The title
Homesick refers to different things: a longing for home, and
literally, being sick at home as the play is set in the SARS crisis
of 2003. This suggests an exploration of the tension between two opposing
impulses: longing for home, and being sick in/of it. Playwright Alfian
Sa'at explores this and more. He proceeds to unpack this central dilemma
with nine characters (including the absent paterfamilias) over ten days,
the period of home quarantine imposed upon the Koh family.
The plot, briefly: the somewhat estranged Koh family gathers in Singapore
from all corners of the world when the patriarch falls ill. When he
is diagnosed as a suspected SARS case, the entire family is slapped
with a home quarantine order. They are joined unexpectedly by a young
woman whose appearance injects more secrets and lies into the already
volatile mix. Over the course of the play, we get to learn about each
character's history as secrets are unearthed and lies exposed.
This is an ambitious undertaking in both the scope of the story and
the breadth of the issues covered. Homesick is really two plays,
a family (melo)drama and a play of ideas about identity and belonging.
It is to Alfian's credit that it feels like a largely coherent and convincing
whole. One wishes, however, that there was more space for some of the
ideas and themes to breathe, such as the prickly issue of racial prejudices
which the mixed marriage between Marianne (sibling number two of five)
and Manoj had stirred up.
The exploration of family dynamics and sibling rivalry was adroitly
handled and had the ring of emotional truth. When Ma pulls out a secret
photo album, Arthur realises that he was never the neglected middle
child he had believed himself to be. Such moments of familial interaction
and poignancy served to ground even the most potentially shrill and
one-note characters, keeping them human and believable.
Kudos as well to director Jonathan Lim for his deft and unobtrusive
direction. Given that the play clocked in at two and a half hours, pacing
was of the utmost importance. Lim and the untiring ensemble cast kept
the momentum going through each and every day of the ten-day quarantine.
While all the actors pulled off the neat trick of standing out as individual
characters and also coming together as a family/cast, Remesh Panicker's
low-key affability and Neo Swee Lin's sweet matriarch with a spine of
steel were particularly effective. There were also moments of visual
wit, as when the entire family is wearing surgical masks at the dining
table, with Ma urging the unmasked Cindy (the young woman who had arrived
unexpectedly) to eat.
Interestingly enough, the most disturbing point in the play came from
offstage - from the audience's reaction. When Daphne voices her
frustration, saying that she does not want to live out one man's dream
since doing so leaves no room for her own, and then proceeds to identify
this man as Lee Kuan Yew, there was a collective intake of the audience's
breath. It was as if the spectre of the bogeyman had been raised. How
and when did our founding father turn into he-who-must-not-be-named,
or more specifically, he-on-whom-aspersion-shall-not-be-cast? As a pointed
comment on freedom of expression and OB markers (real or imagined),
this was a moment that spoke volumes.
This scene attracted the most attention during the feedback session
after the play, with attendant questions about censorship. While the
MDA's approval of the play suggests a loosening up over freedom
of expression in theatre, what was even more heartening was Alfian's
response that he was not practising self-censorship. If anything, the
reverse was true and he was pushing the envelope instead. Alfian added
cheekily that the censoring should be left to the authorities; after
all, they are the ones who get paid for it.
Alfian also claimed during the session that he was not into grandstanding
and that he was more concerned with the integrity and credibility of
the characters. Still, one cannot deny the baiting power of statements
such as "Singapore is not a country" or that Singaporeans
do not exist. This was soapbox rhetoric that was meant to provoke a
reaction. But he was also scrupulous enough to provide multiple viewpoints
on any one issue which he handled with aplomb by juggling the interactions
of the various characters.
This was aided by the set design, which was essentially the interior
of the Koh family house. The living room, kitchen and dining area, and
bedrooms served to physically segregate the characters so that crucial
exchanges could take place between two or three characters while major
confrontations involving the entire cast played out downstage. For example,
youngest son Patrick's struggle with his looming National Service
commitment is examined from different angles, and in different spaces,
in his separate interactions with his brother-in-law Manoj and newcomer
Cindy.
Over the course of the play, the characters wrestle with so many fundamental
questions: "Who am I?" "If my mother is Peranakan and
my father speaks Hokkien, how does speaking Mandarin connect me to my
roots?" "Where is home?" "What are my familial obligations?"
"Should I stay or should I go?" Not every question is resolved,
but the asking and debating is important. If we cannot define ourselves
by answers, asking questions is at least a start.
As I think about the play, more questions loom. What does it say that
the character who most strongly embraces Singapore and sees it as the
land of opportunity is not from Singapore? What about those for whom
staying or leaving is not a choice? How much say do we have in the construction
of a national identity?
This was a most auspicious beginning to the inaugural Singapore Theatre
Festival. It bodes well for the rest of the festival, for the continued
existence of the festival, and, most importantly, for theatre to play
a vibrant and pertinent role in Singapore.
Boon was in the civil service for over six years and is currently
looking for another job. Even though waaay early retirement would be
nice, it does have the single, major drawback of not providing an income.
Apart from watching and criticising productions, his actual stage experience
dates back to secondary school.
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"This was a most auspicious beginning to the inaugural Singapore
Theatre Festival"
Second Opinion
Credits
Playwright: Alfian Sa'at
Director: Jonathan Lim
Cast: Chermaine Ang, Nelson Chia, Serena Ho, Lim Kay
Siu, Neo Swee Lin, Remesh Panicker, Eleanor Tan and Hansel Tan
Set Designer: Nicholas Li
Lighting Designer: Yo Shao Ann
Costume Designer: Mothar Kassim
Hair and Wigs: Ashley Lim
Music composer: Bang Wenfu
Production Manager: BB Koh
Stage Manager: Esther Teo
Technical Manager: Teo Kuang Han
Producer: Tony Trickett
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