[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

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

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.

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

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.

[Theatre Review] Two Songs and a Story – Taking Stock of Locks and Barriers

Courtesy of Checkpoint Theatre

Two Songs and a Story
Checkpoint Theatre
Online, Sistic Live
6–31 August 2020

Apart from being a health crisis, the COVID-19 pandemic has turned out to be a life audit. We are forced to reëvaluate all aspects of our lives and confront uncomfortable truths that we would rather conveniently forget.

For Checkpoint Theatre, they cancelled their first production of the 2020 season and turned The Heart Comes to Mind and A Grand Design into audio presentations. Two Songs and a Story marks the company’s first major production conceived to be presented online in adherence to the government’s guidelines.

As the title suggests, we get five writer-performers taking stock of certain aspects of their lives with a monologue largely bookended with two songs.

While the format may sound like an open mic gig on film, directors Huzir Sulaiman and Joel Lim worked closely with the performers and the cinematography to ensure diverse and surprising modes of presentations.

ants chua performing “at least i have words now” / Photo: Courtesy of Checkpoint Theatre

In “at least i have words now”, ants chua explores the dynamics of friendships vis-à-vis romantic relationships and how the former is much more ambiguous with lack of rituals and clear markers of beginnings and endings.

It is a wise choice to anchor the monologue with a childhood story about making friends on the school bus as a reflection—and almost an allegory—of the friendships made and lost later in life. The situation is simple enough to understand, but there is a sense that one carries a certain naïveté into later life, which results in hurting others. This is in stark contrast to chua’s insightful analysis of the difference between romance and friendships—a realisation for which chua has the words to articulate now.

chua’s restrained performance allows the text to breathe and sink in as we inevitably reflect on our own friendships.

Inch Chua performing “Super Q” / Photo: Courtesy of Checkpoint Theatre

It is easy to think of Inch Chua as a singer, but if her consistent forays into theatre over the past few years is not enough to rid you of the idea that she is merely “dipping her toes” in the theatre industry, then “Super Q” should do the trick.

Chua plunges into the heart of the COVID-19 crisis by relaying her experiences as a volunteer in sanitising operations. The disjuncture between the comforts of her home and the seemingly draconian measures at the workers’ dormitories is disconcerting to say the least.

Chua’s experimentation with rhythm and poetry in her text enhances the emotions of frustration and confusion it evokes. This is complemented by the cuts and lighting design in the way the video was edited.

If the first piece is contemplative, Chua is on the other end as she bores into your heart with original songs written for the show. She cries: “All this must mean something more / when you have the privilege to be bored.”

Jo Tan performing “A Bit” / Photo: Courtesy of Checkpoint Theatre

Ever since the success of Forked (2019), Jo Tan has been prolific in writing and performing monologues that feature quirky characters, but their experiences or desires reveal something insightful about the circumstances that we live in.

In “A Bit”, Tan plays Bit Wah. An unassuming office lady who gets through life merely doing what is expected of her. While her lack of ambition makes her existence seems mechanical, she finds solace in her favourite anime.

Tan’s comic timing makes this short piece a joy to watch, and the ending is oddly entertaining.

To a culture that glorifies productivity, watching anime may seem frivolous. But if all that hustling is akin to the conformity of the grey skyscrapers of Tokyo, perhaps Bit Wah has a point in wanting life to be a little bit more colourful.

Rebekah Sangeetha Dorai performing “And Then I Am Light” / Photo: Courtesy of Checkpoint Theatre

Rebekah Sangeetha Dorai’s “And Then I Am Light” is a refreshing change as the diagonal angle of the shot and the breezy delivery of her monologue feels like a casual interview as compared to the performative nature of the other pieces.

On the whole, it is heartfelt and life-affirming as she comes to terms with being able to accept herself and move on from her trauma of her childhood and past relationships.

However, with the breezy delivery and tight pacing of the editing, one does not feel the full gravity of her words. This results in the piece losing some of its bite as it sometimes feels like a behind-the-scenes interview for a sleek music video.

This is a pity as the potential of the monochromatic shot of her monologue transiting into full-blown colour when she sings in a beautiful blue costume with embroidery is lost. However, the option of turning on the captions and reading the text does compensate a little.

That said, this does not completely detract from the heart of the piece and Rebekah’s luscious vocals is always a treat.

weish performing “Be Here, With Me” / Photo: Courtesy of Checkpoint Theatre

Fresh from her collaboration with Checkpoint Theatre on Displaced Persons’ Welcome Dinner (2019), weish takes centre stage in “Be Here, With Me”. An evocative performance about her struggles with trying to get over a traumatic experience.

In her music practice, weish uses live loops of singing, vocal percussion, and instrumentation. While we see that here, it not merely a transposition of her forte into this piece. Instead, the live loops that are present in her songs and monologue become a soundscape of her mind.

This allows us to see how she tries to appear normal so not as to burden others, while desperately wanting affirmations from others, even though she knows that it does not assuage her insecurities, self-doubt, and blame.

Having the camera suddenly charge up to her face-on after her opening song is uncomfortably confrontational, but it creates a sense that she is speaking directly to us as a particular person rather than an audience in general.

This is an inspired move as we then get to see her slowly crumble as she tries to explain herself and her experience—a rather different side of her as compared to the one who is in absolute control of the sonic textures, rhythms, and tempo when she is singing.

Despite its seemingly simple premise, Two Songs and a Story proves that Checkpoint Theatre is equally adept at bringing their brand of producing local works for the digital medium.

Other Reviews

“Theatre review: Checkpoint Theatre’s Two Songs And A Story presents intimate, heartbreaking monologues” by Olivia Ho, The Straits Times Life!  
♦ Article is behind a paywall. 

Resources

Two Songs and a Story: Artist Dialogue

[Listing] BODY X : The Culprit

After two successful runs in 2014 (BODY X The Wedding) and 2016 (BODY X The Rehearsal), BODY X returns with a brand new murder-mystery online: BODY X The Culprit.

This happened 35 years ago during the economic crisis of the mid-1980s.

Lacking substantial evidence, the case was left unsolved.

 

While tackling the challenges of an unprecedented recession and rapid business decline,

a neighbourhood kopitiam had to face another murderous impact —

a Regular Patron was found dead outside the shop in the early morning,

lying face-down at his usual spot.

 

All who were in contact with him the previous night

—Big Boss, Kopi Auntie, Cleaner, Beer Girl, Stall-owner—

had valid alibi and were not at the scene of the crime.

However, they all had disagreements with the victim before.

 

Was it an accident? Or is the murderer one of them?

Body X is a pioneering immersive-interactive Mandarin murder-mystery in Singapore theatre. An original and innovative theatrical format conceived and created by seasoned theatre practitioners, Li Xie and Danny Yeo. Both directors emphasised that the 2020 online version should retain important features—the involvement of and the autonomy in choice-making for the audience, the exploration of performance space, as well as the experimentation of unknown theatrical practices.  

So, are you behind-the-scene or in-the-scene? You decide. 

Come traverse through time and space to help solve this murder-mystery with us… this time, virtually. 


Body X The Culprit runs from 9–13 September 2020 via Zoom. Performed in Mandarin with no subtitles. Tickets from $18 at Peatix

Teater Ekamatra presents Baca Skrip: #_____

In an unexpected turn of events, rather than worrying about creating new works through a digital medium, Teater Ekamatra decides to team up with veteran theatre producer Fezhah Maznan to look back at key works in Malay theatre through a series called Baca Skrip: #______.

Baca Skrip is a monthly online script read of Malay plays by prolific Malay playwrights from Singapore. The scripts are selected based on their impact on Singapore Malay theatre history and / or are representative of the chosen playwright’s oeuvre.

Each session will be accompanied with an introduction which provides a sense of the historical, social, political, and cultural context of the work. After the reading, a critical response will be given by an invited guest. This is meant to provide audience several ways of looking at the work.

This series serves to rekindle the work with today’s Malay theatre audience and create a sense of continued history for Singapore Malay theatre in general.

First Session (29 May, 8 p.m.)

Baca Skrip: #HantaranBuatMangsaLupa

Genap 40 (read by Shida Mahadi and Izzul Irfan)

Hawa, who is pregnant, receives a premonition that she will meet Malaikat (angel) on the 39th day, where she hopes to enquire about the fate of her child and her self; revealing her true desire to challenge predestination.  

W.C. (read by Mish’aal Syed Nasar and KayKay Nizam) 

Two mean in a toilet cubicle. 

They talk, but not a lot. 

They touch but not too much. 

Only the four walls bear witness to their dispositions. 

W.C. was created to examine the complexities between men—abandonment, trust, and maybe even love. It speaks of comfort and sacrifice, or lack thereof. 

94:05 (read by Fir Rahman) 

94:05 invites the audience to the life and memories of Ahmad bin Abdullah. As he tidies his studio apartment, Ahmad finds it hard not to reminisce. He shares with us every important juncture he has passed through, slowly revealing his struggles with fate. Every now and then he contemplates mortality, especially in moments when hope becomes fleeting. 


Performed in Malay with accompanying Malay text and English surtitles.

Tickets at $10 from Peatix.

[Interview] Director Phillip Zarrilli and Playwright Kaite O’Reilly on Lie With Me

Come November, the graduating cohort of the Intercultural Theatre Institute (ITI) will be presenting the Asian premier of Kaite O’Reilly’s Lie with Me.

Originally set in London, this production will be localised to look at contemporary life in Singapore through glimpses into the lives of eight young people, exploring issues such as the evolving ‘rules’ of sexual encounters in a ‘swipe right’ culture, and the ways in which people survive and form genuine relationships in an increasingly unstable and consumerist society.

To find out more about the show and the creative process, I spoke to O’Reilly (KOR) and director Phillip Zarrilli (PZ).

What are some of the difficulties in adapting Lie With Me to a Singaporean context?

KOR: I believe that creativity comes from problem-solving, so any ‘difficulty’ is actually welcome. Adapting an existing script for the Singapore context was illuminating and hugely enjoyable, as I had the whole cast involved, researching topics for me, assisting with any slang, ensuring the language felt ‘right’ in the mouth. The adaptation might have been challenging were I not in Singapore and so able to check material with the company and seek local knowledge and advice whenever I needed it.

The process of creating this piece is complex in that the you are working with an international cast while adapting a play that was initially set in London to speak about contemporary life in Singapore. Are there any interesting discoveries or conversations that emerged out of the rehearsal process?

KOR: There are obviously some historical, cultural, and social differences between London and Singapore. We discussed everything from gay marriage to employment practices, adjusting one of the character’s storyline so it echoed the relationship with migrant workers in this geographical context. But people are people—there are more similarities than differences. I think the conversations confirmed for me how challenging contemporary life is for young people from every part of the world—from the complex evolving dynamics of work, family and relationships in the digital age, to the notion of truth, responsibility and integrity in this world full of ‘fake news’ and ‘alternative facts’.

Phillip, you are known for using martial arts and yoga to train your actors. How do these art forms feature in the process of creating this show?

PZ: Two years ago, I spent two weeks at ITI with this group of actors and shared with them the process I have developed in training actors using Asian martial arts and yoga. Six weeks ago, when I arrived back in Singapore, we began our rehearsal process by reviewing this training, and we use the training as a 45-minute warm up before we begin every rehearsal.  Throughout our process of rehearsing Lie with Me, I have drawn on the key underlying principles of the training I teach—coaching the actors with regard to attention and awareness.

As the actors are trained in a myriad of art forms across various cultures, are you tapping into their training to create this show? If so, how?

PZ:  In their third year, this group of ITI actors  have amassed three years of studio encounters with a wide variety of traditional Asian performances genres as well as with contemporary acting/movement/voice training. These shared training experiences have provided a firm foundation for our work on Lie with Me because they share the same basic underlying principles that inform the training that I have developed. To take one example, Japanese noh performance gradually opens up the performer’s awareness of her feet with its emphasis on the basic ‘noh walk’. This ‘foot awareness’ can be very useful to the actor to  stay centred and grounded in performance.

If you can only offer one reason for audience to watch Lie With Me, what would it be?

KOR: I think it is always exhilarating to see work by those emerging from their training, like butterflies from their cocoons, spreading their wings, about to take flight into the world. I’m always interested in seeing the future makers of performance and culture as they cross the threshold into professional work.

PZ: Come and engage with a group of emerging actors/performers who care deeply about what they are doing as artists.


Lie with Me runs from 7–9 November 2019 at Esplanade Theatre Studio. Tickets from Peatix.

Taking It To The Next Level

My career as a theatre critic started in university when I chanced upon Kent Ridge Common, an online student-run publication, which offered ample opportunities to review shows.

Two years later, I signed up for a module on theatre criticism offered by the theatre studies department at the National University of Singapore (NUS). Being equipped with certain theoretical frameworks, challenged to write reviews for different media, and having to read them aloud to approximately thirty people really forced me to consider my voice as a critic, who my reader was, and what my functions are.

The course led me to convert this website to solely focus on the arts and to sign up as a citizen reviewer for Centre 42 from 2014 till today.

In the past five years, I have gained more confidence and am increasingly aware of my artistic tastes and the sort of critic that I want to be. Having practised this craft for half a decade, it is time to take it further—it is time to be a professional independent theatre critic.

What Does This Mean?

The fundamental change would be to strive to turn this craft into a source of revenue amongst other artistic pursuits. Your support will enable me to broaden my coverage to include more long-form interviews and profiles, dance reviews, and even book reviews.

My reviews will always be public and free for all to read. Your support will determine the breadth and depth of my coverage, and supporters will receive bonus content.

Editorially, I will be stricter on developing a house style. I will take my cue from Mr Hart by referring to New Hart’s Rules. I will depart from a few of his recommendations purely out of personal preference.

In terms of work flow, I will try to publish my review within a week of watching the show. I have no intention of being the first, for there are many others who are adept at that. Rather, I shall follow the footsteps of Mr Kenneth Tynan and “write for posterity” as much as it is meant for the present.

Why Does It Matter?

Arts criticism is part of the arts ecology. Artists aim to inspire, provoke, comfort, or entertain their audience. Criticism is thus an articulated response to the work. It is the opening salvo; the first hand in the air.

With arts funding in Singapore still largely reliant on state funding, the perennial question is, What do the people want or need? Artists and authorities have been justifying their aims in response to this question without answering a more fundamental one: Who constitutes “the people?”

Hence, my reviews seek to be a platform from which theatre-goers can respond to and articulate their opinions. After all, in an incredibly realistic country such as Singapore, for someone to invest time and money into something counts a lot.

I also seek to document these debates as one indicator of what the people want.

How Can I Support You?

Regardless of who you are, there are several ways that you can support me. All the details can be found on this page.

Apart from doing this as a regular gig, the ultimate goal is to be able to commission other writers on a regular basis and pay them at market rates. While much have been said about the need for arts criticism, proper opportunities are very few and far between.

But beyond financial or in-kind support, an equally important contribution is to really respond to my reviews. Tell me your opinions about the show. Even if it is a response to a particular point I made, it is very helpful for all involved.

I look forward to having you on this new journey with me.

[Listing] Fun Home by Pangdemonium!

To round off their 2017 Season, Pangdemonium is performing FUN HOME, the stunning musical about a family that’s nothing like yours and exactly like yours.

Based on Alison Bechdel’s best-selling graphic memoir, the piece interacts with Bechdel at three different ages. Moving between past and present, it reveals her unique childhood, a growing understanding of her own sexuality and how she handles her uniquely dysfunctional family. FUN HOME is a gripping portrayal of a daughter’s determination to connect with her volatile, brilliant father whose temperament and secrets have defined her family and her life.

“FUN HOME is an exhilarating, heart wrenching, and moving musical which will resonate with anyone who has ever felt different, even within their own family. The story—based on real life experiences of Alison Bechdel—is a roller-coaster of comedy and tragedy, and the songs are sublimely beautiful. Be prepared for a truly unique and unforgettable musical theatre experience.” said Adrian and Tracie Pang, Artistic Directors of Pangdemonium.

Winner of five Tony Awards, including Best Score and Best Book, the haunting melodies of Jeanine Tesori and poetic lyrics of Lisa Kron set a foundation for this refreshingly honest musical.

Starring Adrian Pang, Monique Wilson, Nikki Muller, Elena Wang, Benjamin Kheng, Gail Belmonte, Chloe Choo, Elly Gaskell, Aria Zhang, Damien Weber, and Bjorn Haakenson.

Named Best Musical of the Year by the New York Times, FUN HOME is a daring and innovative work about seeing your parents through grown up eyes. The Singaporean debut of this intimate and emotional theatrical experience is not to be missed!

FUN HOME runs from 29 September–15 October at the Drama Centre Theatre, Rated R18, Tickets from Sistic

[Theatre Review] The LKY Musical — A Decent and Modest Epic

Photo: Metropolitan Productions

The LKY Musical
Metropolitan Productions
30 July 2015
Sands Theatre, Marina Bay Sands
21 July – 16 August 2015

To call The LKY Musical a biopic about Singapore’s first Prime Minister, Lee Kuan Yew, is a misnomer. It is a portmanteau consisting of biography and motion picture. However, if we were to exercise some poetic license and see it as a biographical epic, it is somewhat apt.

I say somewhat because it spans an epic sweep of historical events but its staging does not match up to it. For starters, the Sands Theatre is badly designed. With its small stage, grey interiors, and bad acoustics, it feels like someone decided to convert a warehouse into a “theatre” on a whim. It is clearly designed for cheap entertainment and artistry is a mere afterthought—like belching after drinking too much beer from a plastic cup.

To deal with space constraints, set designer takis makes use of every inch with a three-level structure that has six rooms. Toss in sliding screens with projections and the audience is whizzed from a shelter where rickshaw pullers reside to Lee’s residence in Cambridge.

Yet, ingenuity can only go so far.

The actors are visibly hemmed in by whatever remains of downstage and the size of each room. To make matters worse, the major events from Lee at Raffles leading up to his time in Cambridge zipped past at breakneck speed. The ensemble could hardly settle into their roles and it is merely a notch above someone walking across the stage with a flashcard saying “Japanese Occupation” and sounds of bombs going off in the background.

Despite these flaws, this musical scores enough brownie points to warrant more than two hours of your time if you have some to spare.

Adrian Pang’s versatility truly knows no bounds. While he does not adopt every single behavioural tick of Lee Kuan Yew, he exudes Lee’s unmistakable presence when delivering a political speech. With his body tilted at an angle and chest puffed up, he marshals voters to the polling station as he goes head on against his former comrade turned opponent, Lim Chin Siong.

Benjamin Chow’s Lim Chin Siong certainly matches up to Pang’s Lee. Rather than play the radical hothead as described in history textbooks, Chow’s Lim possesses political cunning and daring which makes him a formidable opponent of Lee Kuan Yew. Chow must also be commended for his ability to maintain his Chinese accented English when singing without compromising on his diction.

Radhi Khalid’s Tunku Abdul Rahman, Malaya’s Prime Minister, is a nice counterpoint to Lee Kuan Yew. Khalid’s gentle cadences as he glides effortlessly through his lines is contrasted with Pang’s pointed attack—an indication of Lee’s no-nonsense approach to politics. While Tunku’s insistence on playing poker rather than discussing politics may be superficially read as insouciance, it is a gentle insistence on the incompatibility of Lee’s egalitarian ideals and Tunku’s racial politics. To discuss it further would unnecessarily sour the already tenuous relationship.

Other notable performers are Sebestian Tan as Teong Koo the optimistic rickshaw puller and Vester Ng as Ng Kai, the naïve and eager union leader of the rickshaw pullers. While Edward Choy (Goh Keng Swee), Dayal Gian Singh (Rajaratnam), and Tan Shou Chen (Toh Chin Chye) gave credible performances in their supporting roles, it is a waste that their characters are not developed further which is an injustice to the legacies of these giants in Singapore history.

Sharon Au as Lee’s wife, Kwa Geok Choo, is clearly doing her best. Unfortunately, her best is not enough as her studied approach and weak singing makes it look as if the decision to cast her is to boost ticket sales by luring her fans to the theatre.

While Dick Lee’s music heightens the atmosphere at important points, the styles are too varied for one to discern a particular motif that defines the musical. Stephen Clark offers witty lyrics such as Lee describing one of the reason he loves his wife is that she is supportive and often makes her ideas seemed like his. However, due to the dismal acoustics of the venue or incompatible levels on the sound console, one will miss it unless an effort is taken to listen intently.

With Lee Kuan Yew’s recent demise and the excitement of the upcoming election, the musical is inextricably tangled over concerns of its historical accuracy and intent. My colleagues seem to adopt either an apologist stance or deem that the musical as an unsuitable genre.

The LKY Musical depicts events as it happened generally and is careful not to over-valourise the man—it neither beats the drum of the official narrative nor poses a distinct challenge to it. Additionally, it has no pretentions of showing “The Singapore Story” which is made abundantly clear through its uninspiring title. As an art work, it generally entertains and I have detailed where it is lacking.

The performing arts cannot replace the work of the historians which is where you should go for nuances and interpretations of events. At the very least, one hopes that it sparks an interest in those whose only acquaintance with the narrative is through the stilted words of a heavily regulated history textbook.

Other Reviews

“Theatre review: Adrian Pang turns in a stirring performance in The LKY Musical by Corrie Tan, The Straits Times Life! 

“Theatre review: The LKY Musical by Naeem Kapadia, Today

“Review: The LKY Musical by Gwen Pew, Time Out Singapore

“A Missed Opportunity” by Andre Theng, Centre 42 Citizens’ Reviews

“Defying detractors, LKY Musical gets standing ovation” by Lisa Twang, The New Paper

“Does the LKY Musical live up to the Man?” by Crystal Nanavati, Sassy Mama

“{Review} The LKY Musical – A Night to Stand Proud and be Inspired” by Audrey, Says! Happy Mums

The LKY Musical by Mummybean, Life is in the Small Things

“Theatre Review (Singapore): ‘The LKY Musical’” by Sharmila Melissa Yogalingam, BlogCritics

The LKY Musical – Review” by Campus Magazine

“Sylvia Toh Reviews The LKY Musical by Sylvia Toh, superadrianme

The LKY Musical — A Musical We’re Proud to Call Our Own” by David Sim, Life’s Tiny Miracles

The LKY Musical: The history of Chinese men’s Singapore” by Kirsten Han, The Online Citizen

The LKY Musical: A Bold Account of Singapore’s Founding Father” by Reuel Eugene, Reuel Writes