[Theatre Review] ‘Brown Boys Don’t Tell Jokes’ by Checkpoint Theatre: The Joke’s on All of Us

Photo: Joseph Nair / Courtesy of Checkpoint Theatre

Brown Boys Don’t Tell Jokes
Checkpoint Theatre
24 March 2023
Drama Centre Black Box 
23 March–2 April 2023

A musician, an activist, an academic, and a therapist walk into a politician’s house on the eve of an election. The showdown that ensues is unexpected as the characters, save for the politician, thought this was just a group of friends catching up for old time’s sake.

There may be a sense of camaraderie in the shorthand that one develops with friends, but without examining the intention and context that underlie them, the in-jokes, nicknames, and quips soon become barbs. 

As Tesh, an aspiring member of parliament, enlists the help of his friends due to a looming political scandal, friendships are pushed to the limits, and intentions are questioned, as old or unresolved conflicts emerge. Barbs and hands fly quick and fast. 

It is in this messy slugfest that playwright Myle Yan Tay interrogates race, politics, class, and censorship. Issues such as minority representation in media and politics; what constitutes the brown community; and whether cancel culture is going too far—among other topics—are unleashed on us in unrelenting waves.  

The topics covered might make the production seem like an argumentative essay in costume, but it is far from that. The topics are raised organically, depending on what the characters clashed about, and we are not brow-beaten into any position. 

But where we really see the playwright’s skill is that as we lean towards all the characters being complex and irreducible to a set of identity markers, we are yanked back to the reality that there are some issues affecting all of them simply on the basis of their skin colour. One is unsure of one’s stand, but as a Chinese man, I find myself keenly absorbing every nuance and complexion presented.

Not turning a provocative play into something overly didactic or having a woe-is-me protagonist, while offering several insights to mull on is difficult for any playwright, let alone for one debuting his first full-length play. 

L-R: Dev (Krish Natarajan), Adam (Shahid Nasheer), Tesh (Gosteloa Spancer), Scott (Ebi Shankara), Fizzy (Adib Kosnan)
Photo: Joseph Nair / Courtesy of Checkpoint Theatre

As most of the stage time mirrors real time, and all the action occurs in Tesh’s living room, it is easy for the show to be derailed into an endless shouting match. The sophistication in Huzir Sulaiman’s direction coupled with the sheer commitment from the wonderful cast mean that every moment is filled with pregnant intensity. 

Our attention is drawn to different parts of the room when the fissures occur. But if one were to cast an eye on the other characters observing the situation, you can feel the simmering tension, as you wonder what would happen next. 

Gosteloa Spancer’s portrayal of Tesh may be slightly tentative initially. But by the time he delivers the key monologue, he has the audience latching on to every word. 

Ebi Shankara’s Scott, a therapist who moved to the US, may be the most easy-going of the lot, as he bears the brunt of jokes about him escaping Singapore or adopting Americanisms. However, domestic troubles gradually bubble to the surface. Witnessing how Shankara allows his character to stew in his problems until the inevitable revelation is a delight. 

Krish Natarajan plays Dev, a musician who provided most of the comic relief due to his cheeky demeanour. But one should look out for the handling of Dev’s character arc as he becomes more circumspect when Tesh’s predicament compels him to reflect on his past.

Watching Adib Kosnan play Fizzy—an ardent activist seeking to effect change via social media—is a refreshing change to his mild-mannered character in a previous collaboration with Checkpoint Theatre, Keluarga Besar En. Karim. This is also a testament to his versatility as an actor.

Adam, a jaded academic caught in an unjustified social media maelstrom caused by Fizzy, is understandably sceptical and guarded. Shahid Nasheer’s keen sense of timing allows Adam to play devil’s advocate as he curtly interrogates everyone’s intentions.

The other cast members—Isabella Chiam (Marina, Tesh’s wife); Lareina Tham (Caroline, Tesh’s assistant); Vishnucharan Naidu (Ravi, Tesh’s intern);  Hang Qian Chou and Chaney Chia (cameramen)—serve to emphasise how politics is heavily reliant on optics.

The Singapore theatre canon is no stranger to tackling race issues. Only time will tell if Brown Boys Don’t Tell Jokes will be added to it.

However, with so much to think about, the joke’s on all of us if we don’t move the conversation forward on race issues, and figure out ways to coëxist better. 

Other Reviews

“Theatre review: Brown Boys Don’t Tell Jokes offers detailed characterisation and serious themes” by Ong Sor Fern, The Straits Times Life (Review is behind a paywall. Read a partial transcript here)

Brown Boys Don’t Tell Jokes by Naeem Kapadia, Crystalwords

“Review: Dia Hakim on Brown Boys Don’t Tell Jokes by Myle Yan Tay (Checkpoint Theatre)” by Dia Hakim, Critics Circle Blog

Advertisement

[Theatre Review] ‘The Puppets are Alright’ by The Finger Players: Puppets Revealing Humanity’s Frailties

Doreen Toh in ‘My Father The AI Machine’ / Photo: Benson Lim / Courtesy of The Finger Players

The Puppets are Alright
The Finger Players
26 February 2023
Drama Centre Black Box 
22–26 February 2023

In my email interview with the creatives of The Puppets are Alright, the common theme of working towards a piece in which the puppet is crucial to the story-telling came up consistently. 

The puppets used in the triple-bill are created by Sim Xin Feng, Loo An Ni, and Marilyn Ang during their respective year-long residencies at The Maker’s Lab. 

When the audience enters the black box, they will see Sim Xin Feng’s puppet seated at the dining table, facing them directly. It is the size of a large doll, its head resembling a bald, bespectacled, middle-aged man. 

With its big eyes and indecipherable mouth, it has an enigmatic presence throughout My Father The AI Machine. In the piece, it is a machine which supposedly contains the brainwaves and memories of a deceased man, an innovation by the government-backed Revive the Dead Programme.

The man’s wife (Doreen Toh) treats it like her actual husband, and takes on multiple jobs, hoping to eventually afford the upgrades to make this machine more human-like. This leaves the son (Neo Hai Bin) contending with treating the machine like his father, and not having a proper relationship with his mother.

Neo Hai Bin plays the son who is unwilling to treat the machine as his father
Photo: Benson Lim / Courtesy of The Finger Players

With its movable eyes, controlled by a joystick, and a button at the mouth to print ten words at a time on a ticker tape, dispensed through its chest, the puppet is not completely inanimate, but hardly human. 

The liminality of the puppet is the crux of this poignant human drama in which one is clinging on to what is lost at the unknowing expense of slowly losing what one has.

Playwright Chong Tze Chien keeps the plot and world-building of a near future simple, which allows us to focus on the human drama. Unfortunately, Liew Jia Yi’s direction and the performance by the actors is just short of realising the drama to its fullest potential. 

For a woman who desperately wants to keep her husband alive, and treats the machine as her husband, Doreen Toh is slightly tentative in handling the puppet as they slow dance to the couple’s favourite song. Even when the son threatens to destroy the machine, her desperate pleas do not feel like her son has just threatened to kill his father with a long knife in hand. 

At the end of the play, when the son makes an irrational decision that contradicts his previous beliefs, Neo Hai Bin portrays the son to make that decision a little too easily. 

That said, the play is engaging and touches on a very human struggle. 

Alvin Chiam plays a man who is haunted by the spectre of his wife / Photo: Benson Lim / Courtesy of The Finger Players

As a counterpoint to the opening piece, Loo An Ni’s puppet in Parting only appears in the middle of the piece. Instead of using the original puppets she created for her residency, she created a new one based on insights gained from her research into modularity. 

While I am slightly disappointed as she is modest in her ambitions with the life-sized female mannequin with detachable limbs,—as opposed to her original interests in exoskeletons and modularity—the puppet serves as the spectre that confronts us with our sins. 

In this non-verbal piece conceived and directed by Oliver Chong, a man (Alvin Chiam) writes a parting letter to his wife and removes his wedding ring. Three creatures (Angelina Chandra, Jo Kwek, Rachel Nip) dressed in black appear and they seem to represent the man’s personal demons. As they scamper and scramble about the room to frolic and cause mischief, the man gets increasingly affected.

The timing between the creatures shifting the body parts of the puppet, and the man wondering they are constantly being misplaced, is incredibly taut. This brings out a sense of dark humour. We get the horror trope of things moving about and seeing the dark forces causing mischief, while also getting the comedic element of child-like creatures playing pranks.

The creatures (Angelina Chandra, Jo Kwek, Rachel Nip) seem to represent the man’s personal demons
Photo: Benson Lim / Courtesy of The Finger Players

Chiam’s slightly understated approach is a nice touch as this contrasts with the creatures suggests how he is trying to control what is going on internally as manifested by the creatures on stage.

The creatures also double as puppeteers. When the mannequin is assembled, it becomes the spectre of the man’s wife, and he is confronted with what he did. As the ultimate act is committed, the puppet is crucial in showing how violent we can be. This may be a little too uncomfortable if such violence is enacted on a human actor. 

The promotional materials describe this piece as “high octane”, but the initial menacing quality of the piece is not ramped up towards the climax. While one might worry about how much the audience can take, I think there is still more room to push this further. 

Ian Tan handles and gives voice to the rod puppet, Paul. T. Saitharan plays Paul’s father
Photo: Benson Lim / Courtesy of The Finger Players

The Bench brings us back to familiar ground with Marilyn Ang’s rod puppet which plays the son, Paul, whose relationship with his father (T. Sasitharan) is strained.

Having lost his wife, the father has to raise his son alone and tries to connect with him by creating an environment that the father thinks is beautiful—building a bench that can play sounds when touching different parts of it, and telling him stories or quotes by luminaries of the past whenever Paul needs some guidance. 

Paul drifts from his father as he tires of the cryptic wisdom provided by his father, which does not seem to help him navigate through the thickets of life. 

In this wistful play, written by Ellison Tan and directed by Myra Loke, we see Paul grow from an infant to a young adult through the sensitive puppeteering and line delivery by Ian Tan. 

One of the key features in Marilyn Ang’s design of Paul is a mechanism in the chest which allows it to emit bubbles. At a few points in the play, we see Paul emitting a stream of bubbles from his chest, as if he is pouring his heart out. Just like the stories and quotes from his father, they appear beautiful, but are fleeting and do not exist long enough for a connection to be made. 

Delicate performances from T. Sasitharan and Ian Tan / Photo: Benson Lim / Courtesy of The Finger Players

T. Sasitharan, as Paul’s father, has an unmistaken presence and one could listen to him tell stories for hours. Despite him likening acting with and reacting to puppets as a high-wire act sans safety net, he does it effortlessly.

However, even when the relationship is fraying, the father still resorts to quotes and anecdotes to communicate with his son. One wishes that the audience with some sort of indication—either through the text or direction—as to why the father could not speak from the heart, despite being very eloquent in relaying wisdom from the past.

With a few beautiful moments sprinkled in the piece, which brings out Marilyn Ang’s exploration of tactility and bubbles, the piece is an elegy of father-son relationships, and the missed opportunities for connection. 

Despite needing a few tweaks, everyone involved in the triple-bill must be congratulated for creating works that incorporate the puppets in an organic way, while throwing humanity’s needs, desires, and frailties into sharper relief. 

Other Reviews

“Theatre review: The Puppets Are Alright is sophisticated storytelling about grief and love” by Charmaine Lim, The Straits Times Life! (Review is behind a paywall.)

“To Make is To Care” by Lee Shu Yu, harmonicstagebeams

“The Puppets Are Alright” by The Finger Players—and I know the outgoing artistic directors will be alright too” by Corrie Tan, the intimate critic

“Response: Alex Li on The Puppets Are Alright by Ellison Tan, Oliver Chong, and Chong Tze Chien (The Finger Players)” by Alex Li, Critics Circle Blog

Further Reading

[Interview] Creatives shed light on ‘The Puppets are Alright’ by The Finger Players

[Interview] Ellison Tan and Myra Loke celebrate their stint as co-artistic directors of The Finger Players with The Puppets are Alright

Programme booklet of The Puppets are Alright

[Interview] Myle Yan Tay explores the evolution of male friendships in ‘Brown Boys Don’t Tell Jokes’

Courtesy of Checkpoint Theatre

Checkpoint Theatre kicks off its 2023 season with the premier of Brown Boys Don’t Tell Jokes, a play by its associate artist, Myle Yan Tay.

With the play being promised as a “nuanced and unflinching examination of friendship, race, and masculinity in our country”, I caught up with the playwright to find out more about his inspirations behind the play.

Synopsis

The eve of an election. A politician, a musician, an activist, an academic, and a therapist reunite after several years.

As the five friends catch up on the different paths their lives have taken, they realise their rose-tinted memories might be the only thing holding them together.

With secrets unravelling, old conflicts reawakening, and a threat looming, the five are forced to confront the boys they once were, and the men they want to become.

What was the inspiration behind Brown Boys Don’t Tell Jokes? Was there a particular incident that compelled you to explore male friendships?

The emotional inspiration was hanging out with my friends and thinking about what our conversations will be like in 15–20 years. Will we still laugh at the same things? Will we still be as close? What secrets will we have? That was the first step, but the characters are very far from my friends. They were the initial spark for me to start thinking about friendship and male intimacy.

The more artistic inspirations were two plays: The Boys in the Band by Mart Crowley and One Night in Miami by Kemp Powers. Both plays look at masculinity in such a specific way, concerned with larger societal issues, but located within this group of very human characters. And both works take place over a single evening, as these lifelong friendships become forever altered. That constraint was very appealing to me, to see how a situation like that can devolve.

What is the significance of the title?

I’ve been telling jokes my whole life. Some of them are funnier than others. Some have been hurtful. Jokes are often seen as funny and lighthearted but can also be used to deflect, distract, empower, and attack someone.

In a group of friends (who happen to be brown), what are the jokes that harm individuals and/or friendships? What are they laughing at? Who are they laughing with? That’s what the title is about, it’s about the confluence of race, masculinity, and comedy in Singapore. The jokes that are told can reveal a lot about the relationship between oneself and the relationships one has with others

What was the biggest challenge you faced while writing the play?

One of the biggest difficulties was trying to figure out when I was crossing the line. I knew I wanted the play to step into some taboo territory, but it was also trying to navigate when it should happen, when I should step back, and very often, when I had to go a few steps further.

Did you gain any new insights into your own friendships in the process of writing the play?

It’s definitely had me thinking about the concept of “growth”. That’s a major theme of the play, something I was intentionally exploring when writing Brown Boys Don’t Tell Jokes.

But seeing the actors bring it to life and make those friendships tangible puts it even more in focus—because these are five men who have grown together and grown apart. Now that they’re together again, they’re regressing to those older versions of themselves.

So the thing I’ve been thinking about is how can friendship allow transformation? And how does it encourage stagnation?

What is one advice you would give a young man transiting into adulthood?

Gosh, I hardly feel qualified to do that. I guess it would be to think about your position. What biases are you carrying because of how you exist in the world? What are you allowed to get away with because you’re a man? And how can you help people from your position?


Catch It!

[Interview] Creatives shed light on ‘The Puppets are Alright’ by The Finger Players

The Puppets are Alright is a triple-bill of puppetry-led works which features the puppets by the participants of The Maker’s Lab: Sim Xin Feng (2020), Loo An Ni (2021), and Marilyn Ang (2022).

At the end of The Maker’s Lab, a production is created around the featured puppet. The Puppets are Alright serves as a culmination of the past three iterations of The Maker’s Lab, in which the puppets are featured in new plays.

This is borne out of the concerns of The Finger Players (TFP) as they explore ways in which sustainability can be incorporated into the practice of puppetry.

Following my interview with Ellison Tan and Myra Loke, co-artistic directors of TFP, I spoke to the creatives behind the triple-bill to find out more about each piece.

The Bench

On a bench, Paul and his father tell each other stories, disregard their unhappiness
with reckless abandon, and allow their souls to be healed by each other. But as time
goes by, there is an acknowledgement—that nobody can save your soul if you won’t
save your own, and if only Paul knew, that his father would stop at nothing to save his.

THE BENCH features the latest puppet exploration of Marilyn Ang, selected maker
of The Maker’s Lab Cycle 2022/2023.

Playwright: Ellison Tan
Director: Myra Loke
Puppet Designer & Maker: Marilyn Ang
Performers / Puppeteers: Ian Tan, T. Sasitharan

Did you write the play specifically around the puppet? If so, what aspects of the puppet inspired you?

Ellison Tan: For this iteration of The Maker’s Lab, Myra and myself were involved in the process much earlier than before, and what we did was to support the selected maker’s curiosities. 

Marilyn Ang was interested in sound tactility (hence the Playtron exploration), and experimented on a few textures based on emotions. Eventually, she settled on sound tactility as well as soap as a texture, which eventually evolved to be represented by bubbles, and so I wrote a play that could house these two concepts. 

Myra Loke: When Marilyn was exploring different tactile experiences (e.g., using ice, wax, charcoal, etc.), I was captivated by the ephemerality of the bubbles. It is so light, almost weightless, but when it burst in my palm, my heart stopped a bit. How could something so light evoke such a deep and heavy emotion in me? This feeling inspired my approach to the story, and the development of the puppets with Marilyn and Daniel Sim. 

Were there any unique challenges in writing a play with a puppet as a character?

Ellison Tan: I don’t think it’s a unique challenge because it feels quite universal—can this story be told only with puppetry elements? There are infinite possibilities in staging a story, so the challenge then becomes how can I write something that presents this puppet as crucial to the story, and not as an afterthought? It was also absolutely essential for the possibilities of the puppet to be illustrated to its fullest potential.

Were there any interesting insights or discoveries during the rehearsal process?

T. Sasitharan: Acting with puppets and puppeteers requires multiple imaginations to be working simultaneously. I, as actor, must instantaneously “translate” the actions of the puppet into the actions of the baby, while respond to the “baby” in my arms as a puppet at the same time. It’s like being on a high-wire without a net; intensely scary and exciting. It’s the first time I’m experiencing this as an actor.

Has witnessing your creation being used in a different context made you look at your puppet anew? Did you gain any new insights in the puppet-making process as you watch the performers work with your creation? 

Marilyn Ang: As this is my first time leading the puppet design and build of a show, I’ve learnt about what goes into the process of designing puppets and allowing my build to move along with the needs of the director and performers. As an assistant maker for the past two iterations of The Maker’s Lab, it allowed me to learn some of the processes and skills needed to understand the ways a puppet can be made. This helped in problem-solving when it came to designing and making the puppets for “The Bench”.

Sometimes in the process of making something, I get a little frustrated, but when I finally see the puppet in the rehearsal with the puppeteer, It feels exhilarating to see the performers give life to an otherwise static object. My role as a puppet designer would only be as good as a puppeteer makes of the puppet.

Parting

A relationship has run its course and a man sits at his desk to finalize a separation.

Inspired by Director and Playwright Oliver Chong’s first production (I’m Just a Piano
Teacher
) at The Finger Players, PARTING is a high octane piece that features
cleavers, limbs, granny panties and sheer fury.

PARTING is a collaboration between Oliver Chong and Loo An Ni, and is an
extension of Loo An Ni’s journey in The Maker’s Lab Cycle 2021/2022. Witness
Oliver re-imagine An Ni’s puppet in this short, swift and bloody piece.

Playwright & Director: Oliver Chong
Puppet Designer & Maker: Loo An Ni
Performers / Puppeteers: Alvin Chiam, Angelina Chandra, Jo Kwek, Rachel Nip

Did you write the play specifically around the puppet? If so, what aspects of the puppet inspired you?

Oliver Chong: Yes. I was inspired by the body parts of the puppet which are easily detachable and interchangeable.

Were there any unique challenges in writing a play with a puppet as a character?

Oliver Chong: In this case, the challenge is in showcasing the unique qualities of the puppet. The play has to justify these qualities in such a way that the puppet has been specifically created for the narrative. Otherwise, it is about justifying why the character must be played by a puppet and not a human actor.

Has witnessing your creation being used in a different context made you look at your puppet anew?

Loo An Ni: A different puppet was created for “Parting” using the modular system of bones and joints developed during my time with The Maker’s Lab. It was thrilling to be able to apply the system in another context, and further test the concept of modularity.

 

My Father the AI Machine

She clings on to her dead husband’s memories, lovingly preserved in an electronic shell
of him in her house. He lives on in a fictional world that she tenderly and tirelessly
recreates, while their son is caught in between, unable to move on. In a near future
when one can preserve the dead as an AI machine, would you do it, and at what price?

MY FATHER THE AI MACHINE brings back the puppet created by Sim Xin Feng,
selected maker of The Maker’s Lab Cycle 2020/2021.

Playwright: Chong Tze Chien
Director: Liew Jia Yi
Puppet Designer & Maker: Sim Xin Feng
Performers / Puppeteers: Doreen Toh, Neo Hai Bin

Did you write the play specifically around the puppet? If so, what aspects of the puppet inspired you?

Chong Tze Chien: I wrote the play as a response to Chiam (the name of the puppet built by Xin Feng), specifically its earlier incarnation as a puppet developed under The Maker’s Lab, which Xin Feng conceptualised and crafted over a year.

I was intrigued by my impression of that relationship between the maker and the created, and the co-dependency and embryonic bond between the two. Using that as a running theme, I created a parallel story between a mother who crafts a narrative around a construct, as a puppeteer or puppet-maker would with her creation. To the puppet-maker and mother character in the play, their creation is as real as a human being.

What were some challenges in creating this piece?

Liew Jia Yi: I am usually a more “micro” person, so one challenge was to keep reminding myself to step back, see the big picture, and envision how the different design elements come together cohesively to tell the story. Thankfully, I have a very good mentor and team who keep me on track and ask good questions to shape the show more clearly.

Were there any interesting insights or discoveries during the rehearsal process?

Liew Jia Yi: One discovery was that the future I would like to paint for AI machine is not so much of a dystopian state, but rather a very possible future where the people are offered more high-tech options that can interfere with what was typically impossible (e.g., time travel, space travel, reversing death, reversing environmental damage, etc.). So in a way, it is quite hopeful and exciting.

Of course, there would be other possibly negative “symptoms” such as greater income gap, inflation, older retirement age, wars happening elsewhere in the world, etc.

But in this piece, I would like to focus more on how the layman (i.e., the two characters) position themselves in such a world, and how they deal with death when choices such as the Revive the Dead Programme become possible (in the play, advancement in medical science has made memory transference of the dead to machines possible).

Doreen Toh: This is my first experience acting with a puppet. Other than having to find ways to adapt to him, the most important thing is just to be there to listen to him. As a puppet, he supposedly cannot give and take spontaneously like a human actor, but as the days go by, I can sense his response and the connection between us.

Neo Hai Bin: Working with the puppet, and by the puppet, brings back fond childhood memories of playing with toys. I love how puppets (re-)kindle our sense of imagination.

Catch It!

[Interview] Ellison Tan and Myra Loke celebrate their stint as co-artistic directors of The Finger Players with ‘The Puppets are Alright’

Ellison Tan and Myra Loke standing along a stairwell.

Ellison Tan (left) and Myra Loke (right) / Courtesy of The Finger Players

In 2019, The Finger Players (TFP) underwent a strategic review exercise. The company was restructured into a collective of independent or freelance artists and managers and they form the Core Team of The Finger Players.

A feature of this restructuring includes a rotating artistic directorship. Ellison Tan and Myra Loke, graduates from TFP’s inaugural apprenticeship programme, were invited to be the first co-artistic directors of TFP under this new model.

The Puppets are Alright is the final production with Tan and Loke at the helm. It is a triple-bill of puppetry-led works which brings back puppets created by participants in The Maker’s Lab scheme from 2020 to 2022. The Maker’s Lab is a programme which nurtures designers builders and designers of puppets led by Daniel Sim, a core team member of The Finger Players.

I caught up with Ellison Tan and Myra Loke and got them to reflect on their stint as co-artistic directors of The Finger Players.

A clear legacy of your stint as co-artistic directors of The Finger Players would be The Maker’s Lab. Having overseen three iterations of the programme, how has it grown and develop as compared to your initial plans for the programme?

Myra Loke: The Maker’s Lab is an experiment. I remember there being doubts about using a lot of resources to groom only one maker. But we believed that talents, and ideas need time and space to grow. The Lab aims to be that shelter for puppet designers and makers, without needing to worry about time and money. We are still trying our best to build a shelter strong enough for ideas and passion to be nurtured and achieve their fullest potential. We are also constantly evaluating what the industry needs, and how this lab can help to cater to it. 

Since the start of The Maker’s Lab, we witnessed the need for a community of makers and designers to be set up. So we supported the formation of We.Make.Performance.Objects, a group set up to share knowledge and exchange ideas between makers and designers. We met many new makers and designers and have also since included them in our productions. 

These may not be big, industry-changing developments but that is already worth celebrating.

Apart from giving potential puppet-makers the space to research and create, The Maker’s Lab has also done some outreach for the public to learn more about puppetry. Have you noticed a shift in the public’s perception of puppetry over the past three years?

Ellison Tan: The cynic in me says no only because I’m aware of the scale of how we operate and the size of the following we have. Perhaps it’s also what it means when we want a shift in perception: Do we want people to be able to know more than one type of puppetry? Do we want them to know more than “Sesame Street”? Or is it something more about our branding, that we want to be known as the company people think of when discussions about puppetry in Singapore surface?

The public has also been a tricky entity to read / predict / navigate since the pandemic, and I am trying to be at peace with these perceptions.

Myra Loke: It takes a long time to cultivate a behaviour or change a mindset. So I try to look at the mini successes. For our previous production, Puppet Origin Stories @ ONE-TWO-SIX, I see at least five new faces every night, and that is good enough, for now.

For The Maker’s Lab productions, we are increasingly also seeing schools being interested in our show, and we would also provide more in-depth post-show programmes for students to touch, feel, and understand the puppets they see on stage. Hopefully, the experience will stay with them, and keep their interest of puppetry growing. 

The Puppets are Alright brings together all the puppets created during The Maker’s Lab for a triple-bill performance. How do you feel seeing all these puppets again, but in a very different context?

Ellison Tan: It feels absolutely glorious—a little like how it was for Puppet Origin Stories @ ONE-TWO-SIX, like an old friend coming back again to tell you a story.

Myra Loke: It has always been important to me that the puppet designs can still continue to grow and develop after the lab. Seeing them back again, but telling a different story, while having more features in them or adopting a different mechanism—it feels like we have not let the puppets down; they have more than one life and one purpose.

What would be the fondest memory you have as co-artistic director of The Finger Players?

Ellison Tan: There are too many, but at this moment, I’m truly stumped. 

Myra Loke: People have been really kind to us; quietly supporting our vision, or openly championing for puppetry on our behalf. Although I don’t want to be cliché, there is really no one fondest memory. Every day, I encounter so much love and support that each day has a certain kind of fondness that I will always remember. 

What advice would you give aspiring puppet-makers or performers who wants to get involved in puppetry, but have no idea where to start?

Ellison Tan: Come for our workshops and masterclasses! We do have people sending CVs over, saying they’d like to work with us, but we prefer longer audition processes that we can’t often afford the time to do, and workshops are really the tried and tested way to be “seen”. It sounds cruel but that is the reality of things. We’re also looking into have low/no-cost workshops for practitioners. 

Myra Loke: The truth is we are also looking for you, and we have no idea where you are! So come, talk to us.

What is your wish for the future of puppetry?

Ellison Tan: That people will go to the theatre for puppetry the same reason they’d go to see a particular actor.

Myra Loke: On top of what Ellison said, we also hope that people will choose to learn puppetry and hone it as their main art form. While we build our audience, we also need to strengthen our industry too. 

Catch It!

[Theatre Review] Puppet Origin Stories by The Finger Players: Of Remembrance and Reïnvention

Courtesy of The Finger Players / Photo: Tuckys Photography

Puppet Origin Stories
The Finger Players
9 November 2022
One-Two-Six Cairnhill Arts Centre
9–13 November 2022

The site of Cairnhill Arts Centre was originally an estate surrounded by nutmeg plantations. The building was also once Anglo-Chinese School and the Teachers’ Training College, among other things.

I am aware of those facts not because I am well-versed in local history, but it was shared with us by the co-artistic directors of The Finger Players, Ellison Tan and Myra Loke, as the prelude to Puppet Origin Stories, a triple bill of performances by artists from various disciplines using puppets from the company’s repository.

With that rather surprising prologue, Puppet Origin Stories is more than a puppetry experimentation or reïnvention; it is also about remembrance and the company’s way of looking back at its history. 

Remembrance and reïnvention are present in all three works.

Chai Jean Yinn as Shadow (left) while Liew Jia Yi manipulates Peng (right) / Photo: Tuckys Photography

In “Jabber”, movement artist Hairi Cromo takes his childhood experiences and creates a piece whereby a boy interacts with a strange creature, which is a physical manifestation of his unresolved feelings. 

Liew Jia Yi deftly handles Peng, the puppet of the boy, by slipping into his feet like slippers while manipulating his hands and head through the rods attached to them. Liew’s movement work is quite detailed as she successfully creates nuances in the boy’s movements such as creating the illusion of distance as the boy greets his friends when they pass him by in school.

Chai Jean Yinn plays the teacher, who strips the boy of his prefect position after he was caught playing a fool in class, and the amorphous creature, Shadow, that haunts the boy. The former is portrayed by wearing a mask, while the latter is portrayed by Chai wearing a headscarf made from different cloths and an oval cookie tin for a face.

Apart from the sweeping movements which creates a ghost-like quality in the creature, Chai also haunts the boy by collapsing her body which lends the creature an amorphous quality.

While one can see the resemblances to Lewis Carroll’s Jabberwocky, which is one of the main inspirations for the piece, it does not have enough thrust in which the boy is working through his feelings. As it stands the boy has a slight revelation and asks the creature to leave him. 

One hopes that this piece will be developed further in future and, if it could really tell the story from the boy’s point of view, it will fulfil the main goal of emphasising the importance of adult’s acknowledging the feelings of children.

Tan Beng Tian visits Ah Ma (handled by Yazid Jalil) in a museum / Photo: Tuckys Photography

“AH MA” by film-maker Tan Wei Ting remembers the past and invents a (hopefully) fictional future when puppetry is no longer practised, and it exists only as artefacts inside a museum display. A puppet, Ah Ma, is chosen to be preserved, but when Tan Beng Tian realises that Ah Ma is unhappy, a museum heist ensues.

Ah Ma is a rod puppet created for A.i.D, Angels in Disguise (2010). As she is suffering from dementia in the original production, she has a jewel inside her head that represents her memories. With a flick, expertly done by a puppeteer, the jewel is flung out, and Ah Ma loses her memories.

The theme of remembrance manifests in many ways. In the context of the piece, will we suffer a kind of cultural dementia as our performance practices die out from the lack of support? Are we truly remembering a performance tradition if it is no longer practised? Is curation a kind of reïnvention?

Tan Wei Ting traverses the past and the imagined future through the interplay of archival footage of A.i.D and having Tan Beng Tian—veteran puppeteer who was involved in handling Ah Ma in A.i.D, and has been with The Finger Players since the beginning—perform in the piece as she navigates a world in which puppetry is dead.

Yazid Jalil doubles up as the bureaucratic curator and the grumpy, but sympathetic security guard who assists in the heist. He displays versatility in both puppetry work and acting as he has to switch characters at a (sometimes literal) drop of a cap.

The duo also showcased some sensitive puppeteering. As the lines of Ah Ma are delivered through a voiceover, the timing has to be absolutely right with details such as breathing or crying added in.

Apart from a sense of poignancy, there is also a sense of child-like playfulness. While Ah Ma steals the show, there is also some—for a lack of a better term— “informal puppetry” going on. 

Tan would sometimes hold and move the curator’s spectacles or security guard’s cap while Yazid delivers his lines before quickly changing characters. This harkens back to the games of make-believe we play as children—perhaps carelessly moving a soft toy while giving it voices might be our very first contact with puppetry.

Mitchell Fang (left) and Deonn Yang (right) handle Moon Baby as it stands on the body of Becca D’Bus / Photo: Tuckys Photography

In line with the provocative title, “Suck Sweat Dry, Baby!”, drag queen Becca D’Bus does not hold back and questions the premise of the whole endeavour. In her first monologue of the piece, she asks what is there to remember for a company with slightly over 20 years of history, and suggests that something only has monetary value if it has a history. 

While that might be incredibly cynical, one cannot help but wonder if there is a kernel of truth when most arts companies are so reliant on state funding, and they have to constantly justify their value to stay afloat.

Beyond the usual drag act of lip-syncing to Johnny Cash’s Ring of Fire, the provocation continues in a pastiche of scenes with different puppets. 

In one scene we see Moon Baby hiking up Bukit Timah Hill, represented by the contours of D’Bus’ corseted body. In the course of people-watching, a taxonomy of hikers is created, as Moon Baby wonders about human behaviour and the image that we are trying to portray to others.

In another scene, we see Sponge Girl inadvertently hooking up with Samsui Woman. And we soon see both puppets laying on top of each other while Deonn Yang and Mitchell Fang, who are in full drag, create sound effects that suggest copulation.

In most puppetry traditions, the puppets are often seen as performers themselves and are often treated with a sense of reverence. As such, it might be initially uncomfortable to see the puppets in this new context, which veers into the profane. 

But it is the same reverence that allows us to imbue them with human qualities, and the provocation soon becomes an exploration of human frailties and desire.  

One leaves the piece unsure of what one has just witnessed, but there is a tacit understanding of the need for human connection. 

With Puppet Origin Stories set to be a yearly fixture, the premise and overall direction of the first instalment is a good start. I cannot wait to see how this platform evolves in years to come. 

Other Reviews

Theatre review: Open-ended challenges in Puppet Origin Stories that linger” by Charmaine Lim, The Straits Times Life! (Review is behind a paywall.)

“关于守护的问题——观 ‘Puppet Origin Stories'” by 杨明慧, 剧读 thea.preter

到经禧艺术中心作客—— 观《偶起源故事@126》” by 梁海彬, 剧读 thea.preter

“Teaching an Old Puppet New Tricks” by Lee Shu Yu, harmonicstagebeams

Further Reading

[Interview] Puppet Origin Stories: Same Puppets, New Stories — My interview with the creators of the pieces.

Digital Programme of Puppet Origin Stories

Puppet Origin Stories: Peng — An article about how Peng, which is featured in “Jabber”, came to be.

Puppet Origin Stores: Faceless Maiden — An article about how Faceless Maiden, which is featured in “Jabber”, came to be.

Puppet Origin Stories: Ah Ma — An article about how Ah Ma, which is featured in “AH MA”, came to be.

Puppet Origin Stories: Moon Baby — An article about how Moon Baby, which is featured in “Suck Sweat Dry, Baby!”, came to be.

Puppet Origin Stores: Sponge Girl — An article about how Sponge Girl, which is featured in “Suck Sweat Dry, Baby!”, came to be.

Puppet Origin Stories: Samsui Women — An article about how Samsui Woman, which is featured in “Suck Sweat Dry, Baby!”, came to be.

[Theatre Review] A Midsummer Night’s Dream by ITI — Sparse treatment showcases actors’ versatility

Jemima Dunn as a fairy and Daisy Zhao Xiaoqing as Puck / Photo: Bernie Ng

A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Intercultural Theatre Institute
3 November 2022
Esplanade Theatre Studio
3–5 November 2022

I have to admit that when I found out that Beijing Opera, Kutiyattam, and Wayang Wong were incorporated to delineate the characters in A Midsummer’s Night Dream, I had strong reservations. 

It could easily derail into an exotic parade. Additionally, with this being the graduation production by the 2022 cohort of the Intercultural Theatre Institute (ITI), it feels like a quick and easy way to showcase what the students learnt, rather than serve the demands of the text.

As the Athenians appear in Chinese opera garb in the first scene, which elicits a short burst of laughter, my heart starts sinking. With the inconsistency in make-up and costume,—none of the actors is in opera make-up, and some of them do not have a head covering—it feels like watching kids playing dress-up.  

Am I to endure 150 minutes of a rude mechanical play within a crude, mechanical performance?

Thankfully, this is not so. 

The rude mechanicals / Photo: Bernie Ng

As the performance goes on, the conceit regarding the various performing traditions becomes clearer. The show does not pretend it is faithful to the art form. Rather, certain aspects are borrowed to accentuate a certain quality of the character or to add to the mise-en-scène. 

To use a very rough analogy, if we liken each performing tradition to a language, rather than it being multilingual, it is more of borrowing a few expressions that capture something which is difficult to translate in one’s native tongue.

In essence, the focus on incorporating various performing traditions in the publicity materials (mea culpa) is over-egging the pudding. 

In that vein, director Aarne Neeme strikes the right balance with the actors when it comes to the fairies and the rude mechanicals. 

Kuttiyatam influences the wide stance, gestures that look like mudras, and the costumes of the fairies. But the production only seems to take the costumes and the gesture of spreading out the cloth hanging from the sides of the costume from Wayang Wong. This results in a cohesive depiction of the fairies and rude mechanicals.

Unfortunately, there is no consensus on how much the actors should borrow from the Beijing opera convention, resulting in them being slightly stifled by the demands of the form and the presence of the water sleeves. 

That said, it should be noted that Ng Yuan Ci (Hermia) is most fluent in the form, as she uses various gestures to portray the besotted or spurned lover to great effect.

Ng Yuan Ci as Hermia and Wong Jin Yi as Helena / Photo: Bernie Ng

But what is truly on display is the versatility of the actors. Of note are Ruthi Lalrinawmi (Titania / Starveling) and Wan Ahmad (Oberon / Snout). Lalrinawmi seems to grow in stature as the graceful Titania while she seems dumpy as Starveling. Being the tallest in the cast, Wan’s height is unmistakable, but the commanding presence of Oberon and the goofy demeanour of Snout is night and day.

While Peh Jun Kai (Bottom) only plays one comedic role, he has full control on the comedic dial throughout the show. He turns it up when he transforms into a donkey, and plays it to the hilt as Thisbe in the play-within-the-play.

Daisy Zhao Xiaoqing’s (Puck / Snug)  interpretation of Puck is interesting. Beyond the usual playfulness, she occasionally flashes a sinister side to the prankster, which is seldom seen in most portrayals. 

Oliver S.K. Wu (Lysander) and Kaleem Zafar (Demetrius) occasionally struggle with the mountain of mawkish text as they try to woo the ladies, but their physical sequences, which are borrowed from Beijing opera, are entertaining to watch when both characters are at odds with each other.

To my mind, Helena is the most irritating character in the play, but my impression of her has been rehabilitated by Wong Jin Yi’s wry approach to the character. Her deadpan expressions and opportune asides to the audience make us sympathetic to her being subjected to the cold-and-hot treatment (no thanks to Puck’s intervention) by the Athenian men.  

Kaleem Zafar as Demetrius and Oliver S.K. Wu as Lysander / Photo: Bernie Ng

As it is a graduation production, it is understandably bare when it comes to the set (curtains of what looks like transparent acrylic strips) and sound (generic Chinese opera or Indian music to signify the entrance of the characters). 

The lack of stage effects may result in the show being rather dry, but it is a testament to the overall success of the show that the audience is engaged throughout the whole performance. 

And what a fitting end for ITI’s class of 2022! Undergoing three years of actor training during a pandemic must seem like a feverish dream for them. 

Other Reviews

Review: A Midsummer Night’s Dream by ITI 2022 Graduating Cohort” by Philippe Pang

剧评:A Midsummer Night’s Dream” by Neo Hai Bin, 剧读 thea.preter

Further Reading

[Interview] Director Aarne Neeme on ITI’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Digital Programme of A Midsummer Night’s Dream

[Interview] Puppet Origin Stories: Same Puppets, New Stories

L-R: Becca D’Bus (drag queen), Tan Wei Ting (film-maker), and Hairi Cromo (movement artist) / Photo courtesy of The Finger Players

As a company known for including puppets in its productions, The Finger Players has amassed an impressive collection of puppets. However, most contemporary puppets are created specifically for a production and are almost never used once the show is over.

In recent years, The Finger Players has been looking into sustainability in puppetry through programmes such as The Maker’s Lab. In its latest production, Puppet Origin Stories, co-artistic directors Ellison Tan Yuyang and Myra Loke invited three artists from various disciplines to breathe new life into the puppets and tell new stories.

I interviewed Becca D’Bus (drag queen), Tan Wei Ting (film-maker), and Hairi Cromo (movement artist) to find out more about their relationship with puppets and inspiration for their pieces.

Prior to this production, what does puppetry mean to you?

Becca: I grew up watching Sesame Street and listening to Victor Khoo and Charlie, so puppets have always been magical and fun for me. Later, I participated in my first protest action when I was in college in Boston mostly because it offered me an opportunity to operate a giant puppet down the street. For the most part, puppetry is not something I’m great at; I lack the hand-eye coordination. 

Hairi: To me, puppetry is magic. Puppetry has the power to create illusions by bringing to life the inanimate and the imagination.

Wei Ting: Before this production, I feel like I haven’t had enough of an encounter with puppetry to give it any real thought. I did watch many of The Finger Players’ shows because I am quite a fan of their works.

Becca D’Bus, Deonn Yang, and Mitchell Fang will perform in Suck Sweat Dry, Baby! by Becca D’Bus

What inspired you to create your piece?

Becca:  I fear that as a queer person, I live in a moment where we are not imagining hard enough and are insufficiently ambitious in what we want for ourselves, and I include myself in this. Suck Sweat Dry, Baby! is my attempt to paint a picture of what it feels like to be in this moment. 

Hairi: Jabber is inspired by my own childhood struggles. Upon recent reflection, I have recognised as an adult that these childhood experiences have affected me and my sense of self. This piece is in some part an attempt at coming to terms with these reflections, but ultimately it is inspired by the desire to have the emotional struggles of children be heard and validated by adults that would eventually help them overcome their insecurities. 

Wei Ting: At the start of the project, Myra and Ellison brought the three artists together to share with us all the puppets that we could choose from which are part of the Puppet Origin Stories. I remembered vividly that they laid out what looked like 20-30 puppets, and spent the first hour (or two) telling us the backstory of every puppet: how they were made, what shows were they part of, etc. Throughout the briefing, all I could think of was: “Can I play already?” That was the genesis of this piece.

It further crystallised when I met Tan Beng Tian for an interview. Beng Tian is the puppeteer who first worked with AH MA (the puppet I chose), and is who AH MA is sculpted after too. At the very end of the chat, I asked Beng Tian: “If you were a puppet, what puppet would you be?” At first, she said, “I think I will be a traditional puppet, so I can be preserved eternally in the museum.” She then quickly changed her mind and said “No! No! I think I want to be a contemporary puppet, so I can always be moving.” I think this piece, AH MA, is pretty much inspired by her.

The puppets used were created for previous productions by The Finger Players. Which puppets have you chosen for your piece and why?

Becca: I picked Samsui Woman, Sponge Girl and Moon Baby. I was looking for an incompatibility of size and aesthetic, and I liked the idea of puppets without faces. In part because I knew that they would appear in a VERY different context than their debuts. 

Hairi: I chose Peng and Faceless Maiden. I was the puppeteer of Peng in a recent performance by The Finger Players and have an understanding of the capabilities and potential of the puppet. Thus, I would like to explore him further.

As for Faceless Maiden, I have never manipulated a puppet of such a structure before. I was intrigued by its possibilities, particularly with my intention to include movement and dance elements in my process. I felt she would be an interesting tool to incorporate into the exploration of body physicality. 

Wei Ting: I chose a rod puppet, her name is AH MA. She is very fun to play with. She has this piece of thing in her head, when she drops it accidentally, she will temporarily forget parts of her memories. She was designed for a community show (A.i.D, Angels in Disguise) as a character who lives with Dementia. 

I initially chose it because I read that she was sculpted after the likes of Beng Tian, who is an actor-puppeteer whose craft I respect and admire a lot. After talking to Beng Tian and finding out more about her relationship with puppets and her journey as a puppeteer, I eventually wrote Beng Tian into the play, which she then graced with her presence as one of the performers of the piece!

Tan Beng Tian and Yazid Jalil will perform in AH MA by Tan Wei Ting

How has the process on working on this piece made you look anew at puppetry, as well as inform you about your own artistic discipline?

Becca: Before working on the show, I don’t think I had strong views about puppetry. Now, working with puppets has made me think about drag and performance-making in terms of images a lot more. 

Hairi: Often in puppetry, the puppeteer serves mainly to manipulate the puppet. In this process I have attempted to activate the actors’ bodies in their own right, thus having their physicality and physical expressions become an extension of the puppets’ characters and expand the breadth of the performance as a whole. 

The process has also impacted my practice particularly in the area of generating movement. Usually, I improvise through gestures and viewpoints, but this work has allowed me to think more about text and dialogue as jumping-off points for movement improvisations.

Wei Ting:  Puppetry to me is the inner child in all of us. That imagination that we all had (and hopefully still have) when we made our favourite toys come alive for the first time without ever needing to be taught how to! It’s an art as much as it’s an instinct.

AH MA is my first attempt to play with the theatre medium, which I find really fun. As a filmmaker, I sometimes find it harder to play because the end result is a fixed piece of work that is sealed in time. I’m a terrible perfectionist, and I tend to craft every little detail of it in post-production, which can be rewarding in terms of artistic control. AH MA gives me that liberation to really enjoy the process because the end show is not within my control. Every show is a little different, and in every show and rehearsal, the performers, stage management team, and I would think even AH MA, bring something a little different each time, keeping each encounter and experience alive. 

I think this liberation is something I will bring along with me after this piece ends its course.

Liew Jia Yi and Chai Jean Yinn will perform in Jabber by Hairi Cromo

Were there any interesting discoveries in the rehearsal process?

Becca: That I might be allergic to dust. Also, I can look quite booby!

Hairi: The entire process is one big interesting discovery! As this is my first attempt to both write and direct my own work, every step is a first step and an opportunity of learning.

Wei Ting: Yes. So many that I don’t know where to begin. But I think they are more in relation to the background that I come from. 

I think the purpose of film and theatre are very similar, which is to tell stories. One happens on stage, one happens on screen. But the way of working within the creation process is drastically different. When I make a film, I often have to carry the project all the way from start to end myself. I pick up many collaborators along the way, they add a little something to the story, most of them don’t ever meet each other, and I continue on to the next phase with the project myself. Mostly, I start and end the filmmaking process myself.

But in theatre, it is a lot more collaborative. Once you hand the show over to the actors and the stage management team, they are the ones meeting the audience every night and theatre happens in that space every night without you. Even when you are there, you are not a contributor to the piece, but just an audience. I feel much more like a midwife in this process! And my role is to create a creative environment for everyone to tell this story together. It can only be done together, there isn’t any other way, which, honestly, is really, really nice. 


Catch It!

Puppet Origin Stories will run from 9 to 13 November 2022 at One-Two-Six Cairnhill Arts Centre

[Interview] Director Aarne Neeme on ITI’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Courtesy of Intercultural Theatre Institute

The final graduation production for the 2022 cohort of the Intercultural Theatre Institute (ITI) is A Midsummer Night’s Dream. True to the ethos of the institute, this production features various performance traditions. I interviewed director Aarne Neeme to find out more about the show.

Why did you choose A Midsummer Night’s Dream as the production for the students to work on?

The choice of the graduation play is a group decision by the teaching staff — relating largely to the student needs and composition. This year we had a relatively large number of talented students, including strong women, which A Midsummer Night’s Dream gave opportunities for, together with the challenges of a Shakespearean play. While I have directed well over a dozen of his creations, this is my first encounter with the Dream, and I am relishing it!

Why did you decide to weave in Beijing opera, Kutiyattam, and Wayang Wong, performing traditions in which students have received some training in, into the show? How did you decide on which characters in the play would take a particular tradition?

One of the aims of ITI is to draw from the rich resources of both traditional Eastern and Western forms. Given the four layers of the play (the Spirit world, Athenian Court, Mechanicals and the “Performance”), it seemed an ideal opportunity to utilise elements of the training to delineate them. While there is no attempt to fully replicate any of the forms, we have simply used aspects to illuminate the differing worlds of the play.

India was the main source of most theatre in Asia, and with its spiritual beliefs, seemed to be the most appropriate for the world of Oberon and Titania. While the formality and morality of Chinese Opera befitted the Athenian aristocracy. This left the largely movement based style of Wayang Wong to the working men, with a touch of Elizabethan theatre for the play-within-the-play.

Courtesy of Intercultural Theatre Institute

What are some of the difficulties in working on the show especially in negotiating across four theatrical traditions?

The greatest challenge is the poetic Elizabeth language (even for native-born English speakers!). Sir Peter Hall puts it as: “The first question that the actor must ask about a Shakespearean speech is not who he is playing or what the character wants, first he must ask WHAT the character says and HOW he says it. The reverse of modern practice.” The delivery requires an understanding of sound and placement to enrich meaning. There was no confusion of traditions in specific characters, as they each belonged to separate forms.

Were there any interesting discoveries in the rehearsal process?

I was struck by the universal similarities of theatre presentation — story-telling through action with the imaginative power of poetry, abetted by music and dance, all on a bare stage lit by the audiences’ imagination. Also our shared human vagaries of being in love confused by infatuation, dream and fantasy, with society’s attempts to control it through reason, rules and the order of marriage. The play presents eight variations of love’s entanglements, leading finally to three marriages, a reconciliation, a meaningless encounter and the ultimate heroic foolishness of dying for love.


Catch It!

A Midsummer Night’s Dream runs from 3-5 November 2022 at the Esplanade Theatre Studio.

[Theatre Review] The Fourth Trimester by Checkpoint Theatre Brings Up Gravid Issues

Samantha (Isabella Chiam) and Aaron (Joshua Lim) struggle to care for their newborn / Photo: Crispian Chan

The Fourth Trimester
Checkpoint Theatre
4 August 2022
Drama Centre Theatre
4–14 August 2022

Getting pregnant and giving birth may seem like the most natural thing to some of us. But to do so safely and ensuring the child thrives can be absolutely mind-boggling.

Faith Ng’s The Fourth Trimester features three couples and a single woman who span the spectrum of circumstances regarding pregnancy. 

Samantha (Isabella Chiam) and Aaron (Joshua Lim) struggle to care for their newborn. In contrast, their neighbours, Sofia (Rusydina Afiqah) and Johan (Al-Matin Yatim) struggle to conceive. While Lisa (Julie Wee) and Daniel (Hang Qian Chou) seem to be doing fine with two children, their communication problems regarding intimacy issues strain the marriage. Having just come out of a relationship, Ann (Oon Shu An), who is Lisa’s sister, strives to be independent as she faces the attendant pressures of being a single woman in Singapore.

While medicine has progressed by leaps and bounds, pregnancy is still a very personal process with each body responding in different ways. As someone who has yet to witness the pregnancy of a partner, the choices that Samantha and Sofia have to consider are bewildering. 

The acronyms and abbreviations of various readings or medical processes rattled off by the characters will give any rapper a run for his money. And the pump-and-rest routine, recommended by the lactation expert for Samantha, sounds like a manic choreography created by an evil robot. 

Add the emotional burden of self-doubt; comparing oneself to others; and familial and societal expectations, it sounds nothing short of a messy ordeal. 

Far from avoiding it, Ng takes a deep dive into the messiness of human relationships and writes them in very affecting ways.

From the audience members cooing in sympathy with the opening scene to the countless post-show Instagram stories yapping about how “relatable” the play is, it is clear that the audience is in for the ride at every second of the three-hour emotional odyssey. 

However, all these knee-jerk reactions overlook something that director Claire Wong has done that is rarely achieved. She allows the scenes to breathe and run its emotional course. Many directors often cut their scenes short after a revelation or climax, almost apologetic about taking up the audience’s time.

This is complemented by the actors experiencing every crinkle of emotion. Witness Isabella Chiam as Samantha going from anxiousness to anguish, before picking herself up; or Julie Wee’s Lisa starting with annoyance, but ending with red-faced rage. 

The other characters have similar moments as they cycle through the whole gamut of emotions, undergirded by an inability to articulate, or expecting the other to know and fulfil one’s physical and emotional needs. This makes the relationship familiar and infuriating, yet all too human.

That said, how everything settles into the ending is a little unsatisfactory. As we are taken to such emotional highs and lows, the way the show ends feels as if it is because the allotted time of three hours is up. 

At the curtain call, director Claire Wong mentioned that the production took many trimesters for it to be put together. For a play that makes one feel so much and reflect on so many issues, it will be remembered for many more trimesters hence. 

Other Reviews

“Theatre review: The Fourth Trimester is a must-watch play about parenthood” by Olivia Ho, The Straits Times Life! (Review is behind a paywall. Read the partial transcript here.)

“Pandemic era’s first essential Singapore play” by Helmi Yusof, The Business Times (Review is behind a paywall. Read the partial transcript here.)

“[Review] Parenthood™️ and Other Rites of Passage — The Fourth Trimester” by Cheryl Charli, Arts Republic

“★★★☆☆ Review: The Fourth Trimester by Checkpoint Theatre” by Bak Chor Mee Boy

“Theatre review: The Fourth Trimester play at the Drama Centre Theatre” by Amanda Broad, HoneyKids