The Death of Singapore Theatre as Scripted by the Infocomm Media Development Authority of Singapore

by Alfian Sa'at
Wild Rice
Ngee Ann Kongsi Theatre, Singapore

Before any play can be performed in Singapore, it has to go through the Infocomm Media Development Authority (IMDA). It’s a process that playwright Alfian Sa'at likens to a “checkpoint”, where the script is scrutinized by its first audience member, a government officer who slaps a label upon it: General, Advisory, Advisory 16 or Restricted 18. What exactly are these officers looking for? How did we get here? That is what Alfian seeks to explore in this searing performance-lecture, directed by Irfan Kasban and performed by Farah Ong, which explores the history of theatre censorship in Singapore and how the state has sought to regulate the stage.

Originally commissioned by The Substation in 2022 and currently restaged by WILD RICE, Death of Singapore Theatre is an intimate, no-holds-barred conversation between a playwright and an imaginary IMDA officer who polices their work. Part history lesson, part confrontation and part roast, it’s equally witty and wistful. We learn how the current censorship rules have their roots in colonial laws and how political criteria gradually crept into the equation over the years. We examine the wording of the guidelines and see how vague the terms actually are – what is the difference between expletives that are “infrequent” and “not excessive”? We look at examples of ratings that have been imposed on plays and try to understand what exactly was deemed to be objectionable.

Unlike Alfian’s other documentary theatre work like Merdeka / 獨立 /சுதந்திரம் and Pulau Ujong which featured ensemble casts, the single character monologue format arguably makes this feel like more of a lecture than a performance, a TED Talk about censorship if you will. Yet, the very fact that it is presented as a play cannot be overstated – this very script was subject to the same process it seeks to interrogate (and given an Advisory 16 rating for coarse langauge and some mature content)! It’s a masterstroke of meta-theatre that will have insiders nodding furiously even as they laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation. Multiple times throughout the performance, potentially incendiary stage directions are flashed on the screen accompanied by the actor making a series of relatively tame hand gestures, perfectly illustrating how difficult it is to make a value judgment on a piece of written text without seeing the context in which is it performed.  

In the hands of Irfan, Alfian’s words feel like a gentle upbraiding rather than an impassioned diatribe. There’s plenty of anger here, but it is tinged with wry humour, confusion and, perhaps most movingly, a fragile sense of hope that we could collectively do better. Irfan coaxes an energetic, strident performance from Ong who saunters in with a briefcase and commands the stage for seventy-five charged minutes, reading off sheets of paper that she progressively scatters all around. There’s a simple, classroom-like charm to the storytelling through the use of blackboards and an overhead projector though this does not sit easily with an overwrought closing sequence that strives for spectacle.

A must watch for theatre lovers and a long-overdue wake-up call for the authorities to stop choking our voice on stage.

The Crystalwords score: 3/5