THE TRANSITION ROOM by Toy Factory Productions

“To transition or to transit?”

Reviewer: Edward Eng
Performance: 21 February 2019

A translucent ellipse gazes like a cloud from the sky of the room. Then a mechanical buzz asks the actors to come onstage.

This is playwright-director Stanley Seah’s idea of purgatory, as billed, although the first 15 minutes of the play feel open-ended enough to suggest some sort of conceit around the idea of ‘transitioning’. Perhaps this is a play hinting at the instability of youth (as suggested by the young actors), or the idea of gender transitioning (says the clinical attire)?

Unfortunately, Toy Factory’s Transition Room carries little beyond the initial idea in terms of script. Its main character, Mike (Christer Jon Aplin), essentially repeats the question, “Why am I here?” through every phase of the Room. Sometimes he asks other questions, like “Why are HDBs so expensive?”, but the effect remains the same.

The answers given are mostly half-hearted and inconsequential. This is fine because it reflects life itself. However, it becomes a real issue when Mike barely seems to care about the answers to his questions. But if we are not meant to care about him, then why make him the sole protagonist?

But the rest of the play is not bad simply because Mike is such an unlikeable character. Dramaturgically, there is little precision in handling ideas of meaning, the self, and purpose. This results in a text that does not tease absurdly or post-dramatically. It is superficially funny because of gags, and not because of any underlying meaning-making. There are also several careless transition scenes that do not shake the metaphysics of the play, and instead elicits random laughs.

The play ends abruptly, after Mike breaks into another superficial pontification. The final point is something about how it matters little what choice he makes, because death equalises. The problem is that there are many far more humanistic plays in existence that reach the same conclusion.

Of the play’s design, Vick Low’s murmuring fridge buzz is interesting but could be put to better use in another play. Similarly, the incidental usage of Tai Zi Feng’s cool-tinged strip lighting to heighten tension does not substitute well for the lack of tension in the text itself.

All that said, the plus point for Transition Room is its supporting cast. The play has unearthed some unexpected gems in its actors by giving them character roles they have made their own. Kaykay Nizam, for instance, has reaffirmed my opinion that he can mesmerise even without having anything meaningful to say. Opposite him, Marc Valentine Chia is a rollicking good time.

Victoria Chen and Jazmine Monaz are a double-threat, shifting effortlessly between their foil roles and unguarded millennial asides. Meanwhile, Tan Hui Er wields innocence like a weapon, turning a massage scene from routine to layers of pointed examination.

I look forward to watching them elsewhere in the future.