Hotel (2015), Review

Hotel dissatisfaction

A mixed bag of tricks from W!ld Rice’s finest.

Singapore. 100 years: 1915-2015. How do you tell a story to account for an entire century?

W!ld Rice’s answer: You tell ten stories, each representing one decade.

And not only that, but to set all ten stories in the SAME hotel room.

And not only that, but to have the entire show split into Parts 1 and 2, for a total run-time of FIVE hours.

If you thought that setup sounds shaky, you are correct. However, with a cast and production roster to rival last year’s staging of The House of Bernada Alba (also produced by W!ld Rice), expectations run high for this two-part epic.

Way …Too … High!

The show opens with more fizzle than bang – the backdrop of the set looks like it will collapse if an audience member accidentally sneezes in their seat. The choreographed movements of the ensemble cast to signal the change of scenes, coupled with the flagrantly twee soundscape, makes one feel as if one is watching “Singapore: the Pantomime”. As if those aren’t offensive enough (and don’t even get me started on the abysmal acoustics of the over-cramped venue), from my viewing position all the way at the top of the Circle-Circle (yes, it was a circle on top of another circle), I can see ALL the stage markings onstage.

Cue the cringes.

Onto the plot then. Part 1, from year 1915 to 1965, flits from topic to topic, briefly touching on colonialism, the Japanese Occupation, P. Ramlee films, to feminism. Interestingly, these scenes take their cue from other theatrical genres, from Genet to Bollywood – a small but nonetheless inspired idea to trace the history of theatre alongside Singapore’s own history. Part 2, from year 1975 to 2015, demonstrates a maturity of plot development that coherently weaves together different languages, save for a shaky start with a dream sequence that features LSD and – get this – walking penis mascots.

Cue the “WTF??”.

Now don’t get me wrong here – Hotel isn’t completely rubbish. The cast execute their roles competently, and at its best, the comedy is ridiculously funny yet socially incisive. However, no matter how much the creative team puts their creative spin on setting the stories in the same hotel room over an entire century, the premise remains uninspired to me. Anything can happen in the privacy of a hotel room – this seems far too easy for two experienced playwrights (Alfian and Vanderstraaten). There are times when these side stories of the Other Singapore meander into wish-fulfillment territory, which makes it even more of a creative cop-out.

I guess this is one of those times where a production looks good on paper, but turns out otherwise.

Cue the sighs.