Accidental Death of an Activist

by Dario Fo and Franco Rame
adapted by Jo Kukathas
Wild Rice
Ngee Ann Kongsi Theatre, Singapore

Farce. That most deliciously irreverent of art forms. Boisterous. Over-the-top. Riotously funny. Add in a slice of political satire and one has a winning combination. Accidental Death of an Anarchist by Italian playwrights Dario Fo and Franca Rame is certainly a great example. It was written in response to the mysterious death of a man called Giuseppe Pinelli in 1969 when he fell from the fourth floor of a Milan police station over the course of an interrogation for his involvement in a major bombing. Did he jump on his own accord or was there foul play involved?

This new Wild Rice version, adapted by veteran Malaysian theatre maker Jo Kukathas and co-directed by Kukathas and Glen Goei, retains the original Italian setting and character names but takes a lot of liberties with the text, updating it to embrace modern technology and local references. Most significantly, the "anarchist" in the original title has been changed to "activist" here, a word which may feel less powerful but resonates far more strongly in a Singaporean context where any attempt to speak out against the prevailing authorities and campaign for change is frowned upon. It's funny, provocative and bursting with ideas but one rather wishes it had not been quite so heavy-handed. 

Due to licensing issues, the first two preview performances of the show were cancelled. I wonder if this had resulted in a rather unnecessary prologue where the characters amble onstage and take turns to introduce themselves and the roles they will be playing. One solemnly carries a placard stating that any resemblance to Singaporeans living or dead is entirely coincidental. Surely as an audience member, one can draw one's own inferences instead of being goaded what to think?

Photo Credit: Wild Rice, Ruey Loon

The core story of Death is broadly similar, involving a wily and quick-witted Madman (Ghafir Akbar) who is being questioned by the police for minor crimes. He grabs the opportunity  to impersonate a series of characters, including a judge and a forensic expert, in a bid to uncover the mysterious death of an activist at the station, revealed in this version to be a person who had been campaigning against the death penalty. It soon becomes obvious that the police officers Bertozzo (Siti Khalijah Jainal), Pisani (Sugie Phua) and their Superintendent (Lim Kay Siu) had in fact been responsible for the death, something that a hard-nosed journalist who arrives at the scene, Feletti (Munah Bagharib), also uncovers. Will justice prevail? 

The production is buoyed by a fantastic ensemble cast who keep the audience enthralled with their side-splitting antics. There is great work by Siti, Phua and Lim as a trio of bumbling bureaucrats but no one deserves more praise than the indefatigable Ghafir, last seen in the lead role in SRT's Disgraced. He turns in a performance that's almost breathless in intensity and range, cycling through one character after the next and keeping the audience eating out of his hands. Kukathas and Goei keep the action flowing, drawing out the comedy through numerous nudge-wink references to local culture including the liberal use of Malay and Chinese dialogue amongst its multi-racial cast. It plays out rather like a pantomime and Wong Chee Wai's richly detailed Italian police station set, lit by Alberta Wileo, provides a nice backdrop although the length of the play starts to show in the plodding second half. 

Photo Credit: Wild Rice, Ruey Loon

The ending is where a major intervention has been made to the original text. The decision on whether to detonate a bomb and kill the corrupt officers is given to the hitherto largely silent Constable (Krish Natarajan) rather than Feletti. Rather than presenting the audience with two possible scenarios and leaving things open-ended, we are treated to an outburst from Natarajan (now playing himself) that quite literally stops the play: we are Singaporeans who do not like making decisions. Suddenly all pretence about this show not having a resemblance to reality falls to the floor and in a closing sequence, the actors strip to red T-shirts with a smiley face, an unmistakable reference to human rights activist Jolovan Wham who was jailed for unlawful assembly when he stood alone outside a police station, holding up a placard with a similar image. 

There's no doubt where the politics of this production lies and its urgent message about standing up for what's right and challenging the status quo. However, one would hope for a little bit of nuance instead of a message that feels so overt, it feels like one is being screamed at. Yes, there's a lot that can be improved about the decisions that are made in this country but there are perhaps more subtle ways to say this.  

The Crystalwords score: 3/5