OFFICIAL ARTICLE: RUBY MOON

Published in The Star on February 27 2013
 Little girl lost
By TERENCE TOH

To what lengths would you go to deal with grief?

The perfect lives of parents Ray (Alex Chua) and Sylvie Moon (Davina Goh) crumbles after their little girl Ruby mysteriously disappears one day.

 A child steps out on a short journey she’s made many, many times before, only to suddenly disappear.

 It is every parent’s nightmare. What could possibly have happened to her and how does one stay sane, dealing with something of this nature?

Explore the darkness of the human mind in the fractured fairytale Ruby Moon, a play that begins its run this week.

“Ruby Moon is an interesting play. It’s a missing child narrative. However, while the disappearance sets the stage for the story, the show is really about the parents, who we watch disintegrate night after night,” explains director Christopher Ling.

The play, written by Australian playwright Matt Cameron, features the talents of Alex Chua and Davina Goh, as well as a soundscape and original music by Onn San.

 It revolves around doting parents Ray (Chua) and Sylvie Moon (Goh) who live an idyllic lifestyle in the peaceful neighbourhood of Flaming Tree Grove, until their six-year-old daughter Ruby sets off to visit her grandmother – on her own – one day and never returns.

When an ominous parcel arrives on their doorstep, Ray and Sylvie are prompted to call on their enigmatic and eccentric neighbours (all also played by Chua and Goh) to solve the mystery of their daughter’s disappearance.

 However, it slowly becomes clear that there is something unsettling about the residents of Flame Tree Grove, especially Ray and Sylvie themselves.

Ling says that he was recommended to the play by the head of the drama department of the Australian International School of Malaysia last year.

“I like it because of its inherent challenges, it’s not exactly a straightforward play. Not only that, but at the time, the Nayati Moodiar kidnapping case had just been settled, and I thought it would be very topical,” Ling notes.

Ling adds that one of his biggest challenges was ensuring the production was staged in a responsible and sensitive manner, in the light of recent missing persons cases.

 “This topic is in the Malaysian psyche now. I had to make sure I was responsibly portraying the grief that this couple was feeling. We placed a lot of emphasis on how the love in their relationship is overpowered by this, which leads to two people desperately trying their best to get things back to how they were,” Ling says.

He also says that the play is not meant to be an official response to any case.

I hope despite the dark subjects, audiences will still be able to find the comedy in this play, and laugh. All theatre is a journey, and as freaky as that sounds, I hope they will be able to see some facet of themselves in the characters on stage.”

Composer Onn says that as a fan of horror, he was drawn to Ruby Moon’s dark themes. “I was naturally drawn to this subject. The characters are so juicy, it was almost a composer’s dream,” he shares.

His favourite piece of music in the play is the torch song sung by the character Veronica (Goh).

Meanwhile, lead actor Chua, who also portrays soldier Sonny Jim, Professor Ogle, and the clown Sid Craven, describes Ray Moon as a man doing everything he could to keep his family together.

“He views his role as man of the house in a very traditional way – he brings home the money and makes sure everything is okay. However, he absolutely fails at the one thing in his life he was supposed to do well, which is protect his daughter,” Chua notes.

 In contrast, Goh describes her character Sylvie as a sweet woman pushed to the edge. “Sylvie is a genuinely nice young lady, a doting wife and mother. However, this happens, and she becomes a crazy psychopath. You don’t realise how dark you can be until something like this happens to you.”

Goh, who also plays the stripper Veronica, the ultra-religious Dulcie Doily and babysitter Dawn, said playing multiple characters allowed her to try her hand at accent work.

“The most fun role to play was Veronica. I’m not naturally sensuous like that, so it was a nice little roleplaying experience. In terms of really getting into character however, my favourite character was Dawn. Her self-esteem issues were something I could relate to many years ago.”

OFFICIAL REVIEW: OCTOPUS

JUST THE FACTS:

I was sent by the Star to review ‘Octopus’ a while ago, a pretty good play. This is super delayed: the review was published on December 19, but only now uploading it. What can I say, I’ve been busy.

THE OFFICIAL REVIEW:

OCTOPUS starts off light and breezy: Kevin and Blake, a young and good-looking couple, invite the older and more experienced Max and Andy to their place for a night of fun.

Despite their reservations, nervousness eventually gives way to excitement, and after some initial awkwardness, the two pairs click. Before they know it, some clothes come off (to the delight of many of the women and gay men in the audience) and a night of pleasure ensues.



Malik Taufiq (left) and Will Quah have great chemistry in Octopus.
Watching the first few scenes of Steve Yockey’s play, one might be tempted to think it is a light-hearted comedy or romantic drama. The banter is light, innuendo flows readily, and the characters tease each other about their quirks and foibles.

I assure you, however, that nothing could be further from the truth. Octopus slowly becomes darker and darker as Kevin and Blake find that their night of fun has unexpected repercussions, not just for them but for Max and Andy as well.

Kevin and Blake are visited by a mysterious telegraph boy – always soaking wet and whistling when he appears – who delivers them messages that become more and more sinister over time.

Add the threat of a sea monster from the ocean floor, and the discovery that they may be infected with a deadly disease, and Kevin and Blake soon find themselves trapped in a frightening situation, which forces them to examine the nature of their relationship.

Octopus is a strange blend of drama, comedy, romance, allegory and horror. It is directed by Kelvin Wong and features an all-male cast, namely Malik Taufiq, William Quah, Nandang Abdul Rahman, Jack Lua and Edmund Wong.

This gripping examination of commitment rendered through a post-modern gay lens succeeds due to its engaging themes and wonderful acting.



Yockey is an established American playwright and an alumni of the Actor’s Express Intern Company (2001/2002). His play was originally developed and produced by Actor’s Express Theatre in Atlanta, Georgia, and opened in January 2008 to rave reviews before its West Coast run in San Francisco, where it was critically praised too.

Octopus’ subject matter and mature themes are difficult to portray convincingly, but the current production handles all that successfully.

How far would you stay with someone, for the sake of love? What happens when mere love isn’t enough?

When a relationship detours into dark, unfamiliar waters, how far should one try to keep it afloat, instead of just letting it sink?

The characters find themselves overturned and overwhelmed by the events of their fateful night together, and discover new things about themselves and their partners that they are not comfortable with.

This rude awakening – realising that the people they love may not be worth loving – is a menace more terrifying than the unseen sea monster.

The reality of such discoveries can sometimes be too hard to tackle, and Octopus also explores the human tendency to choose escape rather than confrontation.



Many of us refuse to accept truths that stare at us in the face. Instead, we find solace in uncertainty and bliss in ignorance, a fact beautifully illustrated both by Kevin’s refusal to read his telegrams and Blake’s reluctance to get himself checked.

All the characters shine in their roles. Malik and Quah, who have fantastic chemistry, deliver splendid performances as Kevin and Blake, respectively. The scenes in which they interact and argue are captivating and feel very natural. It is delightful watching them transform into fully-fleshed, authentic characters.

Wong also delivers a fantastic performance. He starts off as the jovial, flamboyant telegraph boy who brings comic relief, and effectively transitions into a sinister, dark character towards the end. The scene in which he confronts Malik brims with dramatic tension and is one of the highlights of Octopus.

But Yockey’s play has some weaknesses: it drags a bit in the beginning, and the message becomes quite heavy-handed towards the end. Occasionally, it is overly cryptic: for example, I’m still unsure what the sea monster represents. Is it a symbol of the overwhelming pressure of guilt, the devastation of a breakdown in relationships, or even the ravaging menace of HIV/AIDS? Or, perhaps, a combination of all three?

Despite these shortcomings, Octopus is a wonderful piece of theatre that is meaningful and compelling. Its initial light tone and fantastical nature is a smokescreen for its engaging examination of complex issues.

Thanks to good directing and an immensely talented cast, Yockey’s play will grab you from the start and not let go until you are caught up in its sinewy tentacles of commitment, alienation, obsession and insecurity.

Highly recommended.

RANDOM OBSERVATIONS
-I worked with Malik Taufiq before (he played Inspector Andrew in my S&S piece, ‘A Grave Matter’, and he is a really talented, warm and funny guy.

-I originally wondered why the play was called ‘Octopus’, when there was no reference or even mention of the creature in the play, and then it hit me: the play opens with a gay foursome. Four people, four pairs of legs entwined..hmmm?

UNOFFICIAL REVIEW: THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA: VOYAGE OF THE DAWN TREADER

JUST THE FACTS:As a fan of C.S. Lewis, I was of course intrigued as to how the latest Narnia film would turn out.

THE UNOFFICIAL REVIEW:


As we see from the trailer, the third Narnia film opens in a British war recruitment office. Spunky young Edmund, lying about his age, is trying to sign up, hoping to protect good old Mother England by venturing deep into the land of the Germans and take down the mean old Kaiser himself. Sadly, his attempt is busted by his precocious sister Lucy, who whisks him off to go home, where they find themselves caught up in another exciting adventures.

As the Pevensie siblings leave however, one can’t help but wonder what would have happened if Edmund had succeeded, and gone off to fight in WW1. Tank battles? Hellish nights spent in trenches? Ravaging of nubile young milkmaids with blonde pigtails and leiderhosen? Your guess is as good as mine. What I would say however, is that even if Edmund Goes to War had been two hours of him eating sauerkraut and learning to pronounce Achtung, it would still have been more exciting than The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, which is dull, dreary, and uninspired.

The film begins as the other films in the series do. Edmund and Lucy, perennial Narnia tourists, find themselves sucked into their favorite fantasy world again, this time bringing their hygiene-obsessed, annoying cousin Eustace along. Landing in the ocean, they are rescued by their old buddy Prince Caspian, who has set sail with a ragtag bunch to locate the Seven Lost Lords Of Narnia.

Why is Caspian the Friendly Prince doing this? Seriously, I have no idea. Perhaps to collect all the backdated Christmas presents they owe him? Maybe. Why does the Prince of a mighty nation have nothing better to do than go sailing off on a mad quest with little chance of success? I don’t know. Why isn’t T-Pain’s kickass I’m On A Boat not on the film soundtrack? It’s a mystery.\



Regardless, the crew of the Dawn Treader find themselves thrown into an exciting adventure, as they visit exotic places like the Land of Hopscotch Champions, Temptation Island, and the site of the Narnian Last Supper (yes, this film is still a Christian allegory, REMEMBER?). While these are all interesting places, too little time is spent in each location for it to truly stick in one’s imagination, resulting in a rather routine feel for the film, as if the director was checking boxes on his ‘Stuff from the Book Which I Better Include’ list as he went along.

The same routine feel also goes for the plot: Prince Caspian has to collect the seven swords of the Seven Lords (say that three times fast) to place at a table to defeat a wicked island. There are moments of real menace, for example the final battle, but for most of the time, the film lacks the suspense necessary to keep its audience truly captivated. If the film’s intent was to capture the dull, monotonous, often nauseating experience of being at sea, then Yawn Treader is a success, if not, it is a disappointment.

Dawn Treader even drags at parts, an unforgivable sin for a fantasy film. The action sequences are also few and unmemorable; this fact is made worse by the lack of a proper villain to keep things interesting.



There are some good parts: the encounter with the star on Ramandu’s island is well done, and the final scene with Aslan is beautiful and rather touching. Its characters also do a decent job, with Will Poulter particularly effective as the sniveling Eustace. Of the animated characters, Simon Pegg delivers a chirpy, spirited performance as the courageous Reepicheep, although I found myself missing Eddie Izzard. Liam Neeson, however phones in a performance as Aslan, appearing to deliver a few dramatic lines here and there before disappearing for most of the film, most probably to do liony things like curling his mane and roaring in MGM film openings. (Is this blasphemy? Please don’t smite me)

All in all, recommended only for Narnia fans, although they might like to bring a nice pot of coffee with them into the cinema. Dawn Treader is a dreary film which you will most likely forget half an hour after seeing. If you are really eager for an exciting, epic swashbuckling adventure on the high seas, wait for Pirates of the Caribbean 4, at least that has Jack Sparrow and half-naked mermaids in it.

OVERALL GRADE: C

RANDOM OBSERVATIONS

The moral of the story seems to be: Being greedy will make you kickass.

I am sad to have to give the film a bad review, as I have always been a fan of C.S. Lewis’s The Chronicles of Narnia. The film series is suffering: already it was dropped by its original producers Disney due to Prince Caspian performing under par, and even after being picked up by Fox, it’s not doing well at the box office. I have a feeling they may not make any more Narnia films, which saddens me as The Silver Chair was one of my favorite Narnia books.

Yes, I get it that Tilda Swinton is a good actress, and she did a great job as the villainess in the first film. But shoehorning her into the third film despite having her having died in the first is RIDICILOUS and CONTRIVED! Next film, I bet they’re going to cast her as the Lady of the Green Kirtle . Remember folks, you heard it here first!

OFFICIAL REVIEW: Follow the Light

JUST THE FACTS: A theatre play I was sent to review at the PJ Live Arts, Jaya One. Published in The Star on December 7th, 2010.

THE OFFICIAL REVIEW:

THE Christmas story has often been called the “Greatest Story Ever Told”, and for good reason: its age-old themes of love, sacrifice and honour have remained in our imaginations for almost forever. We all probably know the trappings of the tale by heart: the visit of an angel to a young virgin, the birth in a lowly stable, the coming of shepherds and kings, all to give him homage.

The tale of the birth of Jesus Christ has been immortalised in countless forms of song, film and literature. Follow The Light, a local musical “mostly based on the Christmas story”, is the latest incarnation of this tale.




Calling all angels: (From left) Anrie Too, Nicole Ann-Thomas, Song- Fan Seah and Suzan Manen as celestial singers, in Follow The Light .

Currently being staged at the PJ Live Arts Centre at Jaya One in Petaling Jaya, Selangor, until Dec 19, the production proved to be a light-hearted and entertaining watch.

Featuring the talents of Juwita Suwito, Aaron Khaled, Tim Howe, Zalina Lee, Rydell Anna Abdul, Adrien Zaffri, Liang, Xavier Fong, Tony Leo Selvaraj, Suzan Manen, Anrie Too, Nicole Ann-Thomas and Song-Fan Seah, Follow The Light was directed by Colin Kirton, with book, music and lyrics by Nick Choo. The musical was originally produced by Choo in November 2005 as part of his studies in Perth, where it won Best Musical and Best Overall Construction in Western Australia’s Finley Awards for Independent Theatre.

Story-wise, Follow The Light sticks closely to the source material: young Mary is told by an angel that she is to bear a child despite the fact that she is a virgin and married to a carpenter named Joseph. To mark this, a bright star appears in the sky, and various people bear witness to it. One of them, a young shepherd named Marvin, is compelled to follow it, despite having to look for his lost flock of sheep and dealing with his bickering siblings. The same goes for the three wise men who, having made their way out of humble beginnings, long for fame and glory.



Joys of parenthood: Mary (Juwita Suwito) and Joe ( Aaron Khaled) are questioning their fate .

The plot of the musical was mostly conventional with little to distinguish it from other depictions of the Christmas story, except for perhaps a new backstory to the shepherds and the wise men. Even then, this had mixed results: while the sacrifice-themed story of the three wise men was moving, the subplot of the bickering shepherds sometimes felt overdrawn and contrived. The story also proved somewhat draggy in certain spots, particularly during the first act, but thankfully managed to build up momentum to deliver a tight and mesmerising second act, with all of the plot threads coming together to create a good performance.

Despite storyline issues, however, Follow The Light still managed to delight, mostly due to its incredible musical numbers.

The musical featured a wide array of genres, with each of its characters having a signature musical styling: gospel and R&B for the angels, rock-infused numbers for the shepherds, hip hop for the three wise men, and so on. Mixing so many diverse forms of music into one show is not an easy task, and Choo should be commended for having combined all these different styles into a satisfying whole.

The talented cast, most of them showbiz veterans, delivered commendable performances, shining on group numbers such as Bethlehem and Three Gifts. Highlights of the show were Suwito’s beautiful, tear-jerking renditions of Be It Unto Me and Beautiful Child, as well as Follow The Light, a delightfully catchy tune that will stick in your head long after the musical is over.

The few dance numbers were also decently done, despite choreography being messy in some parts.

The cast also did justice to their roles despite occasionally being wooden. Howe did well as the laid-back, Elvis-inspired “angel on vacation” Gabe, while Liang, Fong and Selvaraj were effective as Bart, Mel and Gaspar, the swaggering, street-talking, brash Three Wise Men.




Suwito also did well in her musical theatre debut as the sweet yet determined Mary, and was partnered well with Aaron as her headstrong husband Joe.

The play was sprinkled with humour throughout, most of it in the form of witty lyrics or ridiculous puns. The only parts that did not work, however, were when its characters, despite being in biblical Bethlehem, suddenly decided to make jokes about modern-day Malaysian culture. While the play’s tone was very tongue-in-cheek, these references felt very jarring and unnecessary, especially since the musical was doing well without them.

All in all, while not a perfect production, Follow The Light is just the thing to watch to inject some cheer as the Christmas season approaches.

RANDOM OBSERVATIONS

-I first met Nick Choo when we were both competing in Short and Sweet Musical this October. He’s a really nice guy with a remarkable ear and talent for music. His play, Little Girl Lost won many of the prizes, and for good reason: it was a well-written piece with great numbers.

-Juwita Suwito really has an AMAZING voice.

-One day I would like to see a Christmas musical told from the point of view of the innkeeper. It would be a comic and ironic piece about the lengths he goes to satisfy his eccentric, demanding rich tenants, little knowing of the marvellous miracle that he has sent to the stable.

UNOFFICIAL REVIEW: DISNEY’S TANGLED

JUST THE FACTS:
I’m a sucker for Disney movies, so I absolutely had to catch the latest one!

THE REVIEW:



Tangled: truly a cut above most of the animated films out there nowadays. A sweet, occasionally hair-raising story, the film is one of the better efforts woven by Disney, filled with locks of fun, proving to be a wonderful (pony) tale that will delight even the most extreme fringes of society. So comb one, comb all: to call this film boring would be a bald-faced lie!

Alright, I’ll stop with the dreadful hair puns. (Or should I say braid-ful?) Those really do no justice to Tangled, the latest in the Disney animated canon which manages to do a wonderful thing: take a ten-minute story of false imprisonment, vegetable cravings and housebreaking, and turn it into a delightful story featuring lovable characters, genuine emotion, humor, and the most badass horse since The Return of Zorro.

The premise of Tangled sticks closely to Rapunzel, the original Grimm fairytale it was based on, with a few exceptions: for one thing, the main female character is now a descendant of royalty, because Disney loves its princesses like Lindsay Lohan loves booze. Her hair also now has more to it than just its considerable length. It now possesses incredible healing powers, sort of a magical blondness (which is also probably the secret of Paris Hilton’s fame), which is exploited by Mother Gothel, a creepy selfish old woman wanting to use it to ensure her perpetual youth. Poor Rapunzel is thus kidnapped and locked in a tower, where she eventually encounters dashing Flynn Rider, a roguish Jake Gylenhall-lookalike on the run from the law.

Granted the story in Tangled is as predictable as a weather report in the South Pole, complete with stock characters and routine plot: lovable protagonist has funny animal sidekicks, meets charming love interest, plot is complicated by main villain and supporting antagonists, et al, et al. Anyone who’s ever watched a Disney movie can probably predict how the film turns out, with the only real surprise in the plot being a callback to the Rapunzel’s original source material that might seem to come out of the blue for some viewers.

But this predictability does not hurt Tangled in any way: people don’t watch a Disney movie for thought-provoking themes or incredible plot twists, just like no one reads Playboy for its articles. We go to the House of Mouse for happy endings, for sweet saccharine romance and catchy tunes, and Tangled delivers all of that, its derivative nature invoking feelings of sentimentality and familiarity instead of repetitiveness.

Tangled’s characters are a memorable bunch, particularly Rapunzel (played to perfection by Mandy Moore, who I used to have a MASSIVE crush on when I was a kid), who manages to be a rarity among Disney heroines: a sweet and good-natured free spirit who proves capable of defending herself when the time come for it. Flynn Rider (Chuck’s Zachary Levi) also delights, managing to deliver some incredibly snarky lines, while high-strung, dedicated Swiss-army horse Maximus steals every scene he is featured. My only complaint is with Tangled’s villain, Mother Gothel (Donna Murphy). While starting off as a complex character, appearing to be genuinely concerned about her adopted daughter despite pursuing her selfish gains, she eventually degenerates into a standard cartoon villain by the end, cackling and scheming and plotting dark deeds. It would have been nice if she had retained this earlier complexity throughout the film.




Visually, Tangled is stunning, its breath-taking landscapes inspiring. This beauty is also enhanced by Disney’s sublime gift for emotional pathos: certain little scenes, like Rapunzel frolicking in the woods after leaving the tower for the first time, or the king shedding a tear as he recalls his lost child, are splendidly done, and will no doubt somehow cause cinema halls around the world to suddenly feel a lot dustier than usual. And do not forget the gorgeous, jaw-dropping ‘lanterns on the lake’: that scene is destined to go down as a classic Disney moment.

Musically, Tangled does a decent job, with tunes composed by Alan Menken, with lyrics by Glenn Slater. The songs do a good job of capturing the essence of the scenes they are featured in, but sadly, there are no really memorable numbers in Tangled, no incredible scenes of spectacle which you will be humming long after you leave the theatre. The best song of the lot, in my opinion, is the delightfully whimsical group number I’ve Got A Dream, because hey, anything with barbarians in it is always pure gold.

All in all, Tangled is a pretty good watch, arguably the best movie to be released this holiday season. (That’s right, I prefer this hairy film to the other Harry film) A beautiful callback to the days of classic Disney, the film succeeds due to its lush visuals and heart-warming story. It is also a nice reminder that animated films do not need to be mere repositories of pop-culture references or non-stop toilet humor, as sadly seems to be the trend nowadays.

OVERALL GRADE: A

FUN FACTS

-The look of Tangled was inspired by the classic painting The Swing by 18th century painter Jean-Honoré Fragonard. It is considered as one of the masterpieces of the rococo era.



-Tangled is the most expensive animated film ever made, with a budget of 260 MILLION DOLLARS. I really hope it manages to be a box office hit, though thankfully it has already been the most successful opening for a Disney movie so far.

- While Mandy Moore does well as Rapunzel, part of me wishes that they had stuck with the original plan to use Kristin Chenowith (Glinda from Wicked, April Rhodes in Glee). Her voice is sex-flavored honey, she could release an album of her reading the telephone directory and I’d buy four copies.

RANDOM OBSERVATIONS

-I predict a lot of people are going to want pet chameleons after this film. Disney is good at making non-lovable things lovable. One day they should make a film about me.

-Rapunzel had magical blonde hair which Mother Gothel refused to let her cut. Was this confined only to the hair on her HEAD? What about..oh goodness, was there a reason she was wearing a long dress with long sleeves throughout the film?

-How does Rapunzel know when her birthday is? Did Mother Gothel need to tell her when it was?

-The plot of this story is a lot like The Hunchback of Notre Dame, my all-time FAVORITE Disney film. Sheltered character is imprisoned as a kid by a evil character who wants to exploit him/her, and warned to never leave. He/she is eventually brought out and accepted by a character on the run from the law who meets him/her accidentally. Of course, Rapunzel is a lot nicer to look at than Quasimodo.

OFFICIAL REVIEW: Serangan Zombi Pertama di Malaysia

THE FACTS: A theatre play I was sent to review at the Kuala Lumpur Performing Arts Centre. Published in The Star on November 28th, 2010.

THE OFFICIAL REVIEW:Pack your bags, protect your brains and head for the hills. The zombies are here!

IT seems that the walking dead are everywhere nowadays. Whether shuffling restlessly on television or movie screens, ambushing you in huge mobs in PC or Playstation games, or making their menace felt through the pages of novels, it appears that the zombie has become a mainstay of popular culture.

And now, with the staging of Serangan Zombi Pertama di Malaysia at the Kuala Lumpur Performing Arts Centre (KLPAC), it appears that zombies – grotesque monsters that audiences just love to hate – have conquered the stage as well.




Sandee Chew and Redza Minhat are impressive as Salmon and Ma’An.
The production, a stylized depiction of a zombie apocalypse taking place on Malaysian shores, features many unconventional narrative techniques, not all of which work effectively, resulting in a rather inconsistent show.

Serangan Zombi features the talents of Redza Minhat, Sandee Chew, Ashraf Zain and Shamaine Othman. It is an anthology of several short interconnected pieces: Ma’an and Minah Bakery, written by Redza Minhat and directed by Megat Sharizal; Heenh, written by Adiwijaya and directed by Yusman Mokhtar, and three smaller pieces, Memories, Emptiness and Loneliness, written and directed by Ayam Fared.

Ma’An and Minah Bakery is a character-driven story of two unlikely survivors of the apocalypse, who find themselves drawn together out of necessity. Diary of the Dead-style video-journalist Salmon wants only to rest momentarily before stepping out into the action again; however, neurotic, nerdy Ma’An wants nothing more than to remain where he is, safe and secure.

What results is akin to a zombie Odd Couple, or, to use zombie-movie terms, Alice from Resident Evil forced to move in with Columbus from Zombieland.

While most zombie tales begin with a confrontation and end with its characters reaching refuge, Megat’s piece begins in the safe room instead, and focuses more on how the survivors deal with each other rather than hordes of the walking dead.

The characters serves as an interesting look at the nature of change and how people deal with it. Former bakery owner Salmon embraces change with gusto, seizing it as an opportunity to make a difference. However, Ma’An actively resists it, preferring to maintain as much order as he can impose on his reinforced pantry, and finding comfort in unchangeable, immutable laws of mathematics.

While storyline of Bakery is rather predictable at times, it is nonetheless compelling due to a witty script and capable acting. Chew does well as the gutsy, high-strung Salmon, while Redza shines as Ma’An, portraying his character in both an endearing and a highly realistic manner.




Grotesquely lovable: Ashraf Zain (as Zombi Boi) and Shamaine Othman (Zombi Grrl) in Heenh. – Kelab Shashin Fotografi KL
Heenh is a landmark production, possibly the only production in history to be staged mainly in the zombie language, with subtitles in English and Malay projected on screens behind the actors.

Focusing on the unlikely bond between two zombies, Meshaagh and Hr’Ar, the play attempts to answer the age-old question: Does being a zombie come naturally? Are the shuffling walk, terrifying grunts and hunger for human flesh innate instincts (or should we say in-dead instincts?), or do the undead pick it up along the way?

Heenh is quite gripping, with actors Ashraf and Shamaine doing well as the zombies. Denied the option of human dialogue, they have to rely on the most primal form of acting, using grunts and body language, and they succeed at this admirably, managing to make their grotesque, flesh-hungry characters lovable and even pitiable.

Ayam Fared’s pieces are slotted alternately throughout the performance, with Memories played at the start, Emptiness inbetween, and Loneliness at the end. These pieces, while still focusing on Salmon, are less stories than stand-alone experimental segments, relying mostly on ambient sounds and the actions of actress Chew to convey his message.

When Fared’s pieces succeed, they do so admirably. Emptiness is particularly inspired, combining harsh and unsettling background sounds with graceful, elegant movements. It emphasises the human tendency to create form out of nothing, and to make sense of nonsense.

Another memorable scene is the slow progression of a zombie parade in Emptiness – it is delightfully creepy.



Unfortunately, Fared’s pieces rely on a prolonged buildup, with little happening on stage. This results in making the audience bored and restless, instead of keeping them in suspense.

Certain parts carry on for far too long and lose their meaning. And certain segments, such as the disorienting strobe lighting in Memories, just do not work.

Credit must be given to the make-up and costume department for managing to create grotesque, yet distinctive looks for each of the zombies on set.

The attention to detail is commendable: you see zombies sporting all manner of wounds, scars and disfigurements that would scare even the most experienced of surgeons.

The unconventional narrative techniques and unsettling tone of Serangan Zombi Pertama di Malaysia may not be for everyone, and those who expect a straightforward, action-packed zombie shoot-em-up will most likely be disappointed by this production.

However, if you can look past all that, you may find the show compelling as it manages to be an unusual and complex examination of zombies, who are cast less as a mindless horde than catalysts for change, or metaphors for dehumanisation.

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(Cut from the entry for spacing reasons)

Another thing Serangan Zombi does well is effectively characterizing its zombies, making them recognisably humanoid while maintaining a terrifying monstrosity. Why zombies work, after all, is because they are like us and not truly like us, people with everything human about them removed. While Serangan’s zombies may be overly person-like at times, they have thankfully retained their grotesqueness, unlike a certain other popular series which has transformed its characters into sparkling, emo-music playing wankers.




RANDOM OBSERVATIONS
What is it about zombie slaying action girls that makes them totally hot?? Alice from Resident Evil, Zoey from Left4Dead, Wichita from Zombieland..

I think if there really were a zombie apocalypse in Malaysia, we should lure all the walking dead into MidValley; their legs would have all fallen off from overuse once they reach one end from another.

Official Review: Ionesco x 2

THE FACTS: a theatre play I was sent to review at the Kuala Lumpur Performing Arts Centre, Sentul. Published in The Star newspaper on November 23, 2010.

THE OFFICIAL REVIEW

DO you complain that most forms of entertainment nowadays are too clichéd and formulaic? Are you bothered that movies and television nowadays have become stale and much too predictable, with little that shocks or surprises you anymore?

If you do, then perhaps French and Romanian playwright Eugene Ionesco is who you’re looking for: his plays are anything but predictable. They open slowly, lulling the audience with seemingly normal characters in normal situations who gradually go down unexpected pathways often tinged with passion and conflict, and often end with a violent climax that takes one by surprise.

Watching an Ionesco play can be quite an experience, as seen at Ionesco x2: The Lesson And The Chairs, currently on at the Kuala Lumpur Performing Arts Centre (KLPac) in Sentul. The double bill of the classic works, newly interpreted for a modern Malaysian audience, was captivating, mostly due to powerful acting and simple yet intimate staging.




Hey teacher, leave those kids alone: Payal Vashist (right) and Nabil Zakaria in The Lesson.

Ionesco is hailed as one of the foremost playwrights of the Theatre of the Absurd, which is devoted to examining the irrationality of understanding the often chaotic and destructive forces behind human nature.

These themes are often reflected in the structure of his plays, which reject conventional storylines, and use cyclical repetition and mechanical characters who speak in non sequiturs.

While the absurd nature of Ionesco’s plays can often be confusing and off-putting, particularly to those new to theatre, they have often been described as compelling – they are profound despite not making much sense.

Ionesco x2 effectively captured this, opening with a strong performance of The Lesson, directed by Christopher Ling and featuring Payal Vashist, Nabil Zakaria and Alex Chua. The play centred upon a young pupil who visits a professor, eager to be educated, only for things to end in tragedy as both characters become increasingly frustrated, pushing each other till breaking point with their respective quirks.

One of the more unique points of this production was the gender-flip in its casting – male characters were portrayed by female actors, and vice-versa.



Nothing musical here: Alexis Wong and Uihua Chuah in ‘The Chairs’
This unconventional approach ultimately paid off, due to impassioned performances: while Chua and Zakaria deliver decent, if somewhat wooden performances as the butler Hector and The Pupil, respectively, Vashist shone as the Professor. Her performance was incredibly captivating, serving as a fine showcase for her versatility as she effectively and naturally portrayed excited enthusiasm, frustration, murderous rage, repressed lust and, finally, terrified guilt as the play progressed.

The Chairs, which came on after a brief intermission, was also delightful. Directed by Kelvin Wong, and featuring Uihua Cheah, Alexis Wong and Freddy Tan, it centred on an elderly couple who decide one day to conduct an educational lecture, inviting some unusual guests – non-existent ones.

The invisible guests do not stop them from trying to be good hosts as they cajole, chat up, bicker with and even make love to them. Things come to a head, however, with an unexpected arrival, which proves far too much for the couple to bear.

As the play came to a close, the sound of audience cheering could be heard over a stage filled with empty chairs, resulting in an unsettling feeling of absence and loss.

The play was slightly adapted for a Malaysian setting, with the characters dressed in Chinese attire and making reference to Beijing. Cheah did well as the Old Man, while Tan managed to delight despite his smaller, silent role.

The audience’s favourite for the night, however, was clearly Wong, who excelled as Semiramis, the Old Woman. Infusing her character with just the right touch of humour and pathos, Wong’s performance, from her croaky voice to her frazzled mannerisms, was incredibly gripping.

The Chairs, however, was not as satisfying as The Lesson, if only because it was somewhat tedious towards the end, particularly with the draggy scene of the Emperor’s “appearance”.

While entertaining, the plays may leave you scratching your head, and wondering, “What was that all about?” If one squints closely, one may find meaning in them. Perhaps The Lesson is a satire on contemporary education, or on the lack of reason in conformity. Perhaps The Chairs is a discourse on the futility of communication, or a dark examination of delusions.

But that may be stretching things too far. Ionesco’s plays are a celebration of the absurd, after all, and perhaps what we can all take away from these two is this: just like life itself, things don’t always have to make sense, and there is little point in trying to understand them.