Review By Adriana Nordin Manan
Summary: Persiapan Seorang Aktor was staged from 27th to 30th June at and by Studio Sedar Ruang. Access to the space is by stairs only.
Fazleena Hishamuddin and Aloy Paradoks are married couple, Nina and Saddiq Saufy. Credit: Amar Amir
The magic of theatre lies in its immediacy, where the audience and performers cozy up in time and space to truly be in the moment together. When done right, the energy can be electrifying. “Persiapan Seorang Aktor” (“PSA”) will be remembered as a production where the alchemy was so potent, the tiny venue of Studio Sedar Ruang (also the producers of the show) felt like it was levitating from the energy.
The set, by scenographer - designer duo Hamzah Tahir and Hafshizan Hashim mimics a cramped yet homely apartment, neither ostentatious nor bare bones, filling up the venue and intriguing at first sight. It’s a set that asks to be inspected by taking our time to pick out all the different elements and get a feel of the show’s proverbial texture. Sheer drapes that look like shower curtains form the backdrop, and kitsch items like little metal pails, cabinets plastered with posters of Malay theatre shows that were staged in the past and a platform serving as a bed give the lived-in feel. Like we have stumbled into someone’s living room and if we’re not careful, we might end up knowing too much. True enough, upon entry we see the two lead actors–Aloy Paradoks and Fazleena Hishamuddin already in character, each to their own devices. We are guests in their world.
Aloy and Fazleena, formidable names in the Malay theatre scene, are longtime friends and collaborators and crowd pullers in and of themselves. Their performance, under the direction of Syahrul Musa, bears evidence of this long-steeped relationship. There is a level of comfort and seamlessness to their interactions as Saddiq Saufy and Nina, a married couple. Aloy especially uses up the space at times lamenting his fate, at times making pointed fun of certain aspects about Malaysia and more often than not, hyping himself up even when it is plain to see that his character is rather pitiful. His monologue at the end of the play, for example, is one to remember. Fazleena is very measured in her delivery, playing the devoted, gutsy and opinionated Nina with layers of softness.
The plot goes like this: actor Saddiq Saufy is unable to get out of bed and on with his day. It’s not narcolepsy but instead a very bad case of rehearsal room jitters. His upcoming production is Hamlet, where he plays the titular character. Throughout the play, Nina coaxes him to come to his senses and attend rehearsals which he has missed for two weeks already. Revealing inner turmoil, Saddiq keeps saying that he cannot do that because “all the characters I played before are stopping me.” Simple enough, however under playwright Saat Omar’s deft craftsmanship, the “small issue, small setting” of the story is of course a segue to multiple “big issue, big setting” themes that make the production a hearty helping of drama.
Come suds or tears, Nina (Fazleena Hishamuddin) is unrelenting in her support for Saddiq (Aloy Paradoks). Credit: Amar Amir
Language is a topic worthy of exploring when discussing the script. The dialogue between Saddiq and Nina has a heightened poeticness to it, something that Malay does well but the lilting, sing-song back and forth of the couple’s banter becomes particularly interesting to observe as a result. This is not a play with jerky, punchy dialogue but instead buoyant delivery that glides and carries us along. One observation regarding language relates to the pronouns Nina uses to address Saddiq, namely “kau” and “sayang.” It is a slightly unusual combination because “kau” is heard more commonly among friends (and runs the risk of sounding uncouth depending on context) while “sayang” is, well, a treacly sweet and tender term of endearment. These strange bedfellows end up creating an interesting relationship dynamic. Saddiq and Nina sound like life partners but also peers. We see this dynamic unfurl on stage throughout the play, where they speak of domestic matters but also of shared interests such as acting schools of thought and whether method acting is the bee’s knees or the devil incarnate. Theirs is a relationship with a world outside their domestic concerns.
That being said, it is clear that Nina is the giving, nurturing wife as understood within traditional gender roles. She bathes Saddiq in a bathtub like he’s an oversized baby, shampooing his hair while explaining to him that she would never leave him because she had promised his mother that she would take care of him. At one point and rather abruptly, she storms off and it looks as if things might have reached a breaking point, only for her to return later ever resolute to get things right. They are kooky characters who have their issues but seem to get on with things fast enough.
If movies have Easter eggs–references or characters from other films appearing in any one film–the “PSA” script has a roughly similar element in its subtle references to topics that an informed audience would recognise easily enough. During one scene, Saddiq replies to a question from Nina by asking aloud: “Come on Nina, how would a police officer know a theatre actor in Malaysia?” It is a rhetorical question ostensibly referring to the low profile of the local theatre scene, but those of us familiar with the ways of the land receive it another way and knowingly titter.
Fazleena Hishamuddin, Director Syahrul Musa, and Aloy Paradoks make up the cast of “Persiapan Seorang Aktor” (2024). Credit: Amar Amir
Arguably the most outstanding element of the script is its steady momentum of criss-crossing topics that are juxtaposed against one another and always moved along by humour. It would start with a macro, navel gazing topic about acting as a craft, followed by a reflection about a character’s personal situation, and then a random unrelated topic that delivers the humour purely by being so at odds with the apparent seriousness of the initial macro topic. As the cycle repeats, we are taken to higher levels of understanding the play’s world and the quirkiness of the characters and in so doing, become more invested in the story. Judging from the laughter, clearly the audience was also entertained by the madcap action on stage such as Aloy’s mimicking of jellyfish and slow lorises, and Fazleena’s incessant asking if Aloy wants to eat when in fact, I’d venture she should ask if he wants to see a therapist instead.
Later on in the play, Aloy and Fazleena are joined on stage by Syahrul Musa, the director himself, who plays the role of Razak Stanislavski, the Hamlet director looking for his long absent lead actor. While Saddiq and Razak are speaking of theatre as an art form and Saddiq as “Malaysia’s greatest actor,” Nina weepily passes them by, announcing that she has to go to a local Kedai Acheh (sundry shop) to buy basic groceries. The subtext is plain to see, because right before this scene we learn that Saddiq and Nina have run out of rice in the kitchen. Razak passes a few ringgit to Nina when he finds out, but not before plucking a few notes back to put back in his wallet.
And we titter knowingly.
About the writer.
ADRIANA NORDIN MANAN
Adriana Nordin Manan juggles eight professional roles: writer, playwright, translator, researcher, curator, dramaturg, educator and entrepreneur. Her debut full-length play, “Fault Lines,” won Best Original Script at the 19th BOH Cameronian Arts Awards. Adriana is the founder of Protagonist Studio, an outfit offering services in writing and writing-adjacent areas, and the Artistic Director of its creative arm, Cocoon Creative Lab which focuses on storytelling, cultural exchange through language and the incubation of new works. She has a Masters in Politics from New York University. Born, raised and based in Kuala Lumpur, she speaks Malay, English and Spanish.
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