He gives me ashes for beauty. 

This is a love story. Or at least a story about love. 

Written by Amanda Chong and directed by Pam Oei, Psychobitch is a dramatic monologue centering on hotshot broadcast journalist Anya Samuel. Played by Sindhura Kalidas, Anya is introduced to us with an odd premise – she’s been accused by her fiancé, tech bro Galven Low, of being too emotional and unstable, and must explain and defend four incidents where she’s cried in public.

As ridiculous as it sounds, being the Type A-personality that she is, Anya takes up the challenge with gusto, and prepares a killer slide deck and presentation to knock Galven’s socks off, and save their relationship once and for all. What follows is an incisive performance where Anya recounts her history with Galven, from their meet-cute over drinks where she plays it coy, before following the rapid development past the honeymoon phase, moving in with each other and of course, becoming a future married couple.

Throughout, Anya proves herself to be an endearing character, and perhaps all too relatable for the average go-getter Singaporean who’s ever stepped foot into the perilous dating pool. While she’s certainly capable and a certified workaholic (she achieves Inbox Zero and prepares her stories a week in advance), there is an undeniable sense of loneliness and desperation that drives her actions, a primal urge to prove herself and show that she is Capable with a capital C, something she seems to inherent recognise while lacing her words with self-deprecating humour or razor-sharp, witty social commentary.

Psychobitch is a work that affords its actress an unparalleled opportunity to express herself and deal with heavy drama, razor-sharp humour and play multiple characters. Sindhura very much capitalises on that, and nails the delivery of her lines and appropriately plays up the physicality, as one would when telling a funny story to a friend. Oftentimes, it feels like she’s putting her entire soul onstage, always feeling like she is pouring her heart out to us and being her truest, most genuine self as Anya.

Millennial dramatics are abound, such as Googling if she has a brain tumour over a recurring headache, whispering words to a phone to influence the algorithm, drunk and asking a shocked Galven to write an ode to her uterus, or manic social media stalking of his ex, all going over well with the audience. While there are certain scenes that overplay the camp or are too in your face, director Pam Oei mostly has a clear guiding hand in getting the comic timing right, and allowing Sindhura to show off her comedic chops.

Sindhura is at her strongest when doing character work, effortlessly slipping in and out of Anya Samuel to the other people in her life. From the flood of corporate-talk that comes out of Galven’s mouth, to her wizened grandmother worrying about her becoming a heathen, to her pastor father keeping her celibate and even an ah beng-coded property agent, Sindhura makes each character one you immediately recognise in your own life from the moment she speaks, thanks also in part to her clear expressions. Transitioning between them so smoothly, she still manages to pop back into her role as Anya Samuel, reacting with real emotion as she holds conversations with them or delves into her own analytical mind and assesses each situation.

It’s not hard to see that, beyond her natural talent, this is a script that is appropriately challenging for Sindhura while also catering to her performance style. Writer Amanda Chong may still be relatively fresh to the world of playwriting, but already she approaches the task with an almost surgical precision and meticulousness, possessing a clarity and assuredness that makes the story so compelling, even when it jumps back and forth in time. Something about her writing has cut away any unnecessary lines, and the message and through line is crystal clear, coalescing sassy comebacks, a medley of well-fleshed out side characters, heartbreak and trauma into a full-on journalistic investigation you want to follow all the way through.

Above all, there is a richness to Amanda’s writing that cannot easily be replicated. A monologue is a wonderful space for Amanda to work with because it capitalises on not having to field constant dialogue and character interactions, and allows her to insert poeticisms, reflections and precise description and language where she can. In a single monologue, Amanda has also woven in further complexities beyond being a working woman in Singapore, incorporating issues of conservative families, racism, and the complexity of faith, achieved with deftness and sensitivity that allows audience members to empathise with.

Naturally, both writing and performance are also assisted with some stellar work from the other creatives. Multimedia artist Elizabeth Mak crafts Anya’s mind-blowing slide deck, with individual elements such as Galven’s company logo emblazoned on a car and Anya’s personal website logo designed just for this show, or even matching Anya’s periods to her emotional outbursts in a bloody animation, alongside being a genuinely eye-catching presentation. In planning her outfit, costume designer Max Tan has Anya donning a full jacket and suit at first, before she strips it down over the course of the play to represent her increasing vulnerability, always professional, while at the same time never sexualising her.

Psychobitch ultimately is a work that while funny, knows exactly how to stop you in your tracks exactly when it needs to, intelligent for its ability to have us become so enamoured and enraptured with Anya’s own mission to prove Galven wrong that we too fail to see the bigger problem, and blindsided her from the truth. To want the best for one’s self isn’t a crime, but to want to achieve that while sacrificing actual happiness and settling for anything less than is a detriment to one’s self, one Anya finally realises when confronted with bitter reality that no doubt leaves the audience visibly shaken.

It is only when you see things from a different angle that you finally understand the big picture. While Psychobitch is ostensibly a comedy, presenting the modern working woman in all her problematic, chaotic, messy life in love, work and family, it eventually evolves into an affecting, reflective piece on what we put up with for the sake of fitting an trivial ideal foisted upon us by society. And it is so powerful not only for being so sharp with its observations, but in how it clearly strikes a chord with the entire theatre, as we gasp, laugh, cringe and cry, or even turn to shoot a look at our friends when Anya says something all too familiar.

Exemplary in both its script and performance, there is an infallible, even inspirational sense of confidence that emanates from this production, from both an emerging playwright and an actress who has navigated all the subtleties, mess, joy and complexity of being a woman. As Sindhura takes her bows, we see Amanda seated in the shadows, smiling and applauding this incredible feat of acting her friend has achieved, in a production they should both be proud of. As the prodigal daughter returns home, finally looking at her unanswered messages, all the ashes seem to have transformed into something beautiful, as she survives the pain to grow from the experience, better than ever before.

Photos courtesy of Wild Rice

Psychobitch plays from 3rd to 19th August 2023 at the Ngee Ann Kongsi Theatre. Tickets available from SISTIC

Production Credits:

Director: Pam Oei
Playwright: Amanda Chong
Cast: Sindhura Kalidas
Dramaturg: Alfian Sa’at
Set & Multimedia Designer: Elizabeth Mak
Lighting Designer: Adrian Tan
Sound Designer: weish
Costume Designer: Max Tan
Prop Master: Joyce Gan
Hair Designer: Ashley Lim
Make-Up Designer: Bobbie Ng

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