Escape Theatre's
production of Death and the Maiden packed a punch with its
dark atmosphere of suspense tinged with a heavy undercurrent of violence.
The gloomy set, surrealistic lighting and bass-heavy music provided
the perfect backdrop for Ariel Dorfman's psychological thriller about
a woman, Paulina Escobar (Karen Tan), who meets someone whom she thinks
is the man who tortured her 15 years ago under the past military dictatorship
of Chilean leader Augusto Pinochet.
The dark, claustrophobic set, which comprised the living and dining
rooms of the Escobar beach house, destabilised the security of the domestic
setting from the start. This atmosphere enhanced the sense of unease
which accompanied the entry of the alleged torturer, doctor Roberto
(Dan Jenkins) into the acquaintance of Paulina's husband Gerardo (Lim
Yu-Beng) early on in the play. This unsettling atmosphere continued
as Paulina's suspicions about Roberto grew and her unresolved issues
with her past manifested themselves in her diabolical scheme to even
the score with her abuser. That is, when Paulina decided to stage a
private trial for Roberto and pass her own judgment on his deserved
punishment.
Karen Tan was the core of the play with her chilling portrayal of an
angry victim bent on vengeance. Much of the dramatic tension had to
do with the unstable twists and turns of Paulina's mind, which Tan milked
for all their worth. She adeptly alternated between the two extremes
of cool rationality and crazed energy, believably rendering Paulina's
transformation from victim to oppressor. The ominous change in Tan's
character - marked by her late-night visit to Roberto's bedroom to knock
him out and tie him to a chair in preparation for his trial - was given
a nightmarish, surreal turn with the innovative use of music, light
and shadow.
The production, however, sagged after this point. The tense atmosphere
created by Tan diffused as she engaged in a long negotiation with her
husband about the right way to handle the situation. Director Samantha
Scott-Blackhall also carelessly allowed Lim to relax too quickly and
too much after Tan - angry and armed - fired a shotgun to prove her
determination to impose her own judgment upon Roberto. While clearly
worried about the moral misguidedness of his wife, Lim did not seem
bothered enough to want to physically wrest any form of control from
her.
The lull in energy was also due to the poor chemistry between Tan and
Lim, the latter of whom was too understated for the harrowing highs
that Tan had established as the emotional pitch of Death. The
morally charged themes of Dorfman's script (guilt, forgiveness and justice
in the context of a flawed political system) suffered as a result. In
Lim's hands, Gerardo's symbolic role as moral arbiter fell short of
the intensity that Tan poured into Paulina's role of the victim/oppressor.
With only a weak counterpoint to balance Paulina's extremes, Tan's
character suffered from an ensuing woodenness. Tan's Paulina, also prone
to occasional awkward bursts of black humour which failed to work, became
a monstrous villain, an unsympathetic character. And although Jenkins
skilfully maneuvered a perfectly ambivalent Roberto - leaving the audience
guessing as to his true intentions - his spirited performance was limited
to simply doing that. Death thus scored its points only as
a psychological guessing game. As a piece of theatre, it had a long
way more to go to make a lasting impact on its audiences. |
"The dark, claustrophobic set, which comprised the living and dining
rooms of the Escobar beach house, destabilised the security of the domestic
setting from the start"
Credits
Cast: Karen Tan, Lim Yu-Beng and Dan Jenkins
Producer: Mark Waite
Director: Samantha Scott-Blackhall
Set: Nicholas Li Hao Min
Lighting: Suven Chan
Sound: Darren Ng
Costume: Anthony Tan
Hair: Ashley Lim
Stage Management: Ting Hock Hoe
Asst Stage Management: Toh Lin
Sound Operator: David Lim
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