Back in
2001, Inkpot writer James Koh witnessed W!ld Rice's first staging of
Blithe Spirit. In his review,
he describes how impressed he was with the interpretation - a "seamless
transposition of 1940s London to present-day Singapore", as the
company excelled in their adaptation of an apparently dated, thoroughly
British text to the local stage, still flush with its native wit and
lightness.
Six years later, I'm watching the revival of Noel Coward's famous play,
with many of the top-notch original actors from its previous run reprising
their roles. Once again, Lim Kay Siu and Neo Swee Lin play the married
couple Charles and Ruth Koh (originally Condomine), exhibiting their
natural chemistry as husband and wife. Once again, Tan Kheng Hua plays
Elvira, Charles's deceased ex-wife, conjured up by a medium, now haunting
the household and wreaking mischievous havoc on her husband's life.
And once again, these actors spout Coward's tongue-twisting lines in
the uncontrived, believable local accents of upper middle-class Singaporeans,
communicating both the sense and humour of his intricate banter and
repartee.
And yet - something's not quite right. There's an odd, off-centre je
ne sais quoi about this staging: our laughter falls out of rhythm
on occasion; the humour feels uneven, mismatched. Like many a production,
this adaptation is haunted by its original.
We've all by now become familiar with W!ld Rice's legacy of highly successful
theatrical adaptations - consider their performances of the Franco-American
comedy Boeing
Boeing and the neo-Japanese kyogen The
Magic Fundoshi, as well as their fairytale pantomimes - and
perhaps we expect near-perfect reinterpretations of exogenous scripts,
compounding the gleeful verve of appropriation with the potent genius
of the classics.
In Blithe Spirit, however, we encounter a strange, subtle clash
between Singapore and British styles of comedy. You see, British comedy
tends to involve a battle between uppity order and zany chaos - a conflict
easily seen as the Koh/Condomines try in vain to preserve their peaceful
suburban way of life against the destructive attacks of the phantom
Elvira. Singapore comedy, however, is of a more rambunctious nature
- it assumes chaos as a starting point, with the comic standing on the
edges of society mocking social and political systems - think of the
Dim Sum Dollies, Broadway Beng, or the stand-up acts of Kumar.
The clash is crucially visible in the figure of Madame Arcati, the
eccentric medium who is responsible for summoning Elvira's spirit during
a séance, and one of Coward's best-loved characters. This time
the role's given to local comedienne Selena Tan, a member of the Dim
Sum Dollies trio. Selena plays the character with gallons of jolly earthiness
and solid gusto - but seems quite insensitive to her role as a bridge
between the worlds of chaos and order; to the extremely English way
her character insists on the dignity and logic of her singing baby songs
to her disembodied spirit guide. Sure, her use of Singlish gets some
laughs, but she alters the very balance of the play - without real pretensions
to refinement, her character is not truly absurd.
In fact, the entire play's off-kilter nature may stem from an uncertain
grasp of the dynamic of chaos and order. The twin comedic styles of
high literary wit and slapstick don't gel well - in particular, the
gag of Ruth misunderstanding Charles's verbal attacks on Elvira as being
against herself grew especially tiresome on repetition. The household's
gradual descent into disorder was also portrayed with insufficient grace
- every time the house was damaged by the haunting, the broken pieces
were cleaned up behind curtains, failing to properly foreshadow the
explosion of poltergeistic chaos that served as the finale.
These flaws in Blithe Spirit are by no means particularly
glaring - in fact, I'd say the show functioned extremely well as a vehicle
for entertainment - one must appreciate how it gives license to Swee
Lin to play a sophisticated lady, when she's so often typecast as a
motherly figure. It's also imperative to commend Kheng Hua for her intoxicating
charisma and seductive mischief in her rendition of Elvira, delivering
a jolt of energy to the stage every time she wafts in dressed in gauze
and daubed in blue make-up. Indeed, several of the play's flaws seem
to lie with the classic script itself - I find the resolution unsatisfying
even in print, and I commend the director for his minor cuts to the
lengthy text. I write of these imperfections because they intrigue me,
being illustrative of the tricky game of adaptation.
Glen Goei writes in his Director's Message that W!ld Rice's performance
of Blithe Spirit ties in with the company's aim "to reclaim
classics and make them relevant to contemporary audiences". And
it is good for a theatre company to function as a medium - an entity
that conjures up dead, difficult texts of the past and manifests them
live in the theatre. The apparitions of such efforts may be changed
from their original form - sometimes for better, sometimes for worse,
but usually carrying with them a hint of magic.
Still, it's a little out-of-date to applaud the company for a feat
of creative adaptation which they accomplished all the way in 2001.
So go on. Don't rest on your laurels. We want a different trick.
First Impression
As expected, Blithe Spirit is a barrel of laughs - but it's
not quite the perfect W!ld Rice comedy. Noel Coward's thoroughly English
script survives a Singaporean adaptation decently - Lim Kay Siu and
Neo Swee Lin are generally believable in their roles as an upper-class
middle-aged couple, haunted by the ghost of the husband's former wife.
However, at times the eloquent words and stiff British register elude
the mouths of the actors, and become still more contrived in the speech
and antics of lower-class characters such as Pam Oei's Filipina maid
and Selena Tan's more Singlish-spouting medium, Madam Arcati. There's
also an odd mix of comedic styles in this play - measures of literary
wit and heavy-handed slapstick which don't quite work together. Thankfully,
Tan Kheng Hua boosts the energy onstage with her every entrance as the
ghostly Elvira, handling the coy, amoral and mischievous character with
grace and aplomb. In total, it's a worthwhile night of entertainment
- just not the best the company's achieved.
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"There's an odd, off-centre je ne sais quoi about this staging:
our laughter falls out of rhythm on occasion; the humour feels uneven,
mismatched."
Credits
Director: Glen Goei
Playwright: Noel Coward
Set Designer: Adrian Linford
Lighting Designer: Mac Chan
Costume Designer: Moe Kassim
Hair Designer: Ashley Lim
Make-up Design: M.A.C
Make-up Artist: The Make-up Room
Producer: Tony Trickett
Production Manager: B B Koh
Production Co-ordinators: Yvonne Yuen, Greg Swyny
Technical manager: Teo Kuang Han
Stage Manager: Elnie Mashari
Assistant Stage Manager: Luke Kwek
Cast: Lim Kay Siu, Neo Swee Lin, Tan Kheng Hua, Selena Tan, Pam Oei,
Gerald Chew, Celine Rosa Tan
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