Noor Effendy
Ibrahim's Bilik Ahmad is an exploration of language,
sexual power and violence within the local Malay context. Set in a minimalist
interior with enigmatic characters whose fragmented but polite exchanges
barely conceal the shady, ironic subtext, this Pinteresque play is original
and compelling in its interrogation of the darker aspects of our social
condition. While the piquantly equivocal lines and stark aesthetics
employed were effective in bringing out the play's concerns in
a subtle but engaging manner, it is unfortunate that the play had to
suffer from some acting inconsistencies that hampered a fuller enjoyment
of the play.
It is worth noting that the play is Noor Effendy's reworking of what
were originally two different but thematically and stylistically tied
plays into two acts of a single play. This might initially seem like
a natural thing to do, but having read the script of the original performaces
before, this ostensible integration is found to be hardly more than
mere felicitous juxtaposition. Disappointingly, neither thematic nor
textual links between the original plays, although admittedly substantial
in the first place, were significantly reinforced, leaving one wondering
what exactly was reworked. True, both acts were performed in the same
theatre by the same actors (but in different clothes and as different
characters), and some portion of the second act, Ahmad, was
spent talking about what happened in the first, but there seems little
else that justifies calling the two plays anything more than a doublebill.
This might sound like petty quibble about the claim that the plays were
"reworked", but when considering also the unequal performance between
the acts and their varying levels of artistic success, their disparity
is salient.
Bilik, the first act, starts out promisingly but the initially
sensitive performance of the actors peters out into a somewhat clumsy
articulation of all-hell-breaks-loose. As the play opens, the audience
is quickly thrust from a commonplace setting into an absurdly macabre
one as we find out that the main characters are a bunch of mass murderers
comparing their homicidal exploits through unsettlingly deferential
language. Here, the actors shine in their fine rendering of an ironic
suppressed violence, the mode by which power relations within the gang's
hierarchy are subtly negotiated and challenged by its members.
However, when a female captive is later introduced, the gang's
artful hypocrisy is thrown into disarray as underlying tensions break
out and, as if unable to handle the chaotic narrative turn, the performance
too fizzles out. Although it was already clear that some of the actors
were more experienced than the others, the play's turning to focus
on the characters played by the weaker actors now made the contrast
all the more stark, as we saw more awkward acting and line deliveries
that did not do justice to the lines themselves. In the end, what could
have been a forceful conclusion turned out unsatisfyingly flat.
Acting was better and of a more consistent quality in Ahmad
as the more experienced actors were given more lines, resulting in a
tighter performance overall. This second act also brought out similar
themes as the first but, in this reviewer's opinion, more artfully.
This was done by maintaining the surface appearance of playful but polite
exchanges while subtle but significant underlying changes took place.
If Bilik was about a feminine disruption of a hermetic masculine
system that leads to all round chaos, Ahmad was about that
feminine element's ability to sometimes also insinuate itself into such
a system and manipulate and control it.
The story is, like Bilik, almost farcical. Five characters,
all named Ahmad, live together feeding each other bananas until the
intrusion of a neighbour, Dahlia, furtively alters their relations to
each other as they are seduced by her alluring but subversive presence.
More clearly than Bilik then, this act brings out the double-edged
dynamics of gender and sexual power as mediated through the repressive
enforced sycophancy of the Malay language that varnishes over conflicts
and tensions to keep up the façade of polite civility.
One problem this reviewer had with Ahmad though, was the decision
to cast a woman, Gloria Tan, as one of the Ahmads. Even if this were,
as could be plausibly posited, simply a strategic casting decision to
avoid the presumably conservative audience's disapproval over physical
sexual teasing between actors of different sexes on stage (despite the
NC16 rating), it still weakened a reading of the play as depicting a
social destabilisation caused by a sexually foreign element. However,
if it were an attempt to complicate such a reading by introducing a
queer dimension to the play, it would be a very half-hearted one at
best. Either way, Ahmad's artistic coherence would have benefited
from more judicious casting.
On the other hand, Tan's Hokkien-speaking ability was put to good use
in Bilik by having her character speak only in Hokkien, a language
with a reputation for uncompromising candour. This linguistic disassociation
contrasted her position as an outsider who wasn't subordinate to the
obsequious demands of the Malay language, with those of the other Malay-speaking
characters who were, thus strengthening the social commentary on the
Malay language's influence on social custom. The casting of Tan in the
play then, like the gender dynamics the play sought to investigate,
was double-edged.
Ultimately, it is this sort of ambivalence too that characterizes this
review of the play. Although the performance was choppy and direction
less than impressive, Bilik Ahmad was still a uniquely provocative
and fascinating play, by turns humorous, disturbing and challenging.
It is one of its kind, especially within Malay theatre in Singapore,
and perhaps it is this boldness that edges over its shortcomings to
finally redeem it.
Jabir is a Singaporean studying in a liberal arts college in Minnesota,
USA. He is mainly preoccupied with reading and thinking but sometimes
this compels him to write. This is his first review of a play.
Kenneth Kwok's First Impression (****)
Bilik and Ahmad are two plays by playwright-director
Noor Effendy Ibrahim which were developed back in the 1990s but are
being presented in 2008 as a double-bill after being reworked by Effendy
and the cast. Both present an alternate reality but whereas Bilik's
is a dark and disturbing dystopia of mistrust and violence, Ahmad's
is humourously surreal. Each play impressed on its own terms but their
contrasting tones also worked well together to create an extremely satisfying
evening. The plays shared a common theme of exploring how we interact
with people in different ways - when we are threatened, when we are
faced with the uncertain - but the focus of the first play for me was
the tightly wound narrative and how skillfully Effendy (supported by
excellent work from lighting designer Anuar Mohd) ratcheted up the tension
and suspense to its climatic ending, and for the second, it was the
simple pleasure of watching a playfully absurd comedy beautifully executed:
I especially liked how Ahmad always skirted tantalizingly on
the edge of great profundity without ever quite stepping onto the line.
The ensemble cast performed impeccably for both plays, never once slipping,
whether in acts of cruelty and perversity in Bilik or while
delivering saucy double entendres dripping in sexual innuendo in Ahmad.
The intimate and low-key Bilik Ahmad turned out to be one of
the most vivid and memorable pieces of theatre I've seen in 2008.
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"Bilik Ahmad was a uniquely provocative and fascinating
play, by turns humorous, disturbing and challenging"
Credits
Producer: Anuar Mohd
Playwright, Director, Production Designer: Noor Effendy
Ibrahim
Production Manager: Jamal Mohamad
Production Stage Manager: Fezhah Maznan
Assistant Stage Manager: Raimi Liandi
Technical Manager: Rosdi Subdi
Assistant Technical Manager: Sharizal Abdul Hamid
Lighting Designer: Anuar Mohd
Wardrobe Mistress: Umi Kalthum Bte Ismail
Surtitle Operator: Nurul Shaza Bte Mohd Ishak
Crew: The Substation
Cast: Mish'aal Bin Syed Nasar, Saiful Amri Ahmad
Elahi, M Saffri A. Manaf, Gloria Tan, M. Rohaizad Suaidi and Siti Khalijah
Zainal
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