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>invitation to treat: wills and secession by w!ld rice >reviewed by jolene hwee >date:
7 apr 2003 >tired
already? go home then |
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This second instalment of Eleanor Wong's trilogy, WILLS AND SECESSION (W&S) sees Ellen (Tan Kheng Hua) returning from liberal London to deal with family matters when her mother dies. In W&S, Ellen changes from the confused Ellen of 'Mergers & Accusations' to one living and loving with the newfound confidence of a married gay woman. Her Bible-thumpingly righteous Christian sister, Grace (Karen Tan), decides to do her marital duty by following her pastor husband to Surabaya for missionary work leaving Ellen (and a cancer-stricken Lesley) to look after her aging father. The play is pensive, broken by sudden releases of tension, operating on an emotive as well as intellectual level that made the rich multi-layered dynamics of the script possible. Fraught with stillness, silence and tiredness, with missed chances and angry disconnections, it dealt with lost desires, lukewarm touches, obligations and a grudging acceptance of life and death. More than being just about the ghosts of the sisters' childhood (wonderfully conveyed through bursts of song that delighted the audience), more than being about God or the belief in one, this play was about the reality of responsibility, about hurt that lasts, about the cruelty of disease. The script was honest, even confrontational, forcing one to feel less like a voyeur and more like a participant. The words spoken were raw and real and I found myself nodding in empathy as the lines were delivered, feeling the pain and crying the tears. |
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>>'The script was honest, even confrontational, forcing one to feel less like a voyeur and more like a participant' |
Skilful direction
created an uncanny synergy between the director's vision and the playwright's
own. Not only was the pace well controlled, each stage direction worked
only to enhance the essence of the original script. The set was sparse
but not barren, consisting largely of hard, heavy oblong tables that doubled
up as chairs and shelves. The actors moved the props themselves, fast
and loud, their shoes scraping as they pushed. All of this underlined
what was essentially just pure magical acting on bare boards with an honesty
that was unflinching and raw. |
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As taboo-breaking becomes as stale as month-old sliced bread in the Singapore theatre scene, both the director and the writer have reminded us here that life, art and sex do not fall into conveniently-shaped vessels, but rather we have to learn to perceive the qualities of the uniquely-shaped vessels in which they choose to offer themselves to us. |