Lao
Jiu, The Musical was many wonderful things - original,
fun, artistically exciting and authentic - but I would describe it
primarily as a modern Singaporean folktale. It is by this description
that the broad, colourful brushstrokes of Lao Jiu's
characters, and the play's leanings
towards the extremes of good versus evil, come alive without veering
into the realm of cliché. It is also by this description that
the story of one man's conflict between individual free will
and family duty takes on broader significance - to make a grander
statement that is at once personal and universal.
This being my first viewing of Lao Jiu, I was struck by how
its simple construct nimbly grasped the nobility of everyday persons
and created a vivid, lasting impression of their humanity. The play
also employed themes no more sophisticated than those of duty and freedom
to stir the hidden dreams within the hearts of audiences. It is no
surprise that, 15 years after its first appearance at the 1990 Singapore
Arts Festival, Lao Jiu has not only staked a claim as a legend of Singaporean
theatre, but is still inspiring practitioners to stage various incarnations
and adaptations.
"Lao Jiu" refers to the nickname of the ninth-born child
and only son of the Chng family (who actually use the dialect endearment "Gao
Gia'ng" rather than the Mandarin term). Lao Jiu's
parents belong to that generation of Singaporeans whose determination
to bear a son perhaps spawned the "stop at two" policy.
In any case, Lao Jiu is the darling of his family not only because
he is the long-awaited youngest son, but also for his natural endowments
of intelligence and obedience. These qualities put Lao Jiu in good
stead to be in the running for a prestigious War Horse scholarship,
which bears the promise of success, wealth and glory - qualities
befitting a classic Chinese hero. However, in a turn of events that
is more befitting of Western Romantic heroes, Lao Jiu begins to feel
overly cloistered by the loving dictatorship of his large family, and
rejects his planned path as a scholar-leader. To his parents' despair,
Lao Jiu decides to pursue an apprenticeship as a puppeteer, dramatically
running off to the woods to find the artist within him, thus abandoning
his examination to compete for the scholarship.
Set in newly-developed Singapore where the days of clan associations
ruling the streets are recent memories, Lao Jiu's characters
(Lao Jiu's parents, eight older sisters and their husbands/fiancés)
see the need to institute progress, but are rooted in the traditional
way of thinking, be it through their superstition or their belief in
a predestined future. Their studied lack of ambition, coupled with
their high hopes for Lao Jiu, reflect an ordered social hierarchy where
the lower classes "know their place in life" and naturally
look up to anyone wealthier or cleverer. Lao Jiu's sisters pile
on the pressure to perform, by singing of their high hopes for him,
reinforcing the notion that he is destined for higher things.
These good-hearted, traditional characters are painted in stark contrast
to the successful but slimy "Senior Horse" (Jonathan Lim),
the administrator of the War Horse scholarship, whose pompousness suggests
a morally vacuous modernity.
Lao Jiu, young and confused, is caught between both worlds. He studies
Pythagoras, physics and Shakespeare, but compares himself to the Monkey
God and Ne Zha. But, more than anything, Lao Jiu is a young man growing
up who wants to discover who he is. The East-West potpourri is taken
further when we explore Lao Jiu's choice to pursue art instead
of higher learning. His puppeteer Master (Lim Kay Siu), initially reluctant
to be part of Lao Jiu's abandonment of riches and glory, scolds
Lao Jiu for being short-sighted in his career choice. He says that,
by choosing the path of the Monkey God - a carefree and mischievous
creature - over that of the serious and noble scholar Lan Tian
Yu, Lao Jiu chooses a destiny that will not transcend "the Buddha's
palm".
While the collective social respect for higher learning as a means
to achieving spiritual enlightenment draws from a Confucian tradition,
Lao Jiu ultimately endorses the Western idea of abandoning rationality
for the dangerous unknown of dreams. But, just as one can identify
the relevance of this East meets West compendium to the Singaporean
experience, so can one read Lao Jiu's troubles as a larger representation
of anyone growing up who eventually comes to the crossroads of stability
or freedom.
As a dramatic production, Lao Jiu was amazingly original and
aesthetically cohesive. Every movement, inflection, set change, use
of song and puppets contributed to the revelation and development of
themes and plot. The puppets, for instance, were used in various
ways. As visual representation, they brought to life Lan Tian Yu, Alexander
the Great and Napoleon, to name some of the heroes which Lao Jiu referenced.
The use of shadow play also provided effective narration for the flashback
storytelling of the Chngs' family life. As metaphor, Lao Jiu
laments that he feels like a puppet who has been controlled by someone
else his entire life. Puppetry is also a metaphor for art - one
which allows you to "hold the whole universe in your hands",
but which does not fill one's tummy. What is unsaid, because
Lao Jiu does not even know it himself, is that art can lead one to
self-discovery and the awareness of one's identity.
The strength of the cast also contributed to the solid fundamentals
of Lao Jiu. Johnny Goh (Father) and Goh Guat Kian (Mother), by far
the best actors of the production, peppered their Mandarin dialect
dialogue with nuanced inflections, infusing their warm displays
of love for Lao Jiu with the harder pathos of their own lives. The
final image of Mr and Mrs Chng looking down at Lao Jiu, their faces
full of betrayal, was reminiscent of a Greek melodrama where the Gods
cast a foolish young god out of Heaven.
The pacing was refreshingly natural, despite the potential for awkward
gaps in the dialogue-plus-song structure. Tension and lightness flowed
and ebbed as naturally as breathing, gripping the audience throughout.
The songs themselves were dramatically effective, although the quality
of the singing left something to be desired.
At times, the songs about Lao Jiu's mindscape during his hours
of studying for the scholarship exams were a little meandering, although
they were frenetic and confused, reflecting Lao Jiu's state
of mind. Although he did very well overall, with a nuanced portrait
of the conflicted young man, actor Liu Xiaoyi could have added a pinch
of gravitas to Lao Jiu's transformation from child to man.
As for Lao Jiu's transformation from a play to a musical, perhaps
the substitution of contemporary music and lyrics for some of its dialogue
had smoothed over the more complex layers that the original version might
have explored. Nonetheless, the strength of the original play allowed
for a successful adaptation, and the use of music enlivened the play's
structure, imbuing it with a joyful sense of family love, creative
playfulness, and dreams. Lao Jiu: The Musical has earned its place
in the celebrated theatrical history of its progenitor, Lao
Jiu the
play. |
"Lao Jiu, young and confused, is caught between both worlds. He
studies Pythagoras, physics and Shakespeare, but compares himself to
the Monkey God and Ne Zha. But, more than anything, Lao Jiu is a young
man growing up who wants to discover who he is"
Credits
Original Play: Kuo Pao Kun
Artistic Director: Goh
Lay Kuan
Music: Jonathan Price
Lyrics: Xiao Han, Wu Xi and Yang
Qian
Adaptation: Wu Xi and Zhang Xian
Director: Kuo Jian
Hong
Music Orchestration: Jonathan Price
Vocal Direction:
Lim Shieh Yih
Music Direction: Belinda Foo
Set Design: Lim Wei
Ling
Costume Design: Paul Warren
Lighting Design: Lea Xiao
Hair and Make-up Design:
Sunny Chan
Choreography : Kuo Jing Hong
Puppetry Design: Tan
Beng Tian and Rene Ong
Actors: Liu Xiaoyi, Johnny Ng, Goh Guat Kian, Lim
Kay Siu, Tan Beng Chiak, Peter Wee, Koh Wan Ching, Kay Foong, Celine
Rosa Tan, Ace Chew, Judy Ngo, Andrew Lua Dai Jun, Jasmine Koh, Goh
Hoe Chin, Catherine Wong, Lim Aik Meng, Mindee Ong, Justin Kan, Magdalene
See, Paerin Choa, Jonathan Lim, Oliver Chong, Trey Ho, Alvin Chiam,
Jalyn Han, Catherine Wong, Zara Tania Chen Weiyan, Zesa Tania Chen
Xinyan, Zoea Tania Chen Jinyan and Tan Jia Ning
Ensemble: Chee Kai Wei, Kenrick Chong,
Wee Yong Xuan and Quek Zhong Yi
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