How much is too much when we live in a culture where exhaustion and burnout is worn like a badge of pride?

In a world where we’re constantly told to work hard if we want to make our dreams come true, countless hustlers have made it their life’s mission to do all they can to make it happen, going into overdrive to work around the clock and harness every minute to ensure maximum efficiency. And while it reaps plenty of rewards, it’s also the kind of culture that easily leads to burnout, leaving one not only physically drained, but also increasingly jaded and pessimistic, as one begins to question whether there is light at the end of the tunnel.

Drawing from personal experiences and friends, artists Cheryl Ho and Rachel Lee (MASHH, Mm and Something Happens Here) explore that in their show I Am Seaweed, which made its Singapore premiere last week after a successful run at the 2024 Melbourne Fringe Festival. Directed by Tan Hui Er, I Am Seaweed stars Cheryl as Sheryl (with an S) – a freelancer who, not unlike Cheryl in real life, is running around all day from one job to another. From doing voiceover work, to teaching drama to children, to conducting public speaking workshops, to scheduling auditions for upcoming shows, Sheryl squeezes in just enough time to eat a burrito before barely making it to her next venue, as she tells herself that she’s living the dream.

The show derives its title from how Cheryl once saw seaweed in miso soup, and how quickly it absorbed all the liquid around it and expanded far beyond its original size. ‘I Am Seaweed’ then becomes a mantra, to take on more and more and be like seaweed – to take every new challenge in her stride and become a better person because of it. But as she cancels on friends to fit more gigs in and represses her own opinions to secure jobs, a hidden rage begins to build. Luckily for her, she has the help of her inner self, affectionately known as C-Weed (with a C), who dons a green tee proudly declaring her to be in her ‘Slay Everyday Era’, endlessly positive as she hypes up Sheryl and tells her not to be such a downer and look on the bright side.

I Am Seaweed‘s strongest trait is just how unnervingly relatable Sheryl’s experience is, as we watch her miss her buses and fight temptation to yell at her students. She attempts therapy, but is bogged down by her own insecurities and how she ‘should’ appear to her therapist, who triggers and discomforts Sheryl when using the word ‘control’, in turn making Sheryl feel embarrassed. Throughout the play, Sheryl copes by making wry, often self-deprecating jokes, or simply facing away from the problem and putting on a big smile instead (accompanied by big, boisterous slides), or letting C-Weed being her hype woman, gassing her up when necessary.

This is a show that is tailor-made to showcase both creators Cheryl and Rachel’s skillsets as well. Cheryl’s voiecework range is impressive, particularly when she’s in the recording studio, where she displays her ability to do everything from commercially-viable advertisements, to cartoonish adaptations of comics. Elsewhere, she puts on her teacher voice, coaxing children to do a tableau of a beach, while as C-Weed, she showcases a seemingly endless well of energy. Meanwhile, Rachel’s lighting is itself a character as well, using spotlights in specific places onstage for Sheryl to stand in, demarcating and compartmentalising different facets of Sheryl’s life to make it crystal clear which job she’s doing at any one point in time.

But how long can she keep this up? Just like the set, with how its seemingly ordinary lounge and living room setting is clearly being overtaken by mossy green ‘seaweed’, it is clear that none of this is sustainable, and eventually, Sheryl bursts. One of the most poignant scenes is when she arrives late to a family meal, and begins to find fault with everything; her vegetarian diet is dismissed by an aunt, and she shows her contempt by dumping all the beef on her plate on another, while an uncle tells her to monetise her skills more by opening a school, triggering her own fears that whatever she’s doing is ultimately futile. She compares herself to her financially more stable sister, who pays for the entire meal without a second though, and in the car home with her mother, she can no longer hold it down, and has a straight up outburst.

By its end, there are tears in the audience’s eyes with how familiar these scenes of distress and clear burnout are to them – and it’s true, it is becoming far too common of an occurrence to ignore in Singapore. Cheryl’s sincerity in penning the script sees it through from start to end, and together with a video montage (also by Rachel) of seemingly ordinary scenes in Singapore, with Vick Low’s evocative sound design, makes for a phenomenal burst of emotion. As whimsical as it all is, the team successfully manages to keep it firmly rooted in reality, where Sheryl’s breaking of the fourth wall endears us to her, and how much she struggles with compromising the idea of who she is meant to be, with what she can actually handle.

In its final scene, all of us are keenly aware that what Sheryl really needs is to be kind to herself, and start learning to say ‘no’, as terrifying as it may be. And as an alarm clock begins ringing to remind her of all her obligations and commitments, she remains curled up, spotlight after spotlight shining down for her to occupy. Yet she has made a conscious decision to no longer move to occupy them, and put herself first, just letting the lights go and reacquainting with her own self to begin healing.

I Am Seaweed is resonant without pushing a lesson on us, nimbly sidestepping toxic positivity to deal with very real issues of the fear one is wasting one’s life away, and the moment one gives in to these anxieties, one is left on edge, with our fight or flight response constantly activated. In terms of its limitations, I Am Seaweed is, simply put, a work that seeks to represent and put onstage a very personal experience that is relatable to all, putting a hard stop as to how much further it can be developed without extending or broadening its scope or delving deeper into its search for a longer-term way forward to resolve one’s burnout and neuroses, or a different perspective on the issue. What it does leave us with is how it admits there is yet to be any real magic solution to resolve it all, instead simply reminding us that we cannot fall into the trap of letting the Singapore dream override our own, and thank goodness that MASHH has made such a moving, grounded performance out of it.

Photo credit: Poh Yu Khing

Read our interview with MASHH here

I Am Seaweed played from 16th to 18th January 2025 at the NAFA Studio Theatre.

The 2025 M1 Singapore Fringe Festival ran from 8th to 19th January 2025. More information available here

To contribute towards the Fringe Festival Fund, visit donate.necessary.org or Giving.sg.

Production Credits:

Writer and Performer Cheryl Ho Director Tan Hui Er Lighting & Production Design Rachel Lee Sound Design Vick Low Multimedia Assistant Ryan Choo Set Assistant Cheow Jiong Ling Creative Captioner Nur Shafiza (Shai) Captions Operator Rene Ann Wong Post-Show Facilitator Ambre Lee Production Manager Marilyn Chew Producer Cordelia Yeo Singapore Sign Language (SGSL) Access Team Faaiqah Alkaff (Deaf Interpreter), Patricia Marito (Deaf Interpreter), Evelyn Chye (Hearing Interpreter)