Heavy-handed messaging about holding on to hope at the end of the world.

The anthropocene refers to a time in which human activity has become the primary influence on climate and the environment, where man has fully established control and dominance, as we shape the world in our image. Naturally, playing god when we’re mere mortals has its consequences, something that is explored in new play Anthropocene.

Written by Vivian Quek, under the mentorship of director Jeremiah Choy, Anthropocene imagines a dystopian world that is suffering from drought brought on by severe climate change. Humans of course, are still trying to counter this, and in our play, we watch as humans desperately try to bring it all back, only to watch the world crumble before them.

Taking on a magic realist approach, Anthropocene shifts between two timelines – the past and the present. The past exists as a more agricultural world, featuring a simple farming community facing dry weather that threatens to leave everyone to dehydrated. Feeling somewhat biblical in reference, at the heart of this is a sister and brother (Suhaili Safari and Wan Ahmad), the former believing in the spirit of her dead mother inhabiting a tree, and the latter wanting to dig up the tree when the well dries up.

In the second timeline, a mysterious man (Jayden Lim Jun De) owns an emporium that seemingly can give anyone anything they want. The emporium then transforms into a site for political debate, when the man proposes the invention of rain-inducing technology, and a politician and environmentalist (Fandy A. and Rachel Linn Braberry) engage in an argument over whether to use it or not, while an ordinary patron (Suhaili Safari) watches on, increasingly detached from the situation.

If it sounds confusing, that’s because it is. While there is great imagination at play here in dreaming up the two timelines, Anthropocene suffers from similar issues to last week’s The Thieves, in that it contains too many ideas that require better arrangement and smoothing out for better flow. Often, it feels like two different plays spliced together, and the transitions between each timeline, while made clear due to the costume changes, feel sudden and clunky.

Under Jeremiah’s direction, Anthropocene’s more surreal elements are brought to the fore, with an initial opening scene that sees the characters performing movements while the stage is darkened, a red light pulsating as we hear the sound of a heartbeat, as if we can hear the Earth, very much alive. These are the play’s most successful moments, and perhaps exemplify a more abstract approach that might have helped the play coalesce its ideas more coherently.

As a whole, Anthropocene is extremely ambitious but heavy-handed in its approach, in part because of the seriousness of the topic, and also because of how there is always an aura of certain doom that hangs in the air. Particularly in the modern day timeline, the division of opinions among the three characters is simple and keeps them all as caricature-like mouthpieces rather than having much depth to their development, often harping on the same point. It feels too on the nose and focused on bringing across thinly-veiled points, rather than getting to the emotional crux of what ultimately convinces a person to fight back against climate change.

In essence, there is very little that feels ‘real’ about this play, and that makes it harder to feel for the characters at all. In fact, it is the timeline set in the past that seems more raw, more emotional, as we watch Suhaili Safari fall over, grovelling and begging her brother to stop, that makes us feel for her and her intricate link to mother nature (symbolically represented by Rachel Braberry, in black, hovering sadly near the tree). Anthropocene succeeds here in bringing across its message of care more subtly, rather than hitting us over the head with it. There is so much that is said, rather than being felt, that as much as its message is there, we do not relate or feel compelled to internalise it.

By its end, Anthropocene does indeed move us towards its predestined doomsday ending, but rather than ending it on a pessimistic note, it decides to put a positive spin on things, combining both timelines to show a link to the past, and introduce a descendant who decides to make the most of things rather than mourn one’s losses. While this does feel somewhat deliberate, it does result in a nice bookend to the show, where there is at last, the relief of rain after the years of struggle and conflict, allowing nature to heal on its own rather than force its hand.

As an emerging writer, Vivian Quek seems bright-eyed and ready to tackle big ideas. She is innovative and has a story to tell, but like most writers at the start of their career, requires a stronger hand to guide her towards more stringent edits and dramaturgy that allow her key message to come through in a more elegant, nuanced way without being bogged down by its need to directly address climate change head on. For now, Anthropocene, much like its staging, exists between worlds, and in future, needs to find a happy medium between forms, to be more comfortable just allowing conversation to flow, in order for its simple idea of leaving the planet alone to come through and really leave an emotional impact.

Photo Credit: Toy Factory Productions

Anthropocene played from 22nd to 24th September, and the final show in The Wright Stuff 2023, The Prisoner, plays from 29th September to 1st October 2023, at Gateway Theatre Black Box. Tickets available here.

Production Credits:

Director & Mentor: Jeremiah Choy Playwright: Vivian Quek Set/Lighting Designer: Tai Zi Feng Sound Designer: Lim Ming Yang Cast: Rachel Linn Braberry, Suhaili Safari, Jayden Lim Jun De, Wan Ahmad, Fandy A.