“Heart Matter”

Reviewer: Gloria Ho
Performance: 13 September 2015, 3pm

Love is nothing more than a series of chemical reactions. We have all heard this proposition before. Cleverly using this as a premise, The Effect delves deep into the heart of matter – both literally and metaphorically.

The Effect is centered on a clinical trial where participants Tristan (Johnson Chong) and Connie (Krissy Jesudason) are guinea pigs for a new drug. Coincidentally or otherwise, as the prescribed dosage increases, they gradually fall for each other. Together with them, we are forced to question whether the feelings are genuine or just a side-effect of the drug (also coined as “Viagra of the heart”). Unavoidably, the long-standing mind-body argument and dualism enter the fray. Additionally, another heavy discussion parallels: is depression a mere chemical imbalance of the brain that can be alleviated by medication or is it a complex condition caused by external factors?

Couch Theatre makes an applaudable choice for their annual production, recognizing that the stigma of mental illness still permeates through our society today. The intended purpose of this choice, however, loses clarity with seemingly half-hearted efforts in presenting this dense play written by British playwright Lucy Prebble.

Take for example the character of Dr James (Chio Su Ping), researcher of the experiment trial. Dr James is able to go about her daily work and life normally, despite her diagnosis of depression. She reveals her inner insecurities through a notable, well-delivered monologue towards the end. Instead of capitalizing on this notion of normalcy by appearance, the production perpetuates the very stereotypical perceptions of people labelled with mental illness that Dr. James finds ludicrous.

In all, a little more careful consideration and bold choices could have, in effect, made this a much more intriguing, engaging and impactful piece.

“Buckets of tears“

Reviewer: Gloria Ho
Performance: 29 August 2015

December Rains is melodramatic, and then some. Hopeless romantic Chen Li Qing gets together with charismatic and popular student Zhou Ying Xiong (yes, his name literally means ‘hero’), with the help of her best friend – who also happens to be her secret admirer – Zhang Ming Li. Naturally, Li Qing and Ying Xiong are driven apart by Li Qing’s disapproving parents. Ming Li then withholds Li Qing’s letter disclosing that she is *dramatic pause* pregnant with Ying Xiong’s child as Ying Xiong sails off to China to pursue his ambitions.

Adding to this unoriginal and hackneyed plot are the acutely impoverished characters. The reason behind why Korean dramas continue to enjoy high viewership, despite their tacky storyline, is because of the characterizations. These television soaps present fleshed out characters with complex psychological landscapes, dynamic chemistry and believable relationships with one another. Unfortunately, none of the listed factors are present in this musical. The characters’ motives and motivations remain shallow; their actions mostly emotional reactions to the event-driven plot and meaningful communications snuffed out for a poorly constructed series of misunderstandings.

The musical numbers are catchy tunes but they cannot save this trite and corny plot. The strong 18-member supporting cast is also woefully underused. More often than not, their presence appears to be scene-fillers, creating a mini, visually-pleasing spectacle (hint: think wedding ballroom, school, shipping port and airport).

December Rains totters between a television soap and a pop concert, but having the entertainment value of neither. This reviewer’s word of advice is to purchase the CD soundtrack instead – not only it is more economic, it also encapsulates the experience comme il faut.

“My Struggle: Moments Later“

Reviewer: Gloria Ho
Performance: 18 July 2015

I have to say, I have never “struggled” this much in play/performance.

While I am eager to be acquainted with The Struggle through this play, moments after entering the theatre, I begin to get second thoughts.

Yang Shi Bin is seated on a chair beside a radio player and he engages in a light-hearted conversation with fellow cast members (notably of a younger generation) Chong Woon Yong, Doreen Toh and Felix Hung. This is a beautiful image – the younger generation spending time with the previous generation and finding out more about what has come before.

Regretfully, this beautiful moment is intentionally obscured by the low voices and the obstructed view. After a while, the audience revert to their own private groups chatter, muttering, “nothing is happening” and “haven’t start yet”.

A significant portion of the play is shrouded in a thick & dreary silence. I am not too sure about Okorn-Kuo Jing Hong’s Noh-worthy speed of walking in the background either; no doubt it requires great discipline and technique. Perhaps it is in these silent interludes where there is space for reflection – on commentaries projected on the wall and on repeated lines such as “we only see one side of things, and not the other perspective”.  However, this becomes problematic when the excessively long silences are badly paced and instead of being poignant, they become distracting.

The lighting also poses great problems. The light-emitting table stresses the creative space and impulse of the original “STRUGGLE” but the intense light from that one source is trying for the audiences’ eyes. On one hand, I do like how this cast deep shadows on the actors face, alluding to the dark internal conflicts of their times. On the other, it is undeniably strenuous on the eyes.

This heavily retrospective take on the struggles of Singaporeans, enslaved by the rapidly changing environment and circumstances of the industrialisation days, reduces the emphasis on Kuo’s active representation of the issue.

To this reviewer, this particular approach does not work. This play is an apparent result of a younger generation’s struggle to understand the struggle of Kuo’s time. Consequently, we are ensnared in a similar struggle, one which we have not signed up for.

“Quarter mark“

Reviewer: Gloria Ho
Performance: 20 June 2015

29 cast members, 8 families, 3 spoken languages, 2 days, 1 quarter.

Quarters, as its name suggests, is inspired by the multi-racial, multi-cultural, communal living in Public Utilities Board (PUB) staff quarters in 1970s Singapore. In commemoration of SG50, this production essentially spans over two days – the eve and National Day itself. With this unique setting, Avant Theatre brings back waves of nostalgia for the early days of independence and ‘kampong’ spirit. Days when Malay, Singapore’s national language, is commonly spoken and bridged the different ethnic communities.

Despite its massive potential, the almost 3-hour production falls short of delivering more than a smidgen of it. Remaining largely melodramatic, it focuses on quibbles and gossips arising from a range of chaotic scenes. These include episodes involving loan sharks to drunken neighbors to catching a snake to hunting for lost jewelry. Each “crisis” is neatly resolved without much need for unity and collaboration amongst residents.

Director G Selva has done a commendable job in the blockings of the large cast – transitions and groupings are kept neat. The director could have focused on inter-community communications which are brief and delivered less smoothly.

I understand the need to direct audience’s attention on certain bits of conversation, the consequent ‘mute chatting’ is a bit unsettling. The actors are more than capable of keeping their chatter volume down, and this can create a more engaging atmosphere and experience for us.

The 2-storey set is beautifully constructed; complete with 8 housing units and two fully-furnished shops. There are many technical and staging inconsistencies that distracted the audience. For instance, the fluorescent lights along the corridor are only switched on after day break and are left on through the day despite bright ‘sun rays’; and the interior of the units appear to be in perpetual darkness.

There was certainly no lack of community spirit in the production. Many people in the audience seem to be related to the actors, cheering when a familiar face steps on stage. Likewise, the actors clearly enjoy themselves on-stage, playing to the audience. This is a production with a lot of heart, just not a lot of art.

“History according to the Dollies“

Reviewer: Gloria Ho
Performance: 12 June 2015

A cup full of sequins, a dash of quick-witted puns and a pinch of sociopolitical commentary are just some of the main ingredients found in this steaming Dim Sum Dollies production.  Throw in the myriad of flashy costumes, extensive (2D) set pieces, disco lighting, a live band.  Of course there is the highly-energetic dance routines faultlessly executed by the sextet – Loh Mai Guys.

Dim Sum Dollies : The History of Singapore Part 1 returns for a re-run after its successful debut back in 2007. We retrace major periods from Sang Nila Utama’s discovery of this little island to the “Nanyang” period when opium dens and brothels were common to the early independent days of Singapore.

In Dim Sum Dollies’ version of history, the shtick is the juxtaposing of elements from different eras forming little vignettes – often to hilarious effect. Sang Nila Utama meets a modern sales person; Rickshaw pullers encounter a parking attendant – the juxtapositions do present interesting viewpoints. While most work, some feel strangely misplaced (like the Irish missionaries disciplining a Singlish-speaking, pinafore-wearing school girl).

The joyous chemistry that Selena Tan, Pam Oei, Denise Tan and Hossan Leong exhibit manages to excite and keep the audience in suspense.  Individually, each Dollie (I think Leong qualifies as an honourary Dollie) demonstrate versatility and command a strong stage presence. Collectively, they complement each other without stealing anyone’s limelight.

The main draw of a Dim Sum Dollies show is surely the easily recognized local jibs and references. The mischievous plays on acronyms, nudge-in-ribs references to local sentiments, to issues such as MRT breakdowns and witty comments made in dialects may have disoriented, excluded the foreigners but these delight the locals.

The lightning quick costume and set changes are impressive and help maintain the brisk pace of the production. The production ran like clockwork – with Selena Tan incorporating the cleaning up of the streamers into her own segment – a brilliant move.

The sociopolitical commentaries are, however, weak. They are amusing but do no more than to remind us and reinforce what we know. Perhaps it is time for the Dim Sum Dollies to relook at their formula and whip up something with more bite.

“Public (Image) Enemy”

Reviewer: Gloria Ho
Performance: 17 April 2015

“Truth must not be the servant to money.” To those who believe in this notion, you may be a public enemy.

Public Enemy, W!LD RICE’s first production in its imagiNATION season, is a powerful and thought-provoking play which discusses a few sociopolitical issues from herd mentality to unthinking submission to authority . It also confronts issues of legacy and the next generation and contains a strong critique of the media.

Gone are the colorful and elaborate set and costumes characteristic of W!LD RICE’s productions. Yet, the monochromic designs were not any less attention-grabbing. We are constantly reminded of the existence of the grey area between black and white.

The transitions between sets are well-orchestrated, well-timed and they effectively mark the different locations. Due to the fast-paced nature of the production, the loud and intense music during transitions did not seem wise. The music became more disruptive than ‘alienating’ in the Brechtian sense. There wasn’t sufficient space in between scenes to collect our thoughts or reflect.

By placing the ensemble or chorus members on the second floor and bringing up the house lights, Director Goei creates an immersive experience during the speech scene. This simple strategy directly implicates the Victoria Theatre audience as the “majority-is-always-right” crowd that Dr Chee berates.

I think it is unfortunate that the supporting female characters, performed by two very competent actors, are side-lined in favour of a male-led discussion. Harrower’s translation present the Chee family women as underdeveloped and lacking internal depths. Catherine Chee’s (played by Serene Chen) abrupt switch from being overly protective of her family’s material well-being to unwavering supporter of Dr. Chee remains puzzling.

Overall, Public Enemy is a bold production and is worth watching. For a start, it offers a platform for us to rethink the values of various long withstanding ideas said to uphold the ‘common good’. It would be better if the directions were less confrontational and allowed room for subtlety; room for us to exercise our imagiNATION.

“Grooving to a new beat”

Reviewer: Gloria Ho
Performance: 27 March 2015

Pioneer (Girls) Generation [PGG] shatters any notions we might have of senior citizens being frail, conservative individuals helplessly waiting for death. The sassy seniors in PGG have no qualms voicing their opinions and stand unafraid to fight for what they believe in.

More importantly, they are always game for some fun.

Set in a top class retirement village in Singapore, PGG offers a glimpse to a world where seniors live together with their friends in a luxurious environment. All seems well and happy with the seniors enjoying their bit of freedom and free medication until the management declares a raise in rental fees without seeking the residents’ opinions. Paula (Catherine Sng), objecting to the exorbitant rental fees, moves out to a similar but more affordable retirement home in Johor Bahru. Paula’s flat mates Bob (Thomas Lim), Marilyn (Padma Sagaram) and Susie (Irene Ong) come up with a plan to coax their friend back.

PGG is a devised effort by the cast neatly crafted into a linear piece by The Necessary Stage’s resident playwright, Haresh Sharma. There is regrettably little development throughout the fairly predictable storyline [spanning 100 minutes in performance time].

Despite tripping over some of their lines, the seniors never fail to throw us all into roars of laughter. The song and dance routines are not exceptional but the sincerity emanating from the cast during the performance do capture our hearts.

The young supporting duo Dwayne Lau and Audrey Luo played multiple characters including a Filipino manager [complete with accent] and a scheming Chinese lady. These characters created many laugh out loud moments throughout this comedy piece. Other than that, the many one dimensional stereotypes grow tiresome quickly.

Performed in the intimate space of the National Museum of Singapore’s Gallery Theatre, I question the use of wireless microphones. Not only because I feel that the actors can handle voice projection but also, the volume control and levels are problematic whenever an actor raises his/her voice.

Alvin Tan and Haresh Sharma have created a light-hearted production showcasing members of TNS’s Theatre for Seniors. It is heartening to see seniors being active, opening and engaged.

“Bearable”

Reviewer: Gloria Ho
Performance: 14 March 2015

“Cannot anyhow take other people’s belongings understand? Must always ask permission first!”

Sometimes, it is difficult to verbally explain the need to adhere to morals. Most of the time, wise words go unheeded. This is where short, illustrative and memorable fairytales come into play. Through the original story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears, young readers are taught the important moral and social rule of respecting others’ possessions and space.

There is no doubt that all the young members of the audience are familiar with the story of Goldilocks as they recognize and eagerly point out to their parents the bowls of porridge set on the table and the bears’ chairs on stage.

The Little Company, a division of The Singapore Repertory Theatre, first staged Goldilocks and the Three Bears in English in 2013. Goldilocks is restaged in Mandarin this time around – without English surtitles. Parents who intend to bring their little ones, especially if they have yet to receive much exposure to Mandarin, must be prepared to translate and explain the storyline as it strays from the original version.

I am most disappointed that the redeveloped storyline had not brought out the moral(s) to be learnt, despite including it in the programme booklet’s synopsis. Goldilocks (Vanessa Phang) screams incessantly upon being discovered by the bears (playing up to the children), this refashioned character shows no remorse over the trouble she has caused.

The young audience members enthusiastically repeat after words whenever prompted: collectively giving a resounding response of “不可以 (No)!” when Goldilocks asks them if she should enter the bears’ house. This constant call-and response, while interactive and lively, makes it difficult to make out what Goldilocks is saying.

The set is colorful, detailed and the transitions are smooth. The lighting designer, Gabriel Chan, has also done a good job supporting the set. The costumes are questionable. The jumpsuit with fur , the orange socks and sneakers work but the actors not wearing orange gloves or shirt seem a little inconsistent.

If you are looking for a fun time out with your child and bobbing along catchy songs and dance, Goldilocks will do the trick. Apart from that, you’re better off with an educational programme on television.

“Untitled Loss“

Reviewer: Gloria Ho
Performance: 23 January 2015

The intimate black box space is still filled with audience chatter as Sharda Harrison and Bani Haykal stroll in. The audience hushes as it ‘eavesdrops’ on their casual conversation – a chat between an actor waiting to perform as a cow and a sound designer. If you are expecting an easy and light-hearted 70 minutes, you will be in for a rude shock.

Charged with a flurry of powerful, raw emotions and a patchwork of myths and narratives within vague contexts, you either stay alert and keep swift pace with the morphing mental landscapes or you fall defeated and leave the theatre utterly confused.

Untitled Women is a double-bill selection of The Necessary Stage’s early works – untitled cow number one (2000) and untitled women number one (2001). In sync with this year’s M1 Singapore Fringe Festival’s theme of art and loss, these two plays explore our experience of loss and its various manifestations.

As the stage lights signal the start of untitled cow, my attention was first drawn to the stark difference in costumes – Haykal’s black Teater Ekamatra tee shirt and gray pants in contrast to the striking, red one-piece with intricate patterns worn by Harrison. It suggests how people grappling with loss often mark themselves differently through an outward display of grief. Harrison’s intense and strong psycho-physical performance builds on to this notion. On the other extreme, others respond to grief with a muted disposition as evidenced when Haykal prepares a bowl of water for the ritual while sporadically and passively looking on at the vessel of torment.

I was, however, unable follow the emotional journey and transformation of the cow’s 12 days of mourning. It seemed to me like a non-stop display of anguish and self-reproach which lead to its collapse from ‘exhaustion’ at the end. I had hoped for more subtleties and distinguishing between the different mourning phases.

In untitled women, Edith Podesta and Ethel Yap take on multiple roles – their versatility in shifting and establishing the different dynamics between the characters in each short narrative is to be applauded. While it is left to the audience to constantly construct a context for each vignette, it is not difficult for the audience to connect characters to their respective moments. Podesta successfully draws laughter from the audience thus breaking the heavy atmosphere with her sometimes outlandish switch between costumes and characterization.

The set is a wonderful illustrative complement to the unfolding sense of loss. Comprising 5 ramps, it visually depicts how loss throws us off balance – where it is easier to slide down the spiral of grief than to climb up and rise above the pain.

If connection leads to loss and grief, could the loss of connection also be a gain?

While people may choose to disconnect in times of loss, I feel that it is loss that connects us humans in a way which words do not.