I had fixed
ideas about what Peti Kayu Ibu would be like based on my background
knowledge that it was a one-woman play in which actress Mastura Ahmad
would be reminiscing about her character's mother with mementoes from
her mother's wooden chest as the impetus for each story. Unless director
M. Rohaizad Suaidi or adapting playwright Alfian Sa'at had decided to
truly re-imagine Kuo Pao Kun's My Mother's Wooden Chest upon
which Peti Kayu Ibu was based, I expected something sincere
and unpretentious presented in an understated, naturalistic mode - and
that was, indeed, what the play delivered.
Peti Kayu Ibu began with Mastura entering the darkened Necessary
Stage Black Box which was bare except for a large wooden structure surrounded
by sand. She then told us stories about her relationship with her ibu
(mother), in particular, how complex their relationship had been because
she was an illegitimate child from one of her father's extra-marital
affairs. These salt-of-the-earth stories which explored the difficulties
of women in a patriarchal society and more specifically the complexities
of motherhood followed a predictable arc but came off nonetheless as
heartfelt.
By about midway through the play, however, I found myself searching
for something more. Essentially, the problem for me was that the play
struck the same wistful note over the length of its 70 minutes and this
extended lament soon began to wear me down. Even when adopting such
a straightforward approach to a play, it is important that the individual
stories engage. In this case, however, the details of the anecdotes
eventually became a blur in my mind because each recount simply served
as a checkpoint for the character's life journey rather than an
interesting story in its own right. The writing felt formulaic and functional
and there was no new insight to the themes being offered either. The
situation was not helped by the fact that there was little variety in
the emotional texture of the play as a whole - more humour would have
added much needed colour - and the staging was static for the
most part. Rohaizad did try to shake things up on occasion but even
these striking directorial efforts lacked impact because they too came
across as simply par for the course for the genre - contrived
rather than organic. Mastura, whose character eventually becomes a single
mother who has to abandon her own child, slowly rips off the limbs of
a baby doll in one scene, for example, and subsequently runs around
the stage frantically trying to re-gather these body parts which she
finds buried in the sand. In another scene, sand falls from above the
stage as if it is too painful for memories to remain exposed after they
have been unearthed. Unfortunately, neither idea is particularly inspired
(sand falling onto the stage as a visual effect is something I have
actually seen in quite a few plays before although I admit it is always
quite beautiful and sad to behold) and therefore they were affecting
only for the moment.
Having said that, I liked the representation of the mother's
wooden chest not as an actual chest but as something big enough for
the actress to actually sit on and climb over. It was roughly the size
of three beds and had hidden spaces within from which Mastura could
pull out the memorabilia she was referring to. This meant that all the
items were displayed one after the other as the stories unfolded and
they were left there on-stage, visually recreating for us the tapestry
of memories that Mastura's character was going over with her mind's
eye. It was a powerful metaphor for a mother's love: it is all-encompassing
and manifold, filled with hidden treasures. The strongest element of
the production, however, was the fine performance by Mastura. She played
most scenes with a blank, stony face but she seemed so completely lost
within her performance that it convinced. This was, after all, a woman
choked with regret and longing and Mastura managed to hint at these
hidden depths through careful nuance; I especially appreciated how she
infused her character's tiredness into her every word, action
and expression.
Masura's performance achieved a depth that the rest of the play didn't
always reach but, to be fair, Peti Kayu Ibu remains a solid
work and a reasonable way to spend an afternoon. Unfortunately, it lacked
the imagination to go beyond its limitations to be a truly memorable
piece of work. |
"The strongest element of the production was the fine performance
by Mastura - she played most scenes with a blank, stony face but she
seemed so completely lost within her performance that it convinced"
Credits
Playwright: Alfian Sa’at
Director: M. Rohaizad Suaidi
Stage Manager: Shahira Hamzah Caffoor
Lighting Manager: Irfan Kasban
Technical Advisor: Rosdi Subdi
Lighting Operator: Asyurah Ismail
Sound Designer: Shariza Abdul Hamid
Make-up Artist: Mimi Jasmine
Subtitle Operator: Syamimi Zainal
Crew: Shan Rievan, Khairul Hilmi, Mali Zukifli Bin
Mai Amli
Cast: Mastura Ahmad
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