Force Majeure
by Stephanie Street
inspired by Anton Chekhov's Three Sisters
Pangdemonium
Victoria Theatre, Singapore
inspired by Anton Chekhov's Three Sisters
Pangdemonium
Victoria Theatre, Singapore
It's been nine years since Pangdemonium collaborated with playwright Stephanie Street on Dragonflies, a powerful tale of displacement in the face of an uncertain, fractious world. Street unpacks similar themes in this sumptuous, layered take on Chekhov's Three Sisters, relocating the action from provincial Russia to modern day Southeast Asia. It makes a terrific start to the company's final season.
Street is largely faithful to Chekhov's original plot but removes the military background, refashioning her characters as a worldly, eclectic group of artists. Crucially, she gives us a new prologue which expands her thematic focus, introducing patriarch John (Ebi Shankara), an eminent painter who decides to move back to Southeast Asia with his family after years in Europe to take advantage of money that is now pouring into the local arts ecosystem. After his untimely death at a gallery opening, his four children struggle to get on with their lives, all the while hankering to return to Europe, a dream that grows ever more tenuous as the years inexorably march on.
Eldest sister Leah (Selma Alkaff), is a former actress who now works as a teacher, trading passion for practicality. Middle sister Mary (Inch Chua), a musician trapped in a loveless marriage to tedious academic Ken (Benjamin Chow), finds herself drawn to the charismatic Vic, the newly-arrived director of an arts centre. Youngest sister Irene (Rebecca Ashley Dass) dreams of moving back to Europe to find artistic fulfilment and love but ultimately settles for bumbling writer Theo. Alongside the titular sisters is their brother Andrew (Benjamin Kheng), a once-successful musician who becomes mired in a pit of domesticity and inaction after marrying the domineering Nat (Sharda Harrison).
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| Photo Credit: Crispian Chan |
Each of these characters is deeply unhappy and the tragedy of the play is that they can never seem to break out of the crippling ennui that slowly engulfs them. Happiness, even when it presents itself, is revealed to be but fleeting. Street's adaptation also opens up powerful discussions about the role of artists in society and how their lives are cruelly fashioned by budget cuts and bureaucrats. As its title suggests, a central theme in Force Majeure is how human lives are at the mercy of events beyond their control. A successful arts centre can close down and get turned into a commercial development at the drop of a hat. The floods that cause widespread destruction and homelessness in the city hint at the ever-pernicious threat of climate change and how even the physical environment we live in may no longer be safe.
Is returning to Europe necessarily the answer for these siblings, who, to all intents and purposes, lead fairly privileged lives? It's certainly not the glittering metropolis that Moscow stood for in Chekhov's original. There's a lot of bleakness to this story but what we are ultimately left with, not unlike Dragonflies, is an image of human resilience, the quiet will to keep moving on and to face another day. The sisters may be thwarted in both love and opportunities but at least they have each other for support.
Director Tracie Pang coaxes delicate, nuanced performances from her cast and keeps the pacing taut despite the play's wordy, four-act structure. There is an evident attempt to economise on the cast by having actors double up in roles and, while this mostly works, it occasionally proves confusing for audiences. Standout turns include Selma Alkaff as the sensible, maternal Leah and Ebi Shankara in a dual role as commanding patriarch and garrulous uncle. Singer-songwriters Inch Chua and Benjamin Kheng also beautifully lean into their musical talents as part of their characters, delivering a stunning opening number.
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| Photo Credit: Crispian Chan |
Eucien Chia's set is a bohemian parlour that is as much living room as studio, a space where past and present, life and art, lovingly coalesce. It is dominated by three towers, crammed with ornate antiques and each bearing one of the paintings from the late patriarch's triptych unveiled in the prologue. These beautiful, haunting images, depicting each sister suspended in water, grow more aged and worn as the play progresses. This is complemented by Jing Ng's soundscapes and James Tan's lighting design, creating a rich, multi-sensory canvas that immerses us into the world of these characters.
Even while watching this play about artists, Pang never allows us to forget that what we are watching is itself a living, breathing work of art. The wings of the stage are deliberately exposed and we see the actors at all times, changing between scenes and handing one another props. We see percussionist Marc Monteiro (who has a few cameos) play music and witness actors create live sound effects throughout the play. It reminds us that while we mourn the dashed hopes and disappointments of one group of artist-characters, another group of artist-actors stand before us in the flesh—still fighting the good fight and daring to dream.
The Crystalwords score: 4/5






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