Take a bite out of SRT’s latest offering, but watch out for the piercing bits, recommends Edward Choy

The Singapore Repertory Theatre (SRT) is known for productions best described as ‘commercially sound’ – award-winning scripts, well-known cast members and mainstream appeal. A good example would be its musical Forbidden City, staged in 2002, 2003 and 2006, with a world tour planned for 2008. More recently, about 15,000 people watched SRT’s May production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and this was followed in July by a collaboration with the Royal Shakespeare Company to stage King Lear and The Seagull, both starring Sir Ian McKellen, with local audiences paying up to $400 apiece to watch the celebrated actor strut and fret his hour upon the stage. 

But on the poster for SRT’s next show in November, there is no famous face and no big name visible from 20 metres out. Instead, you see a limp hand and a bloodied green apple with a chunk missing. If you lean in real close, you find in tiny print the following words: ‘Once upon a time…will never be the same again.’ 

Just when you begin to wonder why you should even bother watching a show like this, the real reason you should scrutinise the poster up close is made clear when you inspect the image of the bloody apple. It was invisible from afar, but at close range it’s unmistakable. There’s something in it, something metallic. Something that looks like…a razor blade. Welcome to the warped world of Martin McDonagh’s The Pillowman. 

Set in a totalitarian state, the play is about a writer, Katurian, who’s arrested when bizarre crimes happen with distinct similarities to his grotesque fairy tales. Not giving too much away, the plot revolves around his interrogation and incarceration, and can only be described as a very dark comedy. Director Tracie Pang explains: ‘The audience will laugh because there are many parts that are really funny, but once they stop laughing they’re going to feel really uncomfortable that they laughed at something like that.’ 

But why are the folks at SRT departing from the winning – many would say predictable – formula? The fact is, they haven’t, really: the play has won, amongst others, an Olivier and a Tony award; it’s been staged to critical acclaim on Broadway and the West End; and in SRT’s staging, it features established actors Adrian Pang (Tracie’s husband), Michael Corbidge and Daniel Jenkins, and one relatively untested actor with mass appeal (Shane Mardjuki). It’s just that this time round, SRT wants to ‘test the waters’, as director Pang puts it. But, she adds, ‘I think there’ll be a group of people who aren’t ready for it.’ Which explains the advisory rating that restricts entry to those 16 years and under. 

Yet after hearing about the plot, we wondered if even older teenagers would be ready for the macabre and brutal themes explored in the play. ‘In other countries, 16-year-olds are exposed to far more brutal crime,’ Pang says. ‘We’re lucky we don’t have it here, but we can’t put our heads in the sand. Growing adults must be made aware that the wonderful society we live in shouldn’t become the play’s reality.’ 

If SRT wanted to address Singapore society, then why not stage a local work instead? Corbidge, himself a writer and mentor to young local playwrights, offered this point of view: ‘Most local writing still feels a bit insular; we tend to look at or explore ourselves and the politics and social issues of this island. But theatre here is still so young. You look at the West End, there are American and Indian playwrights there who write not only about English culture, but their own cultures as well. We’re yet to develop a Shakespeare, with universal and timeless themes.’ On this issue of Singapore lacking its own canonical bard figures, he adds: ‘You can only grow through having your plays produced, but it is still important to learn from others.’ 

Corbidge practises what he preaches. ‘Award-winning plays tend to be universal,’ he says, so he makes it a point to travel every one or two years to New York or London to watch critically acclaimed productions, and to find out what’s considered the cutting-edge of theatre abroad. His conclusion? ‘It’s nice to know that Singapore theatre is up there with the best,’ he says. He cites the example of local director Natalie Hennedige, whom he considers good enough for the world stage based on her work with Singapore’s Cake Theatre. Yet Pang is of the opinion Singaporeans still believe the grass is greener on the Western side: ‘There seems to be this obsession that West is still best, but [Singaporeans] don’t go there to see it for themselves,’ she says. 

It’s ironic, then, that a Western play will serve as SRT’s litmus test to gauge whether its local Asian audience is ready for edgier, more challenging work. Despite its origin, Pang’s hoping this play will reach an untapped audience. According to her, the demographic for theatre-goers in Singapore is dominated by those in their thirties and forties. ‘We want to bring something fresh that will also appeal to those in their twenties, who aren’t so keen on theatre,’ she says. ‘People here read stuff that’s very warped – Singaporeans love horror.’ 

But will Singaporeans love SRT’s offering of dark comedy, too? There’s a chance they will. Even though The Pillowman pushes the envelope in terms of content, it’s not that much of a departure from SRT’s formula of presenting established plays with top actors. So even though they’re, as Pang says, testing the waters with this production, they’re not really sending the boat that far out from shore. If the formula floats, however, expect edgier works to come from SRT’s corner. And that’s really no surprise. 

The Pillowman keeps you in suspense from 9-25 Nov. See here for more information.