Theatre

[Interview] God of Carnage by Nine Years Theatre: Director and Cast Chat about Disagreements and Civility

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Nine Years Theatre heralds the start of its 2026 season by revisiting Yasmina Reza’s oeuvre, and staging a Mandarin adaptation of God of Carnage.

Director Nelson Chia and his cast (Mia Chee, Oon Shu Ann, Cavin Soh, and Tay Kong Hui) shed more light on the show and ponder about some of the themes in the following interview.

Synopsis
Two boys fight.
Four adults sit down to “talk things over civilly”.

In God of Carnage, Veronica and Michael invite Annette and Alan to their home to address their sons’ misbehaviour. Armed with art books, tulips, and homemade pastry, they are determined to handle the matter with grace and maturity.

But as the evening wears on, a relentlessly ringing phone, a missing hamster, and a bottle of fine rum become catalysts for an elegant evening gone spectacularly off the rails. Winner of both the Tony Award and the Laurence Olivier Award, this play reveals how alarmingly fragile our social facades become under pressure.

God of Carnage marks the second time Nine Years Theatre is adapting a work by Yasmina Reza. What is it about her writing that speaks to you, and why do you think it is important to stage this particular work now?

Nelson Chia: In her plays, Yasmina Reza often creates complex characters who are relatable because they are so flawed. This is achieved through dialogue that is nuanced and, at times, interestingly ambiguous. More importantly, I appreciate how she brings out difficult issues through comedic situations; laughter can sometimes be more effective than lectures.

Just look at the world we are living in now—the rule-based order has gone out of the window. This work seems important now because civility might just be a hoax.

What were some interesting insights that came out of the rehearsal process?

Nelson Chia: In my discussions with the cast, I came to realise that this is a play that starts out as a comedy and ends like a tragedy, yet is nothing less than an existential piece with the possibility of hope as an aftertaste.

Mia Chee: One of the most meaningful parts of the rehearsal process was how much we shared about our own relationships, both personal ones and relationships we have observed around us. We could all identify with different moments in the play. Human beings can behave and react very differently depending on the environment and the person they are interacting with. Nothing is ever absolute. People are complex beings who are influenced by context. As we continue rehearsing, we are discovering something new about the characters each day. What is so wonderful about this script is how real these characters can be, despite some incredible turns.

Tay Kong Hui: The production originates from a Western comedic tradition, yet its core themes—family values, personal belief systems, marital relationships, and child-rearing—took on new dimensions when placed on an Asian stage. Through the rehearsal process, we observed an intriguing interplay between Western narrative structures and Eastern ways of thinking, creating unexpected and meaningful cultural resonance.

Cavin Soh: I discovered that civility is basically a thin coat of paint and it chips very fast. The more seriously we played the stakes, the funnier it became.

Oon Shu An: This play gets really specific with conflict, and the characters hold on to their convictions so strongly that they cannot seem to resolve the conflict. It sounds silly, but I didn’t realise how much it would invite our own strong convictions into the conversation, and I think it will do the same for the audience. It has been so much fun working through the occasional heatedness and into the invigorating space of deep convictions meeting.

L-R: Oon Shu An and Mia Chee in rehearsal / Courtesy of Nine Years Theatre

How has your involvement in this production inform your outlook on dealing with disagreements?

Nelson Chia: It is a great reminder that we sometimes disagree not because we cannot understand one another, but because we care about different things in our lives—and that is hard to reconcile.

Mia Chee: I wish I could say this production has completely transformed how I deal with disagreements, but honestly, not quite. Ha! What it has reinforced for me is that I value my peace more than “winning” an argument, especially with people outside my family. There is a line somewhere, a boundary that, if crossed, only leads to rage or unnecessary damage on both sides.

That said, when it comes to truly important issues, I do believe in putting my foot down. I have been learning and am still learning how to express differences in a way that is elegant, clear, and effective. It is a lifelong process, and I suspect I will still be figuring it out even when I am well into old age.

Tay Kong Hui: This experience reinforced the understanding that even the most valid perspectives depend greatly on how they are expressed, to what extent, and at what moment. Absolute frankness or excessive politeness alone is not necessarily the most effective way to resolve a conflict. A multi-dimensional, multi-perspective approach to disagreement is far more constructive than relying on a single viewpoint or rigid belief system to address complex issues.

Cavin Soh: It’s made me realise most arguments aren’t about the actual issue; they’re about ego. Once pride enters the chat, logic quietly leaves the room.

Oon Shu An: I genuinely think I’ve gotten better at it… Hahaha! It brings you right into the thick of conflict! It doesn’t quite allow you to settle in a “middle ground” of a disagreement, which has really made me examine my opinions; how I express them, recognising sensitivities (my own included); and examining one’s approach. It’s excellent practice for 对事不对人 (dealing with the issue, not the person).

Nelson is very exacting and at the same time very open and reflective, I feel very lucky to be working with a director and cast who are robust in their approach and kind in the room.

Front-Back: Cavin Soh, Tay Kong Hui, and Oon Shu An in rehearsal / Courtesy of Nine Years Theatre

The veneer of civility washes off in the course of the play. In your opinion, where is the line between civility and incivility? When is it ok to be “uncivil”

Nelson Chia: I’d just say this: We equate civility with progress, and humans seem to be the only living things that are obsessed with that idea. How odd is that?

Mia Chee: Civility is a social construct. Different societies and cultures define it differently. So what does it really mean to be “uncivil”? Is it raising your voice? Stopping polite conversation? Walking away? Or escalating to something physical? There are many degrees of what we might label as uncivil behaviour.

Perhaps the question is not about when it is okay to be uncivil, but more about with whom. The boundaries shift depending on the relationship. It is really important to have at least one relationship in your life where you can drop the performance of social politeness and do not always have to operate within the expectations carved out by society. True intimacy allows space for moments that are not perfectly “civil”, but are honest.

Tay Kong Hui: True peace, calm, and reconciliation must be grounded in fairness and balance—not imposed from a presumed position of moral or cultural superiority. What is often labeled as “civility” can, at times, mask a form of ideological dominance, where one standard of behavior is used to diminish or invalidate another.

Personally, when confronted with what I would describe as an uncivilized form of so-called civilization, I hold to one principle: if civility demands submission or self-erasure, then it loses its moral authority. In such moments, dignity lies not in compliance, but in asserting one’s voice and values with clarity and self-respect.

Cavin Soh: Civility is great until it becomes fake. I think it’s ok to be firm, blunt or even a little uncomfortable. But it’s not ok to be cruel. The line is crossed when you stop focusing on the issue and start attacking the person.

Oon Shu An: I guess incivility would be things like rudeness, no mutual respect, harmful behaviour. We are human so we make mistakes and we all have different world views and things may read differently. So it’s probably good to check if it truly was incivility first—clarifying intentions, and if it’s safe, open opportunities for repair in the case that it may have been a misunderstanding, and extend grace to others and ourselves when we mess up.

When is it ok to be “uncivil”? I actually don’t think we owe “politeness” or “civility” at the expense of our safety. When there is a power differential that’s being exploited, when there has been a violation of a social contract, abuse, manipulation, harm, discrimination. In those instances, the perpetrators are often banking on people being “civil” whilst being at the receiving end of injustice or harm. They’re not actually asking for civility, they’re asking for permission to continue harm, which is very different.

Catch It!

God of Carnage runs from 20 to 29 March 2026 at The Ngee Ann Kongsi Theatre @ Funan.

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[Interview] SIFA Festival Director Natalie Hennedige on Tomorrow and Tomorrow Incubator Programme

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Natalie Hennedige, SIFA’s Festival Director / Courtesy of Arts House Limited

Launched in 2024, Tomorrow and tomorrow is an incubation programme by the Singapore International Festival of the Arts (SIFA) in which theatre groups can present their works-in-progress to an audience.

To find out more about the incubation programme and how some of the works in that programme have developed since, I caught up with Festival Director Natalie Hennedige.

What was your vision for SIFA’s Tomorrow and tomorrow incubator programme when it was introduced in 2024?

Tomorrow and tomorrow was conceived as a platform to enable fertile artistic ground to flourish with works receiving a process showing at the Festival.  Stamford Arts Centre was transformed into a sandbox of works-in-process, opening up vistas for future presentations and unearthing Singapore’s fertile ground for contemporary theatre-making.

Ten local theatre groups were invited during the 2024 edition to bring their processes and working methodologies to the fore before audiences who would witness nascent ideas at play. Tomorrow and tomorrow became a platform not only for exploratory ideas, but also for showcasing the dynamic voices shaping Singapore’s theatre landscape, reflecting SIFA’s commitment to nurturing and celebrating local artistic process and innovation.

What is unique about Tomorrow and tomorrow, as compared to other incubator initiatives?

What sets Tomorow and tomorrow apart was the opportunity for audiences to experience a showcase of diverse, in-progress works by ten established local theatre groups, presented together on a single platform. That apart, Stamford Arts Centre became a larger canvas with visual artists commissioned to install works specific to the physical qualities of the center. We also had musicians in nooks and crannies charging the building with experimental sound. 

Crucially, Tomorrow and tomorrow shows also eschewed a price tag—creating a space that was open and accessible to all who sought deeper, more unexpected connections. It encouraged engagement through observation, interaction, and conversation, free from the commercial expectations that often frame artistic encounters. At its core, the initiative was about witnessing the genesis of ideas and being part of a living, evolving tapestry of Singaporean theatre and expression.

Waiting For Audience by Nine Years Theatre and hello, is this working? by Drama Box were part of the 2024 incubator programme, and they are being presented as full-fledged productions in SIFA 2025. Why were these two works selected?

Waiting For Audience captures the inextricable link between the theatre and its audience, reflecting too an artform as old as time and how its vitality endures. This resonates with SIFA 2025’s MORE THAN EVER frame, which encompasses why more than ever the arts matters.

hello, is this working? returns under very different conditions; the first iteration of the work occurred in one of Stamford Arts Centre’s rooms. In 2025, it takes place at the SIFA Pavilion at Bedok Town Square in response to the context of the space which includes the neighbourhood bustle and a colossal installation stage doubling as a stage by visual artist Wang Ruobing. All these contribute to an extremely evolved version. It will be exciting to have witnessed the evolution of these works or to encounter them as a first. 

Looking back on your tenure as SIFA’s festival director and your artistic career, what does Singapore’s arts ecosystem need more of to foster a vibrant arts scene?

An international festival plays a critical role in shaping Singapore’s arts landscape. It serves as a nexus for experimentation, exchange, and discourse—bringing artists and audiences together to engage meaningfully through the arts.

Beyond fostering artistic dialogue, a festival like SIFA amplifies the visibility of homegrown talent, situating local artists within a global context and creating opportunities for collaboration that drive both artistic and professional growth. It also deepens public engagement by presenting multifaceted perspectives, encouraging audiences to encounter and interpret works through a critical lens.

Singapore’s arts ecosystem benefits from such efforts that connect artists across borders and support long-term artistic development. As a small but vibrant nation, we are constantly negotiating between the local and the global. SIFA mirrors this dual gaze, fostering regional and international collaborations that open pathways for new creations and deeper artistic inquiry.

In varied ways, Singapore artists have made their presence felt on the international performing arts stage. Take Ramesh Meyyappan, for instance—a Glasgow-based Singaporean theatremaker who creates prolifically in the UK and helms LEAR, a reimagining of Shakespeare’s King Lear for SIFA 2025. Though based abroad, Meyyappan remains deeply connected to the arts scene here.

In commissioning LEAR, the Festival not only brings a bold new work to local audiences, but also showcases the vibrancy and reach of Singapore’s arts ecosystem—one that nurtures talent with international resonance. The production is set to travel to Traverse Theatre in Edinburgh and Aberdeen following its premiere at SIFA, further extending the reach of Singaporean artistry to global audiences.

The Singapore International Festival of Arts runs from 16 May to 1 June 2025.

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[Interview] Myle Yan Tay on his latest play, “Statement Piece”

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Playwright Myle Yan Tay (seated left) with director Claire Wong (seated right) and the cast (standing L-R): Tricia Tan, Rusydina Afiqah, and Huzir Sulaiman (also the dramaturg). / Courtesy of Checkpoint Theatre

After the the success of Brown Boys Don’t Tell Jokes (2023) in which playwright Myle Yan Tay looks at male friendships, race, and politics, he is back with a new play, which focuses on the purpose of art in Statement Piece.

I caught up with him to find out more about the play, which kicks off Checkpoint Theatre’s 2025 season.

Synopsis
Two weeks after a loss that reverberates through the nation, a young gallerist prepares for her first exhibition. Lily has endured constant pressure from her formidable boss, spent countless hours on research, revved up the public for a buzzworthy show – everything for the perfect opening that will cement her name in the art world. The months of suffering are about to pay off at last.

But when the final painting arrives, hand-delivered by the reclusive Gopal Rangaraj himself, she is horrified. With the entire exhibition—and her fledgling career—on the line, even the surprise visit from her artist girlfriend Marjia can’t cushion the gravity of the situation.

As three different worldviews collide, how much should be sacrificed in the name of Art?

What inspired you to write Statement Piece?

While studying in Chicago, I was spending a lot of time with American artists and having conversations about freedom of speech, the ethics of representation, and the peculiar challenges of being an artist in our era. I’d share Singapore idiosyncrasies with my peers about art-making, which led to me thinking deeper about how Singapore’s art world works and its relationship with our existing systems. These ideas eventually took root and led to Statement Piece.

As your main artistic practice is the the literary arts, what made you choose the visual arts as the main context of the plot?

I write prose and plays, review movies, and host a podcast about comic books—medium is always on my mind. What does one medium do that another can’t? Plays don’t have page-turns, comic books don’t have line breaks, and the central painting in Statement Piece has no dialogue.

Art is only finished when it’s viewed by its audience, but the way an audience finishes the work varies greatly depending on the media. I wanted to put interpretation front and centre in this script, to ask questions about what it means to look at a work, what we are doing when we try to “understand” art. We’re always trying to finish the work we’re looking at, whether it’s subconscious or not. Bringing the painting into the theatre is my way of making that process explicit.

What is the biggest challenge in writing this play?

The biggest challenge of writing this play was probably its relationship to the art world. I want it to feel authentic but I also don’t want to be bogged down by the details. I want the script to be accessible and open, so anyone can approach its ideas without feeling boxed out. The Checkpoint Theatre development process has been integral to finding this balance.

The cast rehearsing Statement Piece. / Courtesy of Checkpoint Theatre

Were there any interesting discoveries seeing your characters come to life in rehearsals?

It’s not quite a discovery but it really is always such a joy to watch this world you built come to life. The joy of playwriting is that you get to hand it off to other people, and when those people are as talented, thoughtful, and generous as Claire Wong, Huzir Sulaiman, Tricia Tan, Rusydina Afiqah, and all the other incredible people in the art, set, lighting, sound, costume, and make-up team, you’re very very lucky.

What is the most pressing issue or question that Singaporean artists should think about?

I don’t think I can prescribe a single issue to every Singaporean artist. If anything, the question every Singaporean artist should be asking themselves is, “what do I want from my work?” Because that’s really the only thing you can control.

Do you want to create societal change? Do you want to provide emotional catharsis? Do you want to make people laugh? All of these are valid questions and should be guiding how we make our work. It really depends on what is personally most important to them, which is actually one of the central questions of Statement Piece.

Catch It!

Statement Piece runs from 3 to 13 April 2025 at the Drama Centre Black Box.

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[Theatre Review] Hard Mode by Checkpoint Theatre: Heartfelt Mission with Too Many Side Quests

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L-R: Arissa (Janine Ng), Adam (Chaney Chia), Maya (Kyra Lefebvre) / Photo: Joseph Nair / Courtesy of Checkpoint Theatre

Hard Mode
Checkpoint Theatre
24 October 2024
SOTA Drama Theatre
18-26 October 2024

In Faith Ng’s Hard Mode, we are drawn into a world of BTS, Discord, TikTok dances, and buying multiple copies of the same album just to have all the variations of the album’s cover art. 

But it is also a world of neglect, self-harm, uncertainty, and unhealthy relationships. 

In primary school, shy Adam formed an unlikely friendship with the clownish Rian, and nerdy XY, as they call themselves the Sengkang Gang and go on all sorts of adventures. Adjacent to the boys are Arissa (Adam’s older sister) and Maya (Arissa’s best friend and Adam’s love interest).   

As the quintet goes into their teens, the academic and societal pressures become more acute, while they also have to navigate diverging paths, emotional baggage from their parents, and school politics. 

Ng’s meticulous year-long research into the struggles of local teenagers is evident as she carefully weaves many of them into her characters’ lives. Unfortunately, her tapestry is so large that most of the struggles are presented as highlights; quick mentions or hints in some monologues.

But Ng’s ambition does not stop there. She added a metatheatrical element in which characters are occasionally aware they are in a play to resist the sense of inevitability that realism brings. 

Additionally, the timeline of the play toggles between different points in the future and the present. This is indicated by a crew member walking across the stage with a sign showing the year, which adds an unnecessary cognitive load to the audience; we have to do the mental arithmetic to figure the age of the characters and reorientate ourselves. 

Perhaps, these additions are Ng’s way to reassure her largely adolescent audience that they are going to survive their teenage years somehow. But with a run time of 135 minutes, Hard Mode has simply too many side quests. 

Photo: Joseph Nair / Courtesy of Checkpoint Theatre

Yet, it must be noted that, for a generation that is often derided for their miniscule attention spans, the teenagers were engaged throughout the show. 

It may be easy to put that down to BTS’s discography that signals scene changes or Ng having Gen Alpha’s lingo down pat, which send the teenagers grooving or chortling in their seats.

But it would be remiss of me not to point out director Claire Wong’s ability to build a tight-knit ensemble out of the cast: Chaney Chia (Adam), Izzul Irfan (Rian), Janine Ng (Arissa), Kyra Lefebvre (Maya), and Matthias Teh (XY). A strong chemistry is evident across all cast members as they effortlessly pick up on each other’s cues, and keep the energy going. 

Kudos should go to the cast for their subtleties in their physicality as they shift from being unsure and slightly jittery to being more self-assured in their 20s. That said, the choice to speak in a higher pitch to portray youth sometimes limits the dexterity of their vocal timbre, which hampers the impact of certain emotional moments.

During the particular performance I attended, sign language interpreters Azzam and Fang Shawn share the stage with the cast. They are not merely relegated to the sides, but are placed close enough to the action, but not obstructing the characters. The inclusion of the interpreters are thoughtful and not a tokenistic gesture. 

The expressiveness of the interpreters adds an interesting alternative to what is going on stage, and I found myself referring to them at a particularly emotional or tense scene just as a comparison. 

This makes me wonder how do d/Deaf audience members experience the show as it is difficult to watch both the interpreters and actors at the same time. 

Sengkang Squad: Rian (Izzul Irfan), Adam (Chaney Chia), XY (Matthias Teh) / Photo: Joseph Nair / Courtesy of Checkpoint Theatre

The costume choices by Max Tan and hairstyling by Leong adeptly aid in changing the looks of the characters at different ages. 

For example, Rian morphs from the graphic t-shirt and circular, almost bowl-shaped hairstyle (achieved through a partial wig) of his jocular youth to the plain short-sleeved shirt and a crisp side parting of his corporate adult life. How the change is achieved, especially the hairstyle, in such a short time is no mean feat. 

Set and lighting design by Petrina Dawn Tan, in collaboration with lighting co-designer Tan Zi Feng, creates the feel of a K-pop music video. 

The set comprises three rolling L-shaped platforms in pastel colours that make up the dining, living room, and bedroom of the house that Adam and Arissa live in. There are light strips that run across walls of the platforms that form what looks like a sunrise or sunset. In certain scene changes, the light strips light up gradually, as if ushering in the entrance of a singer in a pop concert. There are also laser-light effects that demarcate the stage for scenes in other settings. 

The juxtaposition of the whimsical set and laser-like effects against the struggles of the teenagers places the latter in a liminal space—there is tension between the demands of reality and the comfort of K-pop fandom, make-believe, and dreams. 

Seeing the teenagers in the theatre taking countless selfies and hand swiping to APT. by Rosé and Bruno Mars, it is easy to dismiss them as disruptive and irrational.

But be it going to BTS’s Magic Shop or retreating to nostalgic reverie; a quest to the boss level or life’s odyssey—perhaps it is about embracing these polarities and truly listening to each other so that life need not be on hard mode all the time.  

Further Reading

Programme booklet for Hard Mode

“Checkpoint Theatre’s Hard Mode takes Gen Zers and Gen Alphas on their own terms” by Clement Yong, The Straits Times Life!

Other Reviews

“Theatre review: Hard Mode gives youth and its obsessions full, unprejudiced treatment” by Clement Yong, The Straits Times Life! (Review is behind a paywall. Read the partial transcript here.)

“Review: Wong Yong En on Hard Mode by Faith Ng (Checkpoint Theatre)” by Wong Yong En, Critics Circle Blog

“[Theatre Show Review] Finally, a realistic depiction of Singapore’s family units in ‘Hard Mode’, a play about Gen Alpha” by Marcus Goh

[Theatre Review] tick, tick… BOOM! by Sight Lines: Tick… Tick… Pop…

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Turning 30 and not achieving one’s dreams / Photo: Bernie Ng / Courtesy of Sight Lines

tick, tick… BOOM!
Sight Lines
6 July 2024, 3 p.m.
KC Arts Centre
5–14 July 2024

The onomatopoeic title of Jonathan Larson’s semi-autobiographical musical refers to the existential angst of not achieving one’s dreams. Throw in pesky everyday realities—the AIDS epidemic; keeping the lights on; and age creeping up on you—and it feels like life is going to blow up. 

Written before Rent (1996)—which gave Jonathan Larson the recognition that he wanted, albeit posthumously—Larson expresses his frustration of his musicals not being accepted by Broadway through a rock monologue, originally performed as a solo act with backing musicians.

Preston Lim as Jon, a struggling musical composer / Photo: Crispian Chan / Courtesy of Sight Lines

On first hearing the songs from tick, tick… BOOM!, it is easy to see why Broadway in the 1980s–early 1990s were not receptive to his music: overly repetitive melody lines, shoe-horning more words into a bar than necessary, and rock music being a relatively new genre in the world of musicals. 

Yet, on further listening, it becomes clear that Larson does this on purpose with a glint in his eye, rather than a lack of skill. “Sunday” proves he is adept at gorgeous harmonies; “Therapy” shows his comic chops with a country twang; and “Come to your Senses” testifies that he can write a heartfelt, soulful song. 

After his death, playwright David Auburn was brought in to revise the script to include Michael (Jon’s best friend) and Susan (Jon’s dancer girlfriend) with some dramatised scenes in between the songs. This allows the show to be performed by other actors, expanding the dramatic possibilities of a rock confessional to a full-fledged musical.

L-R: Eric Larrea, Vanessa Kee, Preston Lim, Ryan Ang, Beatrice Jaymes Pung / Photo: Bernie Ng / Courtesy of Sight Lines

Unfortunately, in Sight Line’s production of tick, tick… BOOM!, director Derrick Chew did not explore the dramatic possibilities of those scenes to the fullest extent. They feel rushed and are not allowed to settle before the song comes on. This impedes us from sympathising with the characters, especially in pivotal moments such as Michael revealing a very personal predicament to Jon.

 While Preston Lim (Jon) hits the right notes in his singing, his portrayal of the struggling composer is quite studied. One does not feel the stakes of Jon needing to complete the musical before the showcase; or not wanting Susan to leave him in “See Her Smile”; or his disdain for the self-important customers in the diner where he worked, before slipping into “Sunday”, a comic satire. 

Perhaps it might be the nerves of the opening weekend, but one hopes that Lim can enjoy the process more and, like the person he’s portraying, throw himself into the role in the subsequent shows.

Jon (Preston Lim) in “Sunday” / Photo: Bernie Ng / Courtesy of Sight Lines

That said, there is much to commend the production for. 

Ryan Ang’s (Michael) camp antics serve as a nice counterpoint to the neuroses of his best friend, Jon. The sheer abandon in his tomfoolery in “No More”—as Jon and Michael explore the latter’s apartment after Michael gave up acting for marketing research—makes you long for your teenage years and those hours spent mucking about with your best friend.

Despite the best friends getting the most stage time, Vanessa Kee (Susan) and Beatrice Jaymes Pung (Karessa, an actress in Jon’s musical showcase) steal the show with a stirring rendition of “Come to your Senses”—a brilliant mix of technique and emotion that expresses longing.

Both women also display a great deal of versatility. Witness Kee’s marionette-like movements while singing quickly in “Therapy”, a song that encapsulates the misunderstandings and absurdities of a couple’s quarrel. Pung pulls off both the experienced Rosa Stevens (Jon’s agent who has a strong Brooklyn accent), and flirtatious young actress, Karessa, like it is a walk in Central Park.

Apart from proving that he can portray middle-aged men of all kinds (from the jaded bodega owner to the camp dance instructor), Eric Larrea has a strong singing voice with a bright tone. It is a shame that one could only hear a few solo notes from him in “Johnny Can’t Decide”, and I would love to see more of him in future productions. 

Susan (Vanessa Kee) and Jon (Preston Lim) quarrel in “Therapy” / Photo: Bernie Ng / Courtesy of Sight Lines

Despite the small performance area, it is wonderful that choreographers Tan Rui Shan and Hafiz Hosni are not constrained by it. The clever use of space, playful partner work, and dynamic transitions kept the energy high, and the audience engaged.

Set designer Eucien Chia achieves the remarkable feat of recreating Larson’s grungy Greenwich apartment while ensuring that several other locales in New York can be easily configured by shifting a certain set piece or prop.

No detail is neglected as the posters in the alley reflect the socio-political zeitgeist of the time, and the papers that Jon handles are facsimiles of Jonathan Larson’s actual notes.

Add the light trusses and prominent lighting rigs by lighting designer Michael Chan, and we get a larger-than-life quality to the show—the struggles of an artist writ large.

Jon is besotted with Karessa (Beatrice Jaymes Pung) / Photo: Crispian Chan / Courtesy of Sight Lines

While Sight Lines’ foray into musical theatre was not a homerun (who gets it on the first try?), it definitely has potential. With its ambitious 2025 season on the horizon, one cannot wait to see what the earnestness and boldness of the company yields.

Other Reviews

“Theatre review: Tick, Tick… Boom! is fun and relatable to Singaporean audiences” by Charmaine Lim, The Straits Times Life!

“[Theatre Review] Tick, Tick… Boom! Resonates with Singaporean Audiences” by Alvin, Alvinology Media

[Theatre Review] Little Shop of Horrors by Sing’Theatre: Bloomin’ Entertaining

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Photo: Poh Yu Khing / Sing’Theatre

Little Shop of Horrors
Sing’Theatre
14 April 2024
SOTA Drama Theatre
12–28 April 2024

If you think about it, Little Shop of Horrors is ludicrous. 

The plot is an over-the-top cautionary tale about the insatiable nature of ambition and greed personified (or “botanified”?) by an ever-hungry man-eating plant. The references in Howard Ashman’s lyrics and Alan Menken’s music are indulgent pastiches of their favourite aspects of 1950s and 1960s pop culture.

Seymour is a bumbling and innocent orphan who was taken in by Mr Musnik to work at his flower store. His interest in exotic plants leads him to acquire an odd plant which he names Audrey II, after his colleague whom he has a crush on. In a chance encounter, Seymour discovers that the plant seems to only thrive on human blood, and things go downhill as the plant grows along with its voracious appetite.

So why would one sit through two hours only to be given a superficial message of not feeding the plant? 

The energetic and delightful performances by the cast. 

Andrew Marko is endearing as the earnest Seymour who goes out of his way to do anything for the plant and Audrey. He proves to be quite versatile being able to sing, dance, puppeteer Audrey II (when it was small), and react to Audrey II wanting to bite others.

While the characters in this musical are largely sketches, Audrey is given more character development. She presents herself as a ditzy airhead due to a low self-esteem and trauma from abusive relationships, but deep down, she wants more out of life.

Vanessa Kee portrays the ditzy side of Audrey with high-pitched squeaks and tottering on high heels, but adjusts her vocals—due to the exigencies of singing—to deliver a wistful and heartfelt rendition of “Somewhere That’s Green”.  The contrast is too stark and it feels that Kee is playing two different characters rather than showing different facets of the same person. 

On top of his directing duties, TJ Taylor somehow manages to find time to understudy the role of Mr Mushnik and gives him more depth than just a grumpy old man. 

Photo: Poh Yu Khing / Sing’Theatre

AJ Alingalan (Crystal), Nurulhuda Hassan (Ronette), and Marissa Vojodi (Chiffon) rich vocal harmonies and sassy attitude as the street urchins are entertaining. And Honey Gluttony (aka Tony Tong) voicing Audrey II is great fun and unnerving at the same time.

Benjamin Koh plays Orin, Audrey’s sadistic dentist boyfriend, and a slew of characters offering Seymour lucrative deals in “The Meek Shall Inherit”. Koh plays all the characters to the hilt, lending the show grittiness and hilarity equally. 

To top it all off, given that the musicians (Elaine Chan, Jane Foo, Lee Lin Chow, Lee Fengheng) are hidden behind the set, and do not have a direct view of the performers, the spot-on coördination across the music, singing, and other cues is impressive.   

While the stage seems quite small for a musical, Wong Chee Wai’s set design cleverly makes use of every space available to bring Skid Row to life. The main set piece is the interior of Mr Mushnik’s store, but with just a screen coming down, we are immediately sent to the back of the store. Other neat tricks like the moving hands of the clock and a quick tap on the wall to change the store sign adds to the overall delight of the show. 

Just as Seymour got his strange plant after a “total eclipse of the sun”, I caught the show a few days after a solar eclipse by coïncidence. But what is not coïncidental is the thought, skill, and talent on display. 

While we all know the main warning of the show, Sing’Theatre has the wherewithal to water the plant just a little more. 

Other Reviews

Theatre review: Stellar vocals and comedic timing in Little Shop Of Horrors by Charmaine Lim, The Straits Times Life!

Sing’theatre’s Little Shop of Horrors delivers a gritty charm and stellar performances by Xiao Xing Wan, TimeOut

‘Little Shop of Horrors’ review: Audience will eat up every note of this musical by Sing’Theatre by Beverly Anne Devakishen, SG Magazine

Sing’theatre’s ‘Little Shop of Horrors’ is a Musical Feast by Derrick Lim, The Flying Inkpot

[Interview] Playwright-Composer weish and Director Huzir Sulaiman on Secondary: The Musical

/ Isaac Tan / Leave a comment

To open its 2024 season, Checkpoint Theatre returns to school with a musical composed and written by its associate artist, weish.

Described as an “unconventional musical”, I spoke to Playwright-Composer weish and Director Huzir Sulaiman to find out more about the production.

Synopsis
School isn’t easy for anyone, whether you’re a student or a teacher. And with exams coming, nobody’s life will be the same.

Pushed and pulled in different directions, Lilin is a young teacher trying to make it through yet another term while helping her students. Battle-worn Secondary 3s Ming, Omar, and Reyansh are trying to handle the challenges in school and at home with bravery and grace. But in a system that values specific kinds of success, can their efforts be recognised?

Hilarious and deeply moving, this landmark work by Checkpoint Theatre is an unforgettable dive into life in a Singapore school, with all its delicate joys, complicated heartbreak and unexpected beauty.

With a powerful, affecting script, and incredible new songs, Secondary: The Musical questions what happens when life is dictated by a final grade.

What inspired you to create Secondary: The Musical?

weish: The short answer is: Huzir Sulaiman. He came to me with the idea in late 2020, and since then he and the Checkpoint team have spent three years working with me to develop and refine the piece over several table reads and feedback sessions.

The piece draws heavily from my experience as a literature teacher in public schools. I learnt some difficult lessons about class and inequality, and the unseen struggles of less privileged students in the underbelly of our meritocratic ideals.

As my dramaturg, Huzir has always reminded me to balance light and dark, and in moments where I burrowed myself too far into my own head to see clearly, he encouraged me to put my cerebral and conceptual brain on hold in favour of listening to my instincts and emotions. In doing so I realised there was a lot of joy, hope, and humour in the world I was trying to represent.

In that light, I hope the work isn’t primarily received as an indictment of society, but more a celebration: of real people and their enduring humanity, in all their flaws and idiosyncrasies.

Checkpoint Theatre has worked with weish on several occasions. How did this project come about?

Huzir Sulaiman: weish’s engagement with Checkpoint Theatre has been deepening and growing over the last 12 years, from project to project, while her powers as a writer and musician have been similarly maturing into something quite astonishing, marrying lightness and joy with technical sophistication. I encouraged weish to write a full-length musical quite simply because she is a brilliant artist with a lot of important questions that she wants to investigate in her work, and she has the ability to do that in dialogue, lyrics and music. She combines those skills with both compassion and intellectual rigour—a vital combination when thinking about the education system!

You described the show as an unconventional musical. How would you describe the music in the show?

weish: In response to our trailer someone had joked, “Ah, the weish chord”! That really tickled me. But if it was any indication that there is something signature to my sound in the ears of others, I am glad. The show is a mix of spoken scenes—naturalistic and otherwise—and 15 original songs. I have had the pleasure of working with Ian Lee and Daniel Alex Chia from independent music label PK Records as my arrangers and producers, and they’ve breathed new life into the music in ways that balance my own sensibilities. The music is quite alternative and unconventional to the musical theatre style, but still accessible, and very lyric-driven. Genres range from folk to hip-hop to electronic, but what I hope ties them together is a rawness of emotion and sincerity. And, perhaps, a “weish chord”…

Photo: Daryl Eng / Courtesy of Checkpoint Theatre

What drew you to direct this show?

Huzir Sulaiman: It’s my privilege and responsibility to oversee the development of much of Checkpoint Theatre’s new work. Before formally becoming her director, I worked with weish for three years as the dramaturg for Secondary: The Musical, giving my feedback on her drafts—many fragmentary songs and scenes at first, then eventually 11 full drafts. I would discuss my thoughts and suggested revisions, also collating and curating the feedback that the Checkpoint team and actors would have after every read.

Music has always played a huge part in my life. Telling stories and expressing thoughts and feelings through not just spoken text but also song, the way it’s done in Secondary: The Musical, resonates with me as both an artist and on a deeply personal level. And weish and I have a fairly similar sense of humour, so I think that helps me enter into the world of the characters. I was fortunate that weish agreed for me to direct this work, and I consider it a great gift. weish is also musical director for the show, overseeing the singing and musical arrangements, and it’s great to see her at work.

While music elements have been featured in various Checkpoint Theatre’s productions, this is the first proper musical produced by the company. What were some of the difficulties in working on this original musical?

Huzir Sulaiman: Our first-ever musical was actually City Night Songs in 2012—in fact, that was the very production that kicked off weish’s and Checkpoint Theatre’s long happy years of collaboration. She was one of my assistant directors then. There are certainly new challenges when you work on a large production, in terms of integrating and balancing all the elements of performance—singing, choreography, acting, and all the processes involved in dramaturgy, design, rehearsal, and production.

Were there any interesting discoveries during the rehearsal process?

weish: The sheer amount of talent in the room has been overwhelming. Our cast is stellar, and I have been very moved by how invested they are in the work—from bringing their own ideas to the table, to sharing deeply personal anecdotes that resonate with the play, or sending me midnight voice messages with vocal experiments they are trying out at home. I have been moved to tears countless times through rehearsals—sometimes just witnessing the way in which Huzir teases out nuance and depth in each character, or watching Hafeez’s choreography imbue a song with new layers of meaning.

As for the music, it has been surreal. For more than 10 years I have written and performed my own music, and now I get to sit before a cast of 12, singing my words and melodies with so much conviction and emotion… I feel so lucky, and I’ve been very emotional through it all.

Huzir Sulaiman: Working with my 12 cast members (plus two understudies), I tried to pull out and make clear the themes and questions that the text poses. Improvisations and discussions allowed us to flesh out the backstories of the characters. Building a rich and detailed world was important to me, as well as ensuring the story unfolded with both clarity and nuance. I tend to work first in broad strokes, returning to scenes again and again to get ever more specific and layered.

Choreographer Hafeez Hassan and weish as musical director worked alongside me in the rehearsal room to optimise the movement and singing respectively. They are so good at what they do that it was a joy.

Has this show made you look at your schooling experience in a new light? How so?

weish: Not schooling exactly, but teaching, yes; I was forced to confront my flaws and failings as a teacher with new eyes, which has been difficult, but cathartic. The show has also reframed my feelings looking back on my time in the service—where before I had filed these memories as depressing or scary, I now remember all the things that were delightful, life-affirming. Avuncular maths teachers and their dad jokes; cleaning aunties who were deeply wise and kind; the hilarious and absurd things teenagers say; quiet poems and little letters and earnest journals that made me smile.

Huzir Sulaiman: Kindness is so important. Not only for students but also for teachers, who deserve compassion and understanding from pupils and colleagues equally. I wish I had realised these things when I was a kid. I had no idea what my teachers were going through—I found out years later that some were dealing with domestic violence, with divorce, with chronic illnesses. Adults seem so powerful, but I now know how fragile they are.

Catch It!

Secondary: The Musical runs from 19 to 28 April 2024 at Victoria Theatre.

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

/ Isaac Tan / 3 Comments

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

[Interview] Director Hawk Liu on Creating an Abridged Version of Verdi’s Macbeth

/ Isaac Tan / 1 Comment

Steven Ang as Macbeth and Tatiana Konovalova as Lady Macbeth / Photo: Hawk Liu

Over the years, The Mad Scene has been reviewing operatic, musical theatre, and classical music performances. Spurred by the uncertainties of the COVID-19 pandemic, Steven Ang, founder of The Mad Scene, decided to seize the moment and produce an abridged version of Verdi’s Macbeth, an opera that he has longed to perform in for many years.

To realise his vision, he brought Hawk Liu on board to direct the show. I spoke to Liu to find out more about the show.

What is it about Verdi’s Macbeth that attracted you to direct it?

When Steven Ang approached me to direct the opera, I said yes immediately. It’s a delicious opera to direct with so much potential for drama, and my own temperament suits the intensity of expression that this opera demands. I wanted a visually driven drama piece that uses physical manifestations of the internal emotions of the characters. I told the cast that I wanted to audience to see what they feel and I think that is coming along nicely.

What are some of the difficulties in working on this adaptation?

For me, the difficulty in creating anything is to start from zero. It means I need to workshop quite a bit in order to see something stronger in my mind coming to life. But once I get going and have something to work with, I can build a lot more from there. That has been my experience in this production as well.

As I am a dancer, I wanted the singers to feel where the music is coming from in order to put the flow of the music into their movements. There is quite a bit of working with movements to get the visual effect I wanted, especially so when the music drives the drama so much. It can be a subtle thing but I think it can make a lot of difference in the visual and emotional experience.

There was also the issue of how to bring about a completeness of staging in an abridged opera. I had numerous discussions going back and forth with Steven Ang, the producer, about how we wanted the drama to play out given there will be no crowd scenes, etc.

I feel the main difficulty in a modest production like ours, is working with accompaniment tracks during rehearsals. Trying to start and stop the action is most trying for me without a pianist when the music drives the action so much.

Tatiana Konovalova as Lady Macbeth / Photo: Hawk Liu

Were there any interesting things that happened during rehearsals?

The curious thing about a production like this specific one is whether we see a lot of bad luck happening. Yes, we did. Our Lady Macbeth, Tatiana Konovalova, was stuck in Russia for many months as she could not get a vaccination to get herself back to Singapore. A member of our cast had a heart problem and had to go for an operation. We wondered whether we had to hunt for a replacement, but thankfully, he’s still with us. In the props department, we ordered some swords and we sparred too hard and one of them broke into two pieces!

Our original Witch (yes, just one!) had to leave the production due to her own professional commitments, but we found a replacement – yourself, Isaac, a male actor. I was quite excited about the prospects of turning a witch’s role to a male one and after doing a few hours’ experiment, I think we got it!

If you are only given three words to describe the production, what would it be?

See for yourselves!

Catch It!

Macbeth will be performed on Saturday, 23 April 2022, at Goodman Arts Centre Black Box.

Tickets

[Theatre Review] Borderline by PSYCHEdelight: On the Side of Humanity

/ Isaac Tan / Leave a comment

Refugees huddling together on a boat / Photo: José Farinha

Borderline

PSYCHEdelight

Online

12–23 January 2022

Part of M1 Singapore Fringe Festival 2022

In the opening sequence of Borderline, a few actors take turns to come on stage and remove their shoes. At the same time, live musicians play Bella Ciao to accompany the sequence. Slightly upstage, there are mountains of shoes. 

The sight of the numerous shoes is a stark reminder of the number of people who had to flee their countries. It reminds me of a Holocaust exhibit which has piles of shoes from the vicitims. But from a distance, it looks like piles of rubbish in the Calais jungle, a makeshift refugee settlement in France.

Despite the sombre themes, complemented by the music that uses the revised lyrics by the Italian resistance movement, the jaunty tune and the actors’ playfulness lend a jovial, almost circus-like atmosphere.

The juxtapositions and seeming simplicity encapsulates the spirit of the show which aims to be a comedy about the tragic refugee situation. 

Through a series of vignettes, we witness the various difficulties the refugees had to endure in order to cross the border: the various means to survive; uncaring bureaucracy; and the absurd actions of supposed do-gooders. 

While the cast—comprising a mix of refugees who managed to find asylum in Britain and Europeans—uses their own names, we are not given any biographical information about the refugees. This allows us to look at the different facets of their experiences in general, without being pulled in by one particular story. 

It also emphasises their humanity, warts and all. They are not simply pure, helpless victims. They have ingenuity as well as weaknesses as evident from the scene where the refugees try to exaggerate the provenance of the donated clothes in the hopes of getting a good price for them.

Police trying to haul a refugee out of a refrigerated truck / Photo: José Farinha

Just as the refugees had to make do with little, the cast deftly transports us to various settings through devised movement sequences. From trains to a police dog sniffing out refugees, the synergy among the cast members is a joy to behold. 

As this recording is made specially for video due to the pandemic scuppering any plans for the company to tour, there is an added complexion to the presentation of this performance. 

There is an inspired choice in the cinematography and editing which presents us with certain scenes as though they were filmed with a camcorder. This adds a mockumentary flavour to the show that live audiences might not get, thus giving the satire about the exploitativeness of news reports and documentaries more bite.

While there are no easy solutions as the world sets about beefing up their physical and legislative borders, this show resolutely stands in humanity’s camp.