Come From Away
Pangdemonium
Victoria Theatre, Singapore
Sometimes the greatest tragedies can produce the greatest moments of human kindness. Come From Away, written and composed by Irene Sankoff and David Hein and presented by Pangdemonium as the company’s swan song, tells the extraordinary true story of the events following the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks. Due to US airspace being closed, 38 planes carrying some 7,000 passengers were diverted to Gander International Airport in the rugged Canadian province of Newfoundland. Over the next few days, the locals pulled out all the stops to make these frightened, anxious ‘come-from-aways’ feel at home in a time of deep uncertainty, donating food and clothes, opening up their homes and turning community spaces into shelters.
Sankoff and Hein have condensed hundreds of real-life interviews into a searing, bittersweet musical that gives us a sense of the mayhem during those days while allowing individual human stories to breathe. We witness moments of romance and prejudice, solidarity and sadness. People from completely different walks of life coming together in the face of a great disaster and simply being there for one another. Rather than focusing on the tragedy itself, it is the deep sense of humanity that ultimately shines through, making this a story that remains relevant even a quarter of a century later.
From rousing opening number ‘Welcome to the Rock’, the 100-minute musical moves with an energy that has one literally on the edge of one’s seats. Tim Koh, in a hugely impressive musical theatre directorial debut, is the undisputed captain of this enterprise, marshalling a talented ensemble of actors who effortlessly slip in and out of characters with a simple change of costume and props. Koh, who has demonstrated his skill in dense, wordy dramas like Doubt, Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf and A Doll's House, Part 2, is sensitive to pace and scale, keeping the audience invested throughout and balancing big, boisterous moments with quieter ones that tug at the heartstrings.
There is lovely work by Sheila Francisco as a devoted Gander matriarch who forms a friendship with a passenger anxious about her missing son back home, Inch Chua as a woman navigating an unexpected romance with a fellow passenger and Lim Yu-Beng as Gander's indefatigable mayor who promptly declares a state of emergency and orders the hockey rink to be converted into a walk-in refrigerator to manage food supplies. It would of course be remiss not to single out Rebekah Sangeetha Dorai who absolutely commands the stage as pioneering female pilot Beverly Bass with in solo 'Me and the Sky'.
 |
| Photo Credit: CRISPI |
Longtime collaborator Eucien Chia provides a handsome set that takes design cues from the actual Gander airport and gives us a malleable acting space that allows scenes to melt smoothly into each other. Central to the design aesthetic are twelve chairs that are used to conjure up everything from planes and buses to cafes and bars. Deft choreography by Andy Benjamin Cai makes the transitions feel effortless. Genevieve Peck's lighting, Jing Ng's sound and Leonard Augustine Choo's vibrant costumes round things off, creating a rousing sensory spectacle. My one niggle on the gala night performance was the sound quality which tended to compete with the music, making it difficult to hear some of the performers, a fact not helped by the variety of accents they were adopting.
I've had the privilege of seeing almost all the forty-odd productions in Pangdemonium's repertoire over the years (many of which have been reviewed on this blog). More than than any individual show, it is the legacy of their work that I will always fondly remember: introducing audiences to the very best of world theatre, launching the careers of so many talented actors and creatives and creating a safe space to discuss difficult topics.
Each production in Pangdemonium's finale season has, through design or not, quietly reminded us of this legacy. Force Majeure highlighted the precarious role of artists in a changing landscape and how they could so easily be at the mercy of institutions. The Mirror was a sobering nod to the spectre of state censorship that continues to plague the arts industry and the importance of being able to tell stories freely. And Come From Away, with its warm and life-affirming message, leaves us glowing from its wonderful celebration of community, something the company has so tirelessly sought to create over the past 16 years. This is the perfect ass-kicking send off.
Comments
Post a Comment