Othello

by Willliam Shakespeare
Singapore Repertory Theatre
Fort Canning Park, Singapore

A good play can be summed up in a sentence. In Shakespeare’s Othello, it boils down to a single word: jealousy. It's a bitter, burning “green-ey’d monster” of an emotion that tears the characters apart, leading to tragic consequences for all.  Bruce Guthrie’s modern take on the tale of Moorish general Othello (Daniel Francis), his new bride Desdemona (Wendy Kweh) and his villainous ensign Iago (Daniel Jenkins) is bold, sensuous and thrilling and this may well be the best instalment of SRT’s annual Shakespeare in the Park series yet.

British import Daniel Francis invests Othello with a playful menace, his deep voice hinting even at the start that this is a man who could be capable of violence if pushed far enough. Francis handles the weight and musicality of the verse with finesse; his speech before the Duke of Venice is beautifully rich and cadenced. Where he falters is making the leap from loving husband to bitter, envious man capable of the worst. It’s not an easy transition to make and even though the pivotal handkerchief scene where Iago sows the seeds of jealousy in his mind is handled competently, Francis's change in emotion does not feel plausible. When he suddenly goes into a fit and hits Desdemona, it feels almost pantomime. One cannot help wondering: surely a man as composed and level-headed as this would have more self-control?

Daniel Jenkins has put in impressive performances in previous Shakespeare in the Park productions of Macbeth and Twelfth Night and here, he makes a compelling Iago, that most practiced of Shakespeare’s villains. His scenes with Francis are a pleasure to watch and the two men square off against each other very well. The large open-air setting however doesn't give the play its much needed sense of intimacy. We rarely feel locked into Iago’s confidence and even though what he does is dastardly to say the least, one does not feel the inchoate, smouldering resentment this man harbours, that “motive-hunting of motiveless malignity” Coleridge so famously speaks of.

One of the chief problems I’ve noticed in previous editions of Shakespeare in the Park has been the uneven quality of the acting and I’m pleased to note that this year’s cast do a largely decent job. There is strong work by Stephen Whiley as Cassio and Gerald Chew as Brabantio. Even more impressive is Singapore theatre newcomer Zura Johnson whose Emilia who grows in strength and conviction as the play progresses; her outburst at the end when Iago’s duplicity is laid bare is superbly handled. The one loose cannon in the cast is Shane Mardjuki whose jittery, effeminate take on Roderigo is plain annoying and seems too desperate to elicit laughs when none are required.

Wendy Kweh, last seen as Lady Capulet in W!ld Rice’s Romeo and Juliet, is interesting as Desdemona. Contrary to the usual portrayal of the character as a guileless, demure girl, Kweh’s Desdemona is a woman of some chutzpah. This playful, feisty approach generally works: Desdemona, after all, is a girl who openly defies her father by marrying an older man of a different skin colour and plunges herself into the uncertainty of war. Yet, Kweh never quite strikes an emotional chord with the audience. We don't feel pity at her anguish at being thought unfaithful or horror at the senselessness of her death. Being playful and spunky is one thing, allowing the emotions to land is another. Desdemona's costumes also do not help. She enters in a garish red party frock that is utterly incongruous with everyone else on stage, spends the bulk of the play in a white tank top and shorts and then ends with a blue evening gown with feathers. The odd mix of girly evening wear and tomboyish lounge clothes feels very poorly thought out and does not help with the credibility of the character.

Set designer Robin Don has gone for a modern military look that is all satellite dishes, camouflage-print containers and ladders snaking up and around. It’s a trendy design that emphasizes the imminence of war and violence even in a modern age. Guthrie has the ability to tell a story in all three dimensions; scenes are cleverly incorporated on raised platforms and there is a constant, buzzing sense of activity on stage. Much like Sam Mendes’s Richard III (where Guthrie served as Assistant Director) there is a strong cinematic quality to the production that allows the scenes to whiz by without losing momentum and retain their dramatic thrust. Kudos also to the impressive use of multimedia: the arrival of Othello in Cyprus on a digitized helicopter and news broadcasts of the Turkish fleet being destroyed were particularly well done.

Indeed, Othello has plenty to recommend itself and for newcomers to Shakespeare, soaking in the bright lights and fancy visuals under the stars make for an ideal introduction to the Bard. What I would caution the SRT against however is emphasising spectacle over substance. It’s fine to throw in a couple of bells and whistles but a production which holds itself out as the Shakespeare event of the year should ultimately focus on the primacy of the text. As the man himself said, “The play’s the thing”.

The Crystalwords score: 3.5/5

The Singapore theatre scene

Many years ago, before I started this blog, I wrote a letter to The Straits Times about the state of theatre in Singapore. It was probably triggered by an article in Life! on the arts scene that spurred me to write in for the first time. The letter was unfortunately never published due to space constraints but since I just happened to stumble across the file, I thought I'd share it now. Glad to say that much of it still applies today.

Theatre, that wonderful medium that allows us to connect with each other in a far more realistic and tangible way than a book or movie, has always held a fascination for me. Being an avid fan of the theatre, I have been an enthusiastic participant of drama workshops and school-based theatre productions since young. 

My opinion of the Singapore theatre scene, however, has been fairly limited till recently. I remember relishing musicals such as Miss Saigon, Phantom of the Opera and Singin’ in the Rain when they came to Singapore, blissfully ignorant of the many burgeoning local theatre groups that have been steadily evolving over the years and which have served to both enlighten and entertain audiences with the diversity that is our local theatre. 

It was only in my junior college years that I began discovering the rich plays of Stella Kon, Michael Chiang, Haresh Sharma and other local playwrights. Even back then, my contemporaries were far more likely to peruse the works of Beckett, Pinter or Stoppard instead of our local writers, a fact that surprised and disappointed me. I remember thinking - Why does local theatre not have such a major following in Singapore? Is our society so culturally brainwashed by Western media that it fails to appreciate the Eastern voice? 

While I cannot deny the appeal of world-class Broadway and West End shows, it is vital for every society to celebrate its local theatre. What other way would it possibly have to learn the lessons of the old, to see its rich culture, politics and economics depicted through a variety of tales, both comic and tragic? 

Singapore theatre today has come to reflect a combination of the old and new; a revival of many successful Western plays (some with interesting local touches a la Wild Rice) and original plays that celebrate and chastise all things Singaporean: from racial identity (Haresh Sharma’s Rosnah) to political commitment (Robert Yeo’s A Singapore Trilogy) and even national service (Michael Chiang’s Army Daze). Local theatre spans the gamut, offering something for everyone and yet it is sometimes unceremoniously tossed aside as "entertainment for the elite", a common perception of many Singaporeans. 

What haven’t local theatre companies done to market their plays to the public? The Necessary Stage eschews swanky city venues and prefers to stage its plays in Marine Parade to reach out to the denizens of the suburbs, Wild Rice brilliantly Singaporeanizes universal productions such as Animal Farm to attract the crowds,  Singapore Repertory Theatre has a unique subdivision - The Little Company - that specializes in plays for the young and Toy Factory has come to reach out to the gay community by presenting plays that explore the homosexual psyche (Beautiful Thing, Bent and Porcelain for instance). Theatre indeed reaches out to us all but are we ready to embrace it?

It seems that many Singaporeans are still intrinsically bigoted when it comes to theatre. They would much rather spend their money on huge musicals like Mamma Mia instead of a local one such as Dim Sum Dollies, believing the former to be more "value for money" simply by virtue of it being more tried and tested in an overseas market. The few who actually support and regularly patronize local theatre performances can easily judge for themselves just how much it has to offer. The fact that expatriate friends of mine rave about local productions only goes to show our theatre is every bit as comparable as those on distant shores.

Of course, there is still much room for improvement in the local theatre scene. Since regional talents have been seen to raise the ratings by their foray into local TV, why don’t theatre companies follow suit and attract such talents to the stage? Furthermore, more active recruitment campaigns should be instituted to unearth the thespians amongst us: Fly Entertainment’s acting school helmed by Irene Ang is a good example. There’s nothing like watching our compatriots like Kumar, Hossan Leong and Selena Tan take the stage and showcasing their unique humour and style. 

Ticket prices have always been cited as a major factor that discourages people from attending theatre events. Yes, watching a play, more often than not, costs at least three times the price of a movie or a game of bowling. Theatre groups on the other hand, maintain that the lack of funding and rising rental prices inevitably results in them raising the price of tickets. Attracting crowds, particularly the younger ones with a more elastic demand for leisure, is therefore a prime concern. Loyalty cards, a wider range of concessions, half-price ticket booths (like those in London) are all options that could be explored by the authorities.  

Indeed, the theatre scene in Singapore has flourished in recent years. Being a regular patron of local theatre events, it always gives me great pleasure to read about the Life! Theatre Awards and I would like to take this opportunity to thank everyone in the community for their role in expanding our uniquely Singaporean voice. 

Rabbit Hole

by David Lindsay-Abaire
Pangdemonium!
Drama Centre Theatre, Singapore

What is the architecture of grief? In Rabbit Hole, winner of the 2007 Pulitzer Prize for Drama, playwright David Lindsay-Abaire casts his eye over its gossamer fine blueprint, constructing an edifice that is full of honesty, empathy and raw humanity.

Pangdemonium!’s latest production is quite a departure from their existing repertoire of bold, brassy shows: it’s a bittersweet drama that places family at its very heart. Becca (Janice Koh) and Howie (Adrian Pang) are a couple trying to move on with their lives after a tragic accident snatched away their four-year-old son.

Koh and Pang give real, relatable performances as the bereaved couple, never overtly playing for emotion but yet conveying their feelings though the slightest of gestures. Koh, in particular, is wonderfully understated as Becca. A line like “This feeling. Does it ever go away?” delivered after her mother recounts an amusing family anecdote gives a quiet emotional jolt.  It reminds us that there’s no word in the English language to describe a parent who has lost a child, perhaps because it’s a depth of loss that simply defies description.

There is outstanding support from Seong Hui Xuan as Becca’s ditzy younger sister and Lok Meng Chue as her concerned but garrulous mother. These characters give the play great moments of comedy that go a long way in cutting through the tension. Yet, the beauty of Lindsay-Abaire’s writing is that these feel completely organic: a frivolous exchange about overfeeding the dog morphs into a recrimination against support groups and Becca’s contempt for “God freaks”.

Rabbit Hole is not a depressing, maudlin tearjerker. It certainly tugs at the heartstrings but this is a story that ultimately champions the survival and renewal of the human spirit. “Avoid sentimentality and histrionics,” cautions the playwright in the production notes. It’s a delicate emotional balance, one which director Tracie Pang handles perfectly in her well-judged, keenly-observed production.

Special praise for Philip Englehart’s handsome, pastel-hued and thoughtfully decorated set which is set at an angle such that we feel we are sharing in the intimate domestic space with the characters. The children’s room, filled with colourful toys and other items, is cleverly incorporated into the split-level design.

One wonders why some attempt had not been made to localise the script: a naturalistic drama such as this could very easily have been set in Singapore instead of upstate New York, with the actors (sometimes uncomfortably) battling American accents. But this remains a minor cavil in a play that reminds us that every cloud has a silver lining. It may not always be warm and fluffy in the rabbit hole, but one does eventually get out.

The Crystalwords score: 4/5

*An edited version of this review was written for TODAY and published on 30 April 2013. See original post here.

The Importance of Being Earnest

by Oscar Wilde
W!ld Rice
Drama Centre Theatre, Singapore

Who doesn’t love Earnest? W!ld Rice first staged their all-male take on Oscar Wilde’s comedy of manners in 2009, a production which went on to garner three wins at the Life! Theatre Awards including Production of the Year. Having caught various productions of Earnest on stage, including a decent but somewhat unsatisfying West End version in 2008 featuring Penelope Keith, I can safely declare that Glen Goei's is the best I’ve seen to date.

Earnest is the tale of two men who invent alter egos to court the women they love, a sparkling satire on Victorian values cloaked in the language of wit ("The truth is rarely pure and never simple"; "Ignorance is like a delicate exotic fruit; touch it and the bloom is gone"; "In married life three is company and two none"). W!ld Rice does its best to immerse us in that genteel era of high culture and high society. Before the performance begins, we are treated to a musical prologue where the cast (in white shirts and jeans) mill around on stage, some handing out cucumber sandwiches to the audience, while four musicians from The Ensemble Dimension Players perform a lovely selection of classical music. The musical interludes continue between the Acts, keeping the atmosphere elegant and jaunty.

The set (designed by Ivan Heng) is rendered in simple black and white and features three-sided rotating columns that form the backdrop to each of the three scenes over a harlequin-print floor. There’s not much in the way of actual furniture and props but this is more than compensated by Frederick Lee’s exquisite costumes, a medley of sharply tailored suits in shades of black and white.

Acting-wise, performances are generally excellent with crisp delivery and a keen attention to the rhythm and nuances of Wilde’s lines. I was pleased to discover a naughty double entendre in lines like "I intend to develop in many directions" and "We might go as far as the schools and back". There is outstanding work by Chua Enlai as Gwendolyn who executes his lines with perfection, his altercation with Gavin Yap's Cecily in Act II being particularly noteworthy. Ivan Heng, ever the scene-stealer, is a delight to watch as the formidable Lady Bracknell and effortlessly commands the stage with his pursed lips and arched eyebrows.

Lim Kay Siu, the only member of the cast not from the original 2009 run, acquits himself decently in the role of bumbling clergyman Dr Chasuble. I didn't however sense the chemistry between him and Hossan Leong's Miss Prism: their scenes are terribly funny but not quite romantic. And this leads me to the central thrust of Goei’s production: does the all-male casting throw a different light on the play? I certainly didn't find myself being distracted by the fact the half the cast weren’t women; suspension of disbelief in the theatre is ridiculously easy to achieve. What this staging however underscores is the fact that gender is but a mundane and fluid concept. As we watch these actors, we become less interested in their romantic, physical pairings and more in the social issues and themes that lie within the play. And the gender-blind casting is successful in this regard.

Like all farces, Earnest thrives on excellent timing and Glen Goei's direction successfully brings out the hilarity of Wilde's lines alongside the abundant physical comedy: I loved the flamboyant flapping of tailcoats whenever a character takes a seat and Cecily's scream when Algernon proposes to her in the garden is priceless. Goei's staging however occasionally falls prey to over-affectation. Jack’s entrance in mourning garb in Act II does not have to be played with quite as much melodrama by Daniel York (beating breast and all) and Leong’s otherwise delightful Miss Prism is far too screechy and prone to silly hand gestures for my liking.

With Earnest, W!ld Rice demonstrates once again how they can take one of the most well-loved plays of the English theatre canon and make it entirely their own. I'm glad to have attended this tea party; it was quite a perfect soirée.

The Crystalwords score: 4/5

The Winslow Boy

by Terence Rattigan
The Old Vic, London

Based on the true story of a 13-year-old naval cadet who was expelled for stealing a five shilling postal order and the father who was determined to prove his son's innocence before the rigid Edwardian courts, Terence Rattigan’s The Winslow Boy is both an intimate domestic drama and a larger commentary on the rights of the citizen before the state. Both aspects of this play are captured beautifully in Lindsay Posner’s production at the Old Vic.

At the heart of this production is Henry Goodman's stellar performance as retired bank employee Arthur Winslow. One of Rattigan’s enduring themes is the characteristic emotional reserve of the English and Goodman captures this perfectly; a man who is not outwardly demonstrative but yet feels so strongly about the injustice done to his youngest son Ronnie (an engaging if overly earnest Charlie Rowe) that he is willing to put everything at stake to stand up for what he believes in and to "let right be done".

There is very good work by Nick Hendrix as musically-inclined elder son Dickie and Naomi Frederick as suffragette daughter Catherine whose own relationship turmoil plays out in parallel to her brother's court case. Peter Sullivan is magnetic as renowned barrister Sir Robert Morton who takes Ronnie's case, with his arrogant, orotund “Thank Yous” and the masterfully executed mock-courtroom scene at the end of Act II where we are left almost completely convinced of Ronnie's guilt. The only weak link in the cast is Wendy Nottingham as the maid Violet who feels the need to overegg her lines and make herself out as the stock comedy character; her melodramatic retelling of the court verdict at the end proved quite unnecessary.

Rattigan has been lauded for his probing and prescient account of societal issues and The Winslow Boy, with its condemnation of the tabloid press and the rigidities of the law towards everyday citizens, still rings true after all these years. Where I take issue is the fact that too many strands seem to unravel from what is essentially quite a distinct story. The plodding family solicitor Desmond Curry, who carries a torch for Catherine, seems a rather superfluous character. There is the hint of Arthur's wife Grace (a quietly powerful Deborah Findlay) being unhappy and overlooked but this is never taken up in any detail. I also wasn’t sure if it had been a conscious choice by Posner to play up the sexual tension between Sir Robert and Catherine throughout the play: it only makes their final exchange seem hollow.

Peter McKintosh's handsome set is replete with an adjoining dining room, courtyard and fine period details and the stage is beautifully lit by Tim Mitchell. While there is some drag in the second half, Posner's sensitive direction keeps the play flowing smoothly and he is alive to the unexpected comedy that can be found in Rattigan's lines. We can't help gunning for the victory of this little man who takes on the world.

The Crystalwords score: 4/5