ask or just hear more about autism in Singapore. Do stay if you have the time, the individuals who stand behind the mic on and off stage often have responses that will shape your perspectives.