Image from the Straits TimesI was looking forward to Sing Dollar! the musical, I really was. I didn't do much research on it, I mean, being locally produced and cast with our familiar slew of local theatre icons -- the standup comedian Hossan Leong, the efferverscent Dimsum Dollies and who can ignore the smack-talking bonafide drag-queen Kumar -- what's a person to think but wowee! Sure win one!
You can well imagine my abject dismay as the first hour gave way to a much-welcomed intermission, which was heralded by a wincing song and dance routine with Najip Ali in his drag-Malay-cleaner get-up doing a "spirit possession" while the rest of the cast pranced about doing vocal battle with the embittered orchestra in the background. It was pure chaos and left me grimacing in bewilderment.
Don't get me started on the plot. In the beginning, it promised to give me a run for my money, with its premise of Singaporeans' obsession with money and the backdrop of global financial collapse. But like every delectable looking dessert on the menu that turns out to be all calories and completely overrated, I found myself becoming increasingly let down by the turn of events. The musical started with a bang, shimmering costumes, startlingly funny Singlish and the like. To give credit where it's due, the set was marvellous and you couldn't fault the digital LCD backdrops or the hydraulics so pivotal to a smooth transition of sets like the ubiquitous neighbourhood coffee shop and the dodgy hotel room in Hotel 82. But the local lingo could only take it so far (even with the translation on the digital screens) before the forgettable tunes simply reminded you of the juvenile jingles you used to write in high school.
Picture this: an unidentified john dies in a cheap hotel room in Geylang; an overly-emotional, headscarf-wearing cleaner stumbles upon the body; the rest of the local inhabitants appear -- a Chinese prostitute (from China), Beng Huat the un-entrpreneuring Beef Hor Fun stall-keeper, his ill-gotten Bangladeshi worker (played by a convincing Kumar in no drag) in love with Pamela Oei's Filipina domestic worker who moonlights as a prostitute, his slick yet guilt-ridden banker brother (Hossan Leong in his most squeaky role yet) and unglamourous Tiger Beer lady played by Selina Tan who, of the entire cast, probably made the most of her flabby, grammatically-challenged character. A half million dollars in a trashbag falls from the ceiling, sending each character into a frenzy of personal greed, dilemma, guilt and moral flip-flopping. Just as you start expecting things to get interesting -- why half a million bucks and why in a trashbag; what depths in each character will be revealed; who is the dead john and why did he die; why is Kumar addressing the audience whenever he has a line -- instead you get a slew of inoriginal jokes about the sex trade and stereotypical national characterizations of migrant blue-collar workers.
I was underwhelmed beyond measure. You would expect Selina Tan with her experience in stage and standup comedy to come up with something that holds more water than a shallow cup of two dimensional caricatures (guilty Malay cleaner with heart of gold, mercenary Chinese hooker who is moved by the uninspiring and unexplained adoration of Beng Huat, the maternal and genuinely caring yet nationalistic Filipina maid/part-time prostitute in love with the Bangla dishwasher....I cannot go on). What's worse, the morality tale of emotional and family ties triumphing over greed and materialism fizzled out sometime after the second act. The entire storyline seemed to have collapsed like a broken shower rail under the rather tiresome tunes that blared through every scene. I didn't get it!
The anticlimactic end to the whole obsession-with-the-stolen-money-cum-feel-good-morality-tale storyline left so much to be desired I almost demanded a refund, particularly when the cast stuck around on stage (after the perfunctory applause ended) to promote their upcoming performances. One can only wonder how much self-congratulatory smugness people should be allowed after delivering mediocrity in a Sunday matinee.
Wait a minute you say, am I being overly critical? Truth be told, I was dumbfounded and more than a little embarrassed that I had asked Francois and Daniel to watch it with me (this would have been their first local musical). Foreigners would trip over some of the local jargon, but even I was stumped by the Malay and Hokkien songs which no doubt gave the whole thing a very multicultural feel but which in fact evoked more confusion than appreciation in the audience. Some familiarity with Indian, Chinese and Malay performance culture was necessary to comprehend the musical routines. It was just mediocre, and this is even more unforgiveable because I have come to expect a lot more from local theatre.
5 years ago I watched Selina Tan and Hossan Leong ham it up with their madcap jingles making fun of idiosyncratic politics and idiotic Singaporeans. After 5 years of plays and musicals and stand-up comedy, I expected a LOT more than what they delivered in Sing Dollar. I am no theatre buff or expert on the arts, but I can safely say that this did not begin to touch the standards of a world class act. Much more's the pity, because the plot and the premise could have been.
Same spaced out look minus the chubbs.
The curtains finally in
Our bathroom before
3 weeks later, holes drilled, shelf mounted, plant in
Before
9.40 am China
and scenes like this aplenty and humourous...
...Dan and I wrote Rob a message (after our very silly video)
