UNDERCLASS by The Necessary Stage and Drama Box

“Underclass”

Reviewer: Liana Gurung
Performance: 16 May 2018

A far cry from the common notion of art as escapism, Underclass is raw, searching, and plaintively self-reflexive. The Necessary Stage and Drama Box’s most recent joint venture begins even as the audience takes their seats: an “auntie” staggers through the sparse set of cardboard boxes and simple white cupboards, digging arthritically through a worn sling bag. “Tissue?” she offers with a winning smile, and you can see familiarly apologetic head-shakes ripple through the crowd.

Directed by Alvin Tan and Kok Heng Leun, Underclass relies on a uniquely Singaporean vernacular, lately popularized by Dr Teo You Yenn’s landmark “This Is What Inequality Looks Like”, and even Kuik Shao-Yin’s forceful, resonant plea to the Parliament. The topic of class – of inequality – is a heavy one, and one now at the forefront of the Singapore imaginary.

“Our outcomes can change…”

The play is thus timely, and begins familiarly enough as a kind of underdog story. Haresh Sharma’s cast of characters is colourful. Enter Xin Yi (Goh Guat Kian), endearing, plucky, and independent; her rough-around-the-edges neighbour (Yazid Jalil), who dodges gainful employment even as he chases his mother to eat her meals and waters his house’s roses; an ambitious but naive politician (Brendon Fernandez), working to boost his image alongside a street-smart and savvy social entrepreneur (Siti Khalijah Zainal); and Xin Yi’s old friend and economic foil Yuan (Yang Shi Bin). This vibrant cast converge upon the hapless Xin Yi, each well-meaning in their own way, and independently inadequate.

It isn’t long before fissures begin to show in what might have otherwise been a hopeful tale of resilience and redemption. The production judders through its own existential crisis as its actors begin to falter, slipping out of their borrowed skins – losing conviction in the play and the integrity of their art as they are confronted by the fact that this fictional story isn’t false.

“…Because they’re fiction.”

One of Underclass’ more unique contributions to the conversation now surrounding inequality is the parallel it draws between the utility of art and the utility of the measures put in place to address inequality in society (hint: little to none). Politician, social entrepreneur, case worker become masks that can be slipped on and off – costumes hung up at the end of the work day. The point is impressed that while we can leave the theatre – actors and audience both – there are people for whom there are no open doors.

“In reality, nothing changes.”

The deliberate lack of resolution in Underclass is not defiant but defeated, a howl of frustration into a resilient and indifferent system. The production is haunted by the guilt of its cast and its team. After all, to even be able to talk about privilege is a marker of it, and they extend this guilt to the audience, when as the actors storm out of the theatre one by one, the door is left flung open.

But is this an invitation to engage, or to walk away?