Remember
the Boom Boom Room? That kooky little gay club on Amoy Street with the
hottest go-go boys in the country? That was where Kumar made his name
in the 90s as Singapore's best and most outrageous comedian -
dressed in evening gown or sari, he'd tell the filthiest jokes
in town to a mixed group of army boys, tourists and club kids, shattering
all our petty PC taboos of sex, race and politics. Honestly: in an age
where PELU was censoring plays left, right and centre, what he got away
with saying was fucking amazing.
So it's no wonder that Kumar: The Queen got a colossal
turnout: we wanted to relive those days of naughtiness on a concert-hall
scale, with a quality worth a top-dollar ticket to the Esplanade. Dream
Academy attempted to deliver on our dreams by pouring its proceeds into
amping up the cabaret effects - a plot emerged, in which Kumar
set off to become Queen of the World, justifying set and costume changes
portraying exotica from Bollywood to Brazil. Yet somewhere along the
way, these dreams of domination fell through - the splendid gallimaufries
of the proscenium stage just weren't enough.
Sure, the show started with a big enough bang, as the chorus boys and
girls employed Kamasutra-esque permutations of their bodies to mime
a symphony orchestra, mocking the classical chi-chi of the grand proscenium
stage as Kumar himself descended from the flybar in a concentric series
of radiating hearts.
But very quickly, we fans began to notice that something was subtly
amiss. When the buffed chorus boys, whom Kumar introduced as his Grrrr-khas,
did a military salute, it was slipshod and unsynchronised. Later dance
routines were similarly inadequately co-ordinated - a far cry
from the sharp moves of the Boom Boom Room ensemble of yesteryear -
and none of the choristers had anything resembling stage presence on
the few occasions when they were called upon to speak.
While Kumar's standup skills were as sharp as ever, the plot
of the evening seemed strangely exhausting. Having excoriated Singapore
with his usual wit, our hero(ine) announced that he was now weary of
the country, and would thus seek queendom in other realms, yet his antics
in each successive nation seldom often seemed so pointless and irrelevant
that one sometimes wished he'd never left off mocking our own
country. What was the reasoning behind that absurd dance-off in China
that resulted in his becoming Empress? And what about that scene in
which the comedian is chased and almost cooked by African cannibals?
(I do believe it's productive to be able to joke about race; but
this scene was played from a position of such ignorance and cliché
about a still disadvantaged group that I honestly don't think
it was appropriate.)
Having a weak, perfunctory plot didn't just hurt the drama of
Kumar: The Queen; it also hurt the comedy, as the comedian's
jokes seemed gradually hampered and diluted as the night went on. The
supposed climax of the show occurred when Kumar emerges from Buckingham
Palace wearing the British crown, having convinced Elizabeth II to relinquish
her duties and thus allow him to restore the glory of the House of Windsor.
And all it took after that was a Beefeater bearing the daily schedule,
packed full of meetings with Prime Minister Brown, to send him packing
home for Singapore in a blaze of renewed patriotism, borne out of fatigue.
I don't want to exaggerate the flaws of this show - Kumar remained
larger than life throughout the show, delivering a performance that
was incontrovertibly enjoyable on the whole (though also lamentably
overpriced). The ensemble, too, had its moments - playing US Homeland
Security officials arresting Kumar and sending him to Guantanamo Bay,
or playing an all-singing all-dancing crowd at Changi Airport, including
two Buddhist monks and a gun-toting Islamic terrorist - how gloriously
wrong is that?
Still, it's rather telling that the writers of this show decided to
place the entire tale within the context of ennui. It's not the 90s
anymore: theatre companies can now get funds to stage plays critical
of the government and queer nightlife is practically a pillar of the
economy. Now that so many of the old taboos have gone, how can a rebel
like Kumar maintain his street cred? In Singapore, he does standup at
Hard Rock Café and performs cameos in everything from Channel
5's My Sassy Neighbour to the National Museum gala 120
to the Fringe Festival youth special Survivor
Singapore - hell, we've even exported him to London for Singapore
Seasons in a performance of Asian
Boys Vol. 1.
Perhaps Kumar - like so many other Singaporean practitioners -
feels a desire to escape the tiny circle of theatre we have here, to
discover some hitherto unimagined relevance abroad. Witness the show's
final number - a rendition of I Don't Wanna Show Off
from The Drowsy Chaperone, in which Kumar announces his resignation
from showbiz in a theatrical show of wild choreography and magic tricks
that make it clear that he'll never leave the stage. Is there
some subtext here of a lust for self-transformation, a longing to become
dangerous again?
In a way, the act of changing the tried and true formula of Kumar's
standup comedy is an attempt to break free of a prior identity. But
it's terribly hard to leave the past behind - one of the crowd's
favourite moments, in fact, was a segment based on classic Boom Boom
Room madness, set in Bangkok, with the chorus gals trussed up as khon
dancers and the boys dragged out as kathoeys, leaping into the aisles
to do skirted backflips amidst the audience while Kumar lip-synced to
a Thai-accented cover of I Will Survive. No introductory babble,
no extraneous plot - nada. Just deliciously brainless camp.
From a marketing point of view, it's obvious what Dream Academy
Productions should've done to create a palatable show: cast better
dancers, rehearse them longer, invest in a slightly less tacky set,
and not attempt any kind of narrative or acting in the show -
just have a fashion parade of costumes and crass comedy, with Kumar
to be the lovable drag diva whom everyone knows already.
It's more difficult to make a recommendation from the perspective
of someone who believes in growth and transformation in the arts scene.
Perhaps Kumar - whose royal status should not be in dispute -
could have played off the chemistry of a similar, but not identical
brand of comedian. Norleena Salim used to front for him in the Boom
Boom Room, and there are various other comic drag queens who've
MCed gay and lesbian events to popular approval - why not help
to bring them into the limelight as well?
Kumar: The Queen promises the world but doesn't quite make
good on its word: for the time being, at least, Kumar's performance
style isn't flexible enough to portray a quest for power on stage, and
the comedian's best appreciated when he's being utterly himself. It'll
be risky business - intriguing, but risky - if he resolves to transform
himself further, either by exploring other genres or new geographical
horizons, but whatever the case, one thing is sure: for my generation,
he will forever be a legend.
First Impression
Kumar's standup is still great in a proscenium theatre - plenty of
politically incorrect, shit-your-pants laughter to be had here, as the
iconic drag comedian takes on race, religion, politics and even the
Esplanade itself. But there's actually little added value in taking
his nightclub act to the big stage - sure, he's got the fabulous costumes
of Dream Academy and some borderline-cool sets to play with, but his
chorusline of buffed boys and slinky gals just aren't slick or co-ordinated
enough with their dance moves, and the shaky plot of his journeying
from nation to nation to become Queen of the Universe doesn't contribute
any zing to his jokes, which actually become a tad repetitive after
a while. As a whole, I've seen better shows of his in the old Boom Boom
Room, where the dancers were ripped and synced and knew everything from
hip-hop to bharatnantyam. I'll admit this, though - Kumar is still larger
than life, and gives an enjoyable show no matter what the extenuating
circumstances.
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"Is there some subtext here of a lust for self-transformation,
a longing to become dangerous again?"
Credits
Director: Selena Tan
Writers: Esan Sivalingam, Seah Chang Un
Choreographer: Erich Edralin
Set Designers: Nicholas Li, Li Jia Yi, Lin Shuxian, Tiw Pek Hong, Yang
Han
Lighting Designer: Yo Shao Ann
Sound Designer: Shah Tahir
Costume Designers: Frederick Lee, Moe Kasim
Hair Designer and Stylist: Ashley Kim
Make Up Artists: Bobbie Ng, LowJyue Hey
Graphic Designer: Geffrey Chan
Production Stage Manager: Denise Low
Deputy Stage Manager: Grace Chua
Assistant Stage Manager: Toh Lin
Technical Manager: Tay Huey Meng
Producer: Shireen Abdullah
Assistant Producer: Rajkumar s/o Ghana Segaran
Cast: Kumar, Aidli Bin Amin, Amanda Tay, Farhan Hassan, Fariz Bin Sarib,
Gordon Choy, Jacqueline Pereira, Lee Jin Li, Kathryn Lim, Miko Valenzuela,
Nur Aslinda Bte Mean, Oliver Pang, Umar Bin Aziz, Zachary Goh
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