I knew I
wanted to watch The Silence of the Kittens the moment I saw
the publicity for it. The whole issue of cat culling a few years ago
was something that had really upset me, especially when you consider
that I have two cats at home that I had taken in as strays. I was interested
to see how this topic would be explored as a play and was particularly
intrigued by references in the publicity that there would be satirical
and political undertones to the work.
Ultimately, Kittens proved to be amiable enough for this cat-lover,
even if it was not exactly inspired.
The central narrative is of a young girl who wants to keep a cat she
has found while her father, a Minister, is, ironically, advocating the
culling of such stray animals. Fundamental to the play's success was
its clever central conceit: the harsh culling of stray cats as a metaphor
for how Singapore as a country lacks tolerance when dealing with any
element of society that doesn't fit into our idealised vision for our
country or which is considered improper, dirty or unclean. Playwright
Ovidia Yu's choice of cats to represent the outsiders or "strays"
of society works well because of the fierce independence and strong
will both are associated with when romanticised. Her celebration of
these qualities reminded me of the scene in the film Meet The Parents
where Robert de Niro's character contrasts cats with dogs:
"[A dog is an] emotionally shallow animal... when you yell at
a dog, his tail will go between his legs and cover his genitals, his
ears will go down. A dog is very easy to break, but cats make you
work for their affection. They don't sell out the way dogs do."
At the same time, Yu also tended to oversell her metaphors and in spelling
everything out for the audience, she often blunted the otherwise sharp
edge of her commentary. It was when she used a more subtle approach
that I felt the script had more bite. One example was when she simply
substituted specific words in comments made about homosexuality by MP
candidates earlier in the year so that they now referred to stray cats
instead. I do acknowledge that when targeting a mainstream audience
as Kittens clearly did, you might lose your audience if your
references are too obscure or your messages are hidden under too many
layers. However, I still expected more deftness from an experienced
playwright like Yu and felt she did not walk this fine line very well.
Quite a few of the scenes came across as safe, obvious or didactic.
(In the programme, Yu professes to not wanting to write an overtly
political play. I'm not sure if she is being ironic but, at any rate,
her comparatively uninspired family drama was certainly not meaty enough
to sustain the production on its own.)
Politics aside, the script was also often on dangerous ground when
it attempted comedy because Yu was simply trying too hard to be funny.
She peppered her script with too many low-level gags and so the humour
came across as contrived. Many of the jokes – especially an extended
skit in the beginning filled with puns about cats where, for example,
an actress mimes herself driving a fancy car and says she's a "jaguar"
- fell flat and there was often an uncomfortable silence as the audience
kept silent even though they knew they were supposed to be laughing.
Having said that, the play was not without its funny moments either.
What worked well were the scenes where the cast were allowed to let
themselves go and have fun: actors suddenly breaking out into flashy
dance numbers or a deliciously surreal catfight between two warring
neighbours.
In a nutshell, I did feel that there was a really strong script somewhere
in there but that much more judicious editing was needed. If the role
of the Singapore Theatre Festival is to showcase the finest Singaporean
writing, then I must admit this falls quite some way short. However,
if its aim is to provide a platform for new works to be staged so that
they can be further explored and developed, then I would say that the
script for Kittens is an arguably worthy selection for the
promise that it shows.
In terms of the cast, I had mixed feelings too, though the overall
impression was largely positive. All the actors were comfortable with
one another and played their roles out nicely. I liked how Mohamed Fita
Helmi managed to switch energy and mannerisms to take on a variety of
different characters (son, MP candidate, delivery man, cat etc.) and
felt that Esther Yap, although a little stiff in scenes where she was
angry with her Minister husband, found success in scenes of sadness
or hilarity or those which involved her lolling around as a cat. Timothy
Nga also came across well and was a solid presence in the play, both
because of his more prominent role as the Minister but also due to his
cool confidence onstage. Unlike an otherwise likeable Alecia Kim Chua
who had energy to spare but whose inexperience showed in places where
I felt she came across a little over-rehearsed, Nga never felt the need
to oversell his part. Still, I felt that director Aidli "Alin"
Mosbit could have pushed the cast harder. They were certainly competent
but I did not always feel as if they were totally in the moment and
would have preferred more fire in their bellies to make this cat on
a hot tin roof jump a little higher.
The set design stood out because it was so full of potential that was
only partly realised. There was some interesting use of cages as a motif
(the idea of cats - and people - being trapped) but this seemed half-hearted
at best and never really pushed to its limits. Costuming was effective
if not terribly imaginative: actors were generally dressed all in white,
the colour of our leading political party. Against the backdrop of the
behind-the-scenes family drama of a Minister, this served to emphasise
the point that the political is, indeed, personal. One reading of the
play is that the government is made up of Singaporeans and is therefore
essentially a reflection of its people. To put it another way, we deserve
the government we get.
If we chide the government for being too impersonal, arrogant or unaccommodating,
for being too strict and cold towards the oppressed, we need to ask
ourselves what our own attitude is towards difference and diversity
in our society, for example, the plight of young single mothers or the
disenfranchised gay community (to use examples also cited by Yu in the
play). Do we chide the government for ignoring the plight of the lower
class but then turn a blind eye to the homeless cat on the roadside
or, indeed, the blind man selling packets of tissue paper?
On the whole, while I feel that the big ideas in Kittens were
not always well-served, the play was not without its merits. I would
certainly be interested to see it restaged even by the same team but
with more confidence so that it would really go for the jugular. Let's
hear the kitty roar!
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"I did not always feel the actors were totally in the moment and
would have preferred more fire in their bellies to make this cat on
a hot tin roof jump a little higher"
Credits
Playwright: Ovidia Yu
Director: Aidli "Alin" Mosbit
Set Designer: Yvonne Yuen
Lighting Designer: Vivianti Zasman
Costume Designer: Mothar Kassim
Hair and Wigs: Ashley Lim
Stage Manager: Molizah Mohd Mohter
Production Manager: BB Koh
Technical Designer: Teo Kuang Han
Producer: Tony Trickett
Cast: Alecia Kim Chua, Helmi Fita, Timothy Nga and
Esther Yap
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