SUPERVISION by Wild Rice

“Maid Live Under Surveillance“

Reviewer: Cordelia Lee
Performance: 13 July 2018

My palms turn numb from 30 seconds of uninterrupted applause. But for the first time, applause alone feels insufficient. I feel my bodyweight shift to my feet as I inch forward, rising from my seat.

It finally happens – my first standing ovation.

Written by local playwright Thomas Lim, Supervision comes after his acclaimed debut play, Grandmother Tongue, played to full houses in 2016 and 2017. Repeating what he does best, Lim approaches macrosocial concerns by exploring the effects they have on a micro level, within the familial sphere. Prevailing anti-foreigner sentiments and misplaced fears about migrant and domestic workers in society have led to wary locals labelling them as a dangerous “other”. Lim encapsulates these tensions through the complex characters and painfully honest dialogue in his script, exploring how this scepticism of the “other” drives local employers to infringe on domestic helpers’ privacy within the home.

Lim’s thought-provoking script materialises beautifully in the theatre, thanks to the production’s strong cast. The 90-minute performance is kept extremely tight. Lines are delivered clearly, rolling out successively without any lags; this makes even the longest dialogues easily digestible for the audience. Umi Kalthum Ismail puts up a noteworthy performance as Yanti, an unassuming Indonesian domestic worker. She effortlessly embodies familiar characteristics of the average domestic worker without falling into the trap of clichés. In addition to maintaining a consistent Indonesian accent, she pays careful attention to her physicality throughout her performance, varying it as her character faces different situations. She scurries with her head bowed in one scene, docile and obedient as Jenny (Janice Koh) sharply beckons her. In contrast, she appears more relaxed when alone with Jenny’s father, Kian Keong (Patrick Teoh), and is respectfully outspoken in their conversations. By layering her character, Umi creates an organic, multifaceted Yanti that leaves an impression on the audience.

Set and multimedia design also aptly complement the play. Regardless of where they are seated around the stage, audience members are unable to view the action unfolding in at least one of the four rooms situated at the corners of the stage. At one point, live footage of Yanti crying in her room plays on the overhead screens as hidden surveillance cameras reveal what is blocked from my view. I inevitably participate in this panoptic gaze by simply watching, and, together with Jenny, become complicit in the invasion of Yanti’s privacy. This unique directorial decision places the audience in an uncomfortable position, actively provoking them to reevaluate the validity of such normative practices in households.

To find a production that hits all the right notes thematically and performatively under two hours is a rarity. To find one that does all of that without a single glitch is to hold up a middle finger to Murphy’s Law. And as impossible as it sounds, Supervision does just that.