Adrift at Sea
We walk into the performers living an idyllic island life, lounging in the sun beneath an umbrella, sailing in a makeshift boat across the stage, and fishing with plastic bait. Before the play’s first scene even begins, Angkat: A Definitive, Alternative, Reclaimed Narrative of a Native creates this sense of a dreamscape. And though this dreamscape leads to some striking and imaginative images, there is little firmness for the audience to latch onto.
Angkat: A Definitive, Alternative, Reclaimed Narrative of a Native, written by Nabilah Said and directed by Noor Effendy Ibrahim, revisits Nabilah’s earlier works, State Land, written as part of the Centre 42 Boiler Room programme, and Angkat, which was staged by Teater Ekamatra in December 2017. 2019’s Angkathopes to put these two pieces in dialogue with one another, reflecting on their different themes.
It is very clear that this production is nothing like Ekamatra’s Angkat. While Ekamatra’s production was grounded in a focused, character-driven story, this version of Angkat floats around and in between narrative conventions, constantly resisting predictability or clarity. While this reviewer finds little value in comparing two separate productions with very different aims, it is worth saying that this version of Angkat felt frustrating in a way that 2017’s version never did.
This frustration comes from the oscillation between the two scripts. Though the concept of putting the two plays in dialogue raises poignant dramatic questions, it does not feel like the two plays are in conversation. The different styles of the two texts makes it hard for them to be in dialogue, as the islanders’ narrative in State Land is allegorical and conceptual, while the singing competition in Angkat is more grounded and realist. This is not to say the production ought to adhere to any dramatic conventions or dilute Nabilah’s distinct voice. But the two different textures of the narratives does compromise on the impact of both styles.
While this production does not fully deliver on a clear emotional trajectory, its comedy is fast, unique, and incredibly effective. There is a distinct sense of play exuding throughout the production that is infectious. The three men, Adib Kosnan, Hafidz Abdul Rahman, and Izzul Irfan, are consistently hilarious, whether they are playing three orphaned school boys, “judges” on the singing show, or a punk band resisting conformity. This sense of play bleeds into the staging and set design, which is filled with vibrant colours, unexpected sources of lighting, and inventive mise en scènes.
Though Angkat may be confusing and at times incoherent, it is a fun production that surprises its audience. This reviewer only hopes that further iterations of this piece can maintain this level of inventiveness, while managing to put its rich material into a more emotionally-anchored production.