Timely, charged play that skilfully skewers the pitfalls of politics, and how change is almost impossible from within.

Politicians have never had it easy. On one hand, they have to ensure that they gain the adoration of the citizens such that they can secure the popular vote and remain in power. On the other hand, how much change can they actually achieve, as they compromise their own goals when pit against the painful lashings of the party whip? Returning eight years after its 2016 production, Teater Ekamatra’s Geng Rebut Cabinet (GRC) is back to address all those issues and more, as it explores what might possibly go on behind the scenes of a constituency preparing for another election.

Written by Alfian Sa’at and directed by Mohd Fared Jainal, GRC takes place in a bizarro version of Singapore, reimagining it as a Malay-majority state, with the Chinese occupying only 14.2% of the population instead. The gerrymandering and geographical division of constituencies in this version of Singapore has reached an extreme, and our story follows the hopefuls of Chai Chee-Commonwealth, also members of the ruling Workers’ Action Party (WAP), as they plan their strategy for the upcoming elections. The members are appropriately diverse in background – the team is led by Minister of Manpower Roslan (Sani Hussin), while supported by Doctor Zainab (Dalifah Shahril), Brigadier General ‘Boy’ Bukhari (Fir Rahman), high-flying lawyer Maisarah (Farah Ong), and their brand new minority race representative, former principal Catherine Seah (Serene Chen).

Politics has always made for prime dramatic material, and especially as we anticipate yet another General Election season, GRC comes back during a timely period, serving to raise pertinent questions about how much planning goes into political campaigns, right down to the way language and terminology, and what to address or leave out are carefully constructed and presented. The play then primarily examines the topic of race relations, and how regardless of which race is in the minority, unhappiness and unrest arises in the face of discriminatory policies.

After all, this version of Singapore is virtually indistinguishable from the one we recognise when we step outside. By flipping the numbers on their head, GRC allows us to see things from a different perspective, where the Chinese minority in this world are poor, and need an organisation dedicated to stamping out problem gambling, while getting complaints about noisy lion dances or are subject to Malay beauty standards. It is a fascinating ‘what-if’ scenario that feels all-too familiar because of its direct parallel to Singapore society, and prompts audiences to feel the realism of the play coursing throughout its runtime, questioning the potential double standards that exist in our own lives.

As such, in GRC, it is the antics of the constituent that keeps us entertained and quietly disturbed throughout. In the beginning, we see a group that’s confident and assured of their win, going through the motions of discussing how to present themselves, or how to rally stronger support. Every move is planned and strategised, while they fantasise about the potential positions they’ll take on in Parliament. There is a jovial camaraderie adopted by the Malay cast, allowing them to feel like old hands at this political game, even by Sani Hussin, who is the only new cast member not reprising his role. Sani in particular is a scene-stealer, cracking bordering-on-inappropriate jokes with a sonorous laugh, very much the anchor of the entire team with his strong presence and can-do spirit. A second side to him comes out later on, when he puts his foot down and becomes far more serious, his face and demeanour completely changing when it becomes time to get down to business, the closer it gets to crunch time.

Opposite him, Fir Rahman, as the younger Boy, brings an interesting nuance to his role, as someone who clearly has political ambitions but is still relatively innocent, learning the ropes and getting used to playing the game and performing a role. As the military representative, there is plenty of aggression and enthusiasm to prove himself. As for the women, there seems to be an inherent sense of sexism levied against them, with Sani’s Roslan garbling Zainab’s name as the more ‘kampung’ version, or Boy saying Maisarah appears ‘butch’. Dalifah brings a pleasantness to Zainab that makes her the least antagonistic of the group, and possibly the one who wants to make the most genuine, progressive change while caring for her volunteers, while Farah channels a seriousness into her performance that impresses each time she presents a fully-developed plan, showcasing whipsmart intellect and the means to achieve any goal she sets her mind to.

It is Catherine then, as the outlier and wild card of the group, as the Malay members do everything in their power to showcase their inclusivity, from dressing her in lucky red colours to encouraging her to do a public display of writing her name in Jawi. On the surface, she is the perfect candidate, representing the education sector and having even taken Malay as a third language, an advocate for Chinese rights and with strong involvement in the local community. At the same time, there is a tension that stems from her naivete, where she sees the potential to create more revolutionary change if voted in, completely ignoring her original planned summary during the rally and advocating for radical policies instead. Serene plays the role with earnestness, a clear parallel to many of the outspoken activists in our midst who speak loud and proud, constantly questioning the status quo without fear of the consequences it might spell for them.

With that in mind, one can already imagine her fate as the play progresses, with the rest of the members tasked to put her in her place, butting heads and trying to reason with her so as not to rock the boat. Director Mohd Fared Jainal does this extremely well, where the entire mood shifts from lighthearted to something far more sinister as Roslan and Boy take her aside to discipline her. Yet, there is still opportunity for humour amidst the fear, with a well-directed scene in a WAP kindergarten that utilises props such as a whiteboard and colourful stools to great effect, resulting in careful balance that allows us to laugh even when we know Catherine is fighting a losing battle.

That, in essence is what GRC does so well, thanks to Alfian’s script that effectively skewers the idea of a political circus by pointing out all the hoops one jumps through to win an election, the double standards enjoyed by the majority race, and even the over-the-top original song and accompanying MV that perfectly parodies other political campaign videos. It is a fiercely intelligent script that takes no prisoners, targeting terminology like the ‘middle class’, to loaded language, and the dirty tactics employed by both ruling and opposition parties to get ahead of the game at a moment’s notice, bringing it all to light.

Of course, underneath all the humour, at the end of it all, GRC hits hardest with a poignant truth. The show ends in much the way most elections do – with very little that actually changes. Heavy hangs the head that wears the crown, and those in power would certainly want to keep the status quo if there is no reason to make a difference. While one can dream of a better world, and even provide viable solutions, too much change in too short a time is almost certain to anger the majority, and threaten the vote share in future elections. The only correct response to that is to resort to tokenism rather than actual affirmative action, and silence potential troublemakers, lest there be a riot. GRC ranks among Ekamatra’s best, a show that knows how to have fun, while dishing out hard truths audiences have no choice but to reflect on. Supported by a strong ensemble who plays their roles with aplomb, the witty script remains deeply relevant almost a decade on, and if anything, paves the way for how we will be viewing the rallies at the next General Election, and the way the country is governed as a whole.

Photo Credit: TwoDotsPhotography

Geng Rebut Cabinet (GRC) plays from 5th to 15th September 2024 at Wild Rice @ Funan. Tickets available here

Teater Ekamatra is currently running the 2024 edition of their Ambol! fundraising campaign. Receive a limited edition Teater Ekamatra tote bag when you donate $50. Donate here

Production Credits:

Director Mohd Fared Jainal Playwright Alfian Sa’at Set Designer Mohd Fared Jainal Cast Dalifah Shahril, Farah Ong, Fir Rahman, Sani Hussin, Serene Chen Lighting Designer Alberta Wileo Sound Designer Safuan Johari Graphic Designer A. Syadiq Video Production Grace Baey, Basil Tan, Denise Oliveiro Producer Shaza Ishak Co-Producer and Production Manager Khairina Khalid Assistant Production Manager Anais Adjani Stage Manager Giovanni Harris Production Assistant Sharmin Norman, Natalie Titus, Ali Mazrin Marketing Assistant Haziqah Hashir Surtitlist Nur Farisah Hair & Make Up Artist Jane Shah, Aliff Ali Khan Election Results Announcer Zulfadli Rashid Music Video Performer Nabil Ridali, Sarah Adlina, Rusyaidi Rashid