Vishnucharan Naidu

[Theatre Review] No Man’s Land by The Necessary Stage: Soapbox Contestations

/ Isaac Tan / 1 Comment

Dissecting masculinity / Photo: Tuckys Photography / Courtesy of The Necessary Stage

No Man’s Land
The Necessary Stage
12 June 2025
Esplanade Studio Theatre
12–15 June 2025

In the programme notes, playwright Danial Martin tells us that “No Man’s Land is not an answer; it is a confrontation” about different ideas about masculinity and how that plays out in society. This is wonderfully realised in the opening physical sequence where five performers enter a circle in grey singlets as they confront each other mano a mano to Ng Jing’s primal, guttural soundscape.

Unfortunately, unlike the flexed muscles and tensed sinews in the movement sequence, the dramaturgy and writing could have grappled with the complexities of masculinity a little more. 

Co-directed by Sim Yan Ying and Alvin Tan, with Lim Shien Hein as dramaturg, this interdisciplinary devised piece has several vignettes peppered amidst the physical sequences. 

Flexed muscles and tensed sinews of Shahizman Sulaiman (left), Michael Tan (centre), and Neo Hai Bin (right) /
Photo: Tuckys Photography / Courtesy of The Necessary Stage

Initially, these vignettes seem to comprise actors playing stock characters, highlighting the broad issues of masculinity:  body image, dealing with infidelity,  parental expectations, responsibilities to a woman and child born out of wedlock, sharing intimate photos and videos of women without their consent, kinks, etc.

Imagine my surprise when it later becomes clear that the characters are not one-off, but are related to each other. We do not see them struggling with the implications of their circumstances as things seem to happen to them. Although the characters are not meant to have a naturalistic character arc, the lack of struggle then leaves us with merely examples of men behaving badly. This forgoes the opportunity to invite for us to understand what led them to behave this way.

Men behaving badly / Photo: Tuckys Photography / Courtesy of The Necessary Stage

Another device meant to get the audience to confront ideas about masculinity is the metatheatrical moments when the actors comment on the play in two instances. In the “intermission”, which is specifically stated to be slightly over seven minutes, Shahizman Sulaiman explains—or, as the modern lingo would have it, mansplain—the first half of the show to “align” the audience with the artistic intention, thereby resisting alternative interpretations of the show. Some might feel that this parallels the patriarchal narratives of one’s lived experiences.

The other instance is when Suhaili Safari complains that she is the only woman in the cast who not only offers the token female perspective, but also takes on many roles in which she  either does the physical or emotional labour in service to men. Neo Hai Bin then laments that he wishes that he lived in a society where this is not so. While it is undeniable that this parallels the experiences of women worldwide, it does not go beyond a complaint. 

The lesbian sister (Suhali Safari) and her gay brother (Vishnucharan Naidu) deciding if she should return to Singapore /
Photo: Tuckys Photography / Courtesy of The Necessary Stage

In the same scene, Vishnucharan Naidu also apologises to Suhaili saying that his character (a gay man who plays the role of the dutiful son despite his mother not recognising his sexual orientation) has made used of her character (sister who is lesbian who left for Korea because she wants to live life on her own terms) to rediscover himself.  This presumes that the self is formed and evolved on one’s own, almost in a vacuum, when we often discover parts of ourselves when encountering a particular situation or interacting with others.

Thus, there is a stronger sense of wondering aloud, rather than a clash of ideas, perspectives, and trade-offs in the show. 

The Empress Dominatrix (Suhaili Safari) controls her Eunuch Client (Neo Hai Bin) /
Photo: Tuckys Photography / Courtesy of The Necessary Stage

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

In the movement sequences, Hafeez Hassan blends various traditions (bharatanatyam, martial arts, wrestling, hip hop, contemporary, etc.) to come up with a cohesive vocabulary for his choreography. Even though there are some performers who are not movement trained, they appear as a synergised ensemble and everyone actively participates in the movement sequences.

The text by Danial Martin may be simple, but there are occasions when it hits one right in the gut. In a scene where an unnamed victim of an explicit Telegram channel (Suhali Safari) delivers a monologue, she mentions that while not all men would indulge in something so sordid, but with 44,000 pairs of eyes on her, it feels like it could be so. In one line, Danial slices through the polarities, and elicits sympathy for the trauma that many girls have experienced. 

The way creative captioner Su Paing Tun designs the text to pulse, fade, and appear with accompanying graphics is truly creative and an art on its own. 

Michael Tan (centre) tenderly reflects on his journey as a man in a letter to his younger self /
Photo: Tuckys Photography / Courtesy of The Necessary Stage

Michael Tan has a certain tenderness in the delivery of two monologues about looking back at his life as a man and discovering self-pleasure at 15. He considers that to be quite young, even though the younger generation will consider it to be quite late; a missed opportunity to explore conceptions of masculinity according to different generations. 

Suhaili Safari’s versatility is a treat to behold as she plays characters of varying ages, backgrounds, and a rousing number about men to the tune of “Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend”.

Shahizman Sulaiman (left) and Neo Hai Bin (right), teach Vishnucharan Naidu (middle) how to behave like a man /
Photo: Tuckys Photography / Courtesy of The Necessary Stage

Shahizman Sulaiman and Neo Hai Bin sparkle as fairies teaching Vishnucharan Naidu how to behave as a man. It is refreshing to see Neo in a camp role, but there is also depth to his performance in a silent scene with his father where he cycles the whole gamut of emotions before breaking down. 

Shahizman also displays a wonderful physical deftness in the various physical sequences, while Vishnucharan has a subtlety that opens up to tenderness in the scene when he asks his sister to return to Singapore after their parents have died. 

While the show could have prod us further to consider the complexities of masculinity, it still exposes us to the possibilities of interdisciplinary performance in examining important issues.

Further Reading

Programme booklet for No Man’s Land

Other Reviews

“Theatre review: Theatrical and funny, No Man’s Land questions ideas of manhood” by Clement Yong, The Straits Times Life! (Article is behind a paywall)  | Transcript of review

“【艺评】《无人之境》的意义在第四堵墙裂缝之处” by 孙靖斐, Lianhe Zaobao

“Review: Suria on No Man’s Land by Sim Yan Ying “YY”, Alvin Tan & Danial Matin (The Necessary Stage)” by Suria, Critic’s Circle Blog

“Review: Cheng Nien Yuan on No Man’s Land by Sim Yan Ying “YY”, Alvin Tan & Danial Matin (The Necessary Stage)” by Cheng Nien Yuan, Critic’s Circle Blog

“No Man’s Land: Siapa ajar lelaki jadi begini?” by Pengkritik Sandiwara

“No Man’s Land” by Naeem Kapadia, Crystalwords

“Review: Review: No Man’s Land (The Necessary Stage)” by Aileen Tang, The Flying Inkpot

“[Theatre Review] The Necessary Stage’s “No Man’s Land” Takes on Modern Masculinity, Perfect Watch for Lonely Male Dudes This Father’s Day Weekend” by Alvin Lim, Alvinology

[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