Actor Forty

I fell in love with theatre again.

I want every person I know to watch this play.

I saw Edith wipe her eyes after it all.
She doesnt understand Chinese.

So much happened. I laughed, I cried, then I laughed some more.

I began not catching much of the chinses: I guess I wasn't sure if I would understand. But the switching from surtitle screen to performer was far too tedious.
So I forced myself to listen, going against every Fibre of body, every bad experience I have had with Chinese.

But I eventually understood. I understood maybe... 85% of what she said. I checked the screens for the rest.
But I understood her because... I still am Chinese.  And I learnt Chinese... once. And I am grateful and jealous at the same time, for being able to be part of that culture - but then again, I felt so much like Edith and the Indian boy next to me.

I wanted to laugh only after her joke, but I would have caught a glimpse of the screen before, and the Indian boy and I  would have shared in laughter, before the rest of the crowd.


2 things.
The tiger door, and her costume changes.
3 things.
The two extras too. Blankest of expressions, most stoic of poker faces. They contributed so much laughter, and oomph.

The tiger door.
She told of this practice they had in China, of actors who had to pass through an imaginary door before coming onto stage. Passage through that door would mean them fully embodying the character; they were no longer themselves. They were transformed.

Before the play began, we caught a glimpse of her, warming up for her performances within a performance within a performance. She wore a Hoodie and did breathing exercises. I continued reading the program booklet. Then the house lights faded and a spotlight appeared on her. She had changed into a red dress. She stood by the side of the two extras, motionless and expressionless. Nobody moved. Announcements were made, thanking sponsors and wishing the audience a happy new year.
A cold silence hung on the crowd,
Then she took a step forward,
"Through the tiger door"
And it began.

Costume changes.
The MOST amount of costume changes I've witnessed. There were too many to count... okay maybe 20? 30 maybe? It felt like 30.
From red to green, traditional to modern, every outfit was fitted onto her. She was in a chicken-like costume at one point playing a superhero character for a kid's TV program.
Yes.
.
Yes.

Her versatility shown through all the technical difficulties and language barriers- she came across as a true talent, SEA polyglot extraordinaire. Transitioning from mandarin, to a Malaysian variant of mandarin, to Cantonese and hokkien, and even Malay. And her English was GOOD.

What is this woman?!?
these stupid bilinguals. Especially pornsak. Damn them!!!


.
This was the best play I've seen in quite some time - yet this praise doesn't really matter because I tend to feel this way after each new play I watch.
But this was something special... I struggle to find some deeper meaning that resonates with me, but I appreciate it a whole lot nonetheless.

Abortion, feminism, modern relationships, motherhood, race, etc. It touched on so much.

Yet I will probably only remember Yeo Yann Yann looking deep into the crowd as she takes her first step to begin the play.