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Theatre Review

“WRECKS” by NEIL LABUTE

“So many times I have ‘kari makan’ roles where I just play a Chinese gangster who speaks with a thick accent for laughs… roles like Edward in Wrecks are substantial ones that get me excited” said Patrick Teoh, the solo performer in ‘Wrecks’, the play I would like to review.  Wrecks is a one man play written by Neil Labute which was performed at the KL Performing Arts Centre in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia between 13th and 22nd November 2007.  Of all the productions I have seen in the last year, this had the most impact on me not only because it was a brilliant soliloquy, but because it was a poignant and moving exploration of the human soul, it kept the audience guessing and had a good twist at the end.  

The whole piece was an ongoing monologue featuring Edward, a loving father, a successful businessman and a grieving widower.  The scene was his wife’s funeral where he candidly shared his story with us, of the life he had lived, and the woman he had lived his life for.  The simple set came as quite a shock to the audience as they entered the theatre.  There was no curtain, and the stage was dimly lit and relatively bare.  The set consisted of a coffin placed slightly stage-right, a row of chairs at the back, a small table and chair located front left, a lovely stand full of a funereal bouquet of flowers, a row of candles in long candle holders ordered by height and an entrance backleft with a large wall mirror just on stage.  The audience’s attention was immediately drawn to the coffin, not only because it seemed to be rather a morbid prop, but because of the large arresting photograph of a beautiful young woman, which was standing upright on top of the coffin.

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   The play began with Edward’s entrance from the back, adjusting his tie in the mirror. He was dressed in a black suit, which obviously fitted the context of the piece. He said nothing for at least five minutes walking about the stage examining everything. The silence itself captured the audience’s attention; one could almost hear his thoughts by watching his facial expressions, and in a strange way it became almost embarrassing to be intruding on this person’s grief as if it was a private moment, rather than a public performance. He eventually made his way towards the photograph, ...

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