Timely tale about forest conservation and co-existence, brought to life with an immersive set, winsome performances and delightful puppetry.

Duration: 55 min

What makes someone a hero? Is it having superpowers, being fearless, or simply having the courage to stand up for someone who needs help? For Ying, the young protagonist of Nine Years Theatre’s latest children’s production, the answer is rather simpler: sometimes, being a hero just means choosing to care.

Following two outings into the sea with Phinny & Wally, Nine Years Theatre now moves to land, specifically, the forest, for The Forest Heroes. Written by Cherilyn Woo, who also penned both iterations of Phinny & Wally, and directed by Isabella Chiam, the 55-minute Mandarin production follows Ying (Seah Janice), a young girl living in a village on the fringes of the forest who dreams of becoming a superhero. The only problem is that, like any other child, she has homework to do, a protective mother, and a little terrified of going beyond her comfort zone.

That changes when she discovers a baby elephant wandering into her backyard in search of bananas. Rather than run away, Ying befriends the creature, names her Fu, and tries to keep her hidden from the villagers. But the villagers are less than pleased by the elephants’ incursions into their homes and farms, blaming them for eating their crops and becoming a nuisance. When Ying’s mother (Ng Mun Poh) discovers Fu, the friendship is put to the test.

It’s a simple premise, but The Forest Heroes makes surprisingly good mileage out of it. More importantly, Woo’s script uses that friendship to introduce children to questions that are much bigger than Ying and Fu themselves: what happens when human needs come into conflict with nature? What happens when forests disappear and animals lose their habitats? And what does it mean to protect someone when doing so means standing up to the people around you?

Among Nine Years Theatre’s children’s theatre works, third time’s a charm. The Forest Heroes feels fresh in its new setting, and is arguably the company’s strongest children’s production yet, thanks in no small part to the strong creative team assembled around it.

Woo’s script never becomes an environmental lecture. Instead, ideas of deforestation, habitat loss, human-wildlife conflict and the need for coexistence emerge naturally through Ying and Fu’s relationship, and the eventual climax they face together. There is even room for the perspectives of the villagers, rather than simply casting all humans as the villains. When Ying’s mother eventually learns more about what is happening in the forest, her own perspective shifts, and the story makes space for the uncomfortable reality that conservation is rarely as simple as good versus bad.

The education begins even before the performance itself. Led by Teo Peisi, the pre-show engagement session gathers children around a board depicting a giant pair of green lungs, introducing them to the importance of forests and the role they play in our ecosystem through games and activities. It’s a thoughtful way of contextualising the production, particularly for children who may never have encountered a forest beyond picture books or screens. Nine Years Theatre has also found ways to extend that engagement beyond the stage, thanks to their partners who encourage the children to speak Mandarin for a free gift, to the usual collaboration with Pek Sin Choon on a special tea for the production.

Then, stepping into the Drama Centre Black Box, Lim Wei Ling’s set design transforms the space almost completely. Children sit on cushioned flooring marked out with circles, while adults have wooden benches and foldable chairs, creating a layout that feels carefully considered without imposing too much separation between audience and performers. All around them is a lush Southeast Asian forest: hanging leaves, vines, banana leaves and, at the centre of it all, a charming bamboo house belonging to Ying and her family. Shredded recycled paper made from magazines and newspapers fills parts of the space, an especially nice touch that reinforces the production’s environmental messaging without feeling too didactic.

Chiam’s direction makes good use of this immersive environment. The opening stretches a little as it establishes the world and builds the relationship between Ying and Fu, but once the friendship takes root, the production finds its rhythm. There is plenty of humour in Ying’s increasingly desperate attempts to hide Fu, including some nicely timed physical comedy, before the story moves into more emotional and tense territory.

The production’s simplicity also allows its theatrical flourishes to land particularly well. When Ying and Fu become lost, a firefly on a stick floating through the darkness becomes a small but genuinely magical moment. Later, as the forest comes under threat from deforestation, falling leaves accompany the sounds of trees being cut down. And when the deforesters eventually arrive in their bulldozers, shadow puppetry and silhouettes make them appear to loom ever closer, accompanied by Faith Liu Yong Huay’s lighting design and Sandra Tay’s soundscape. You know, of course, that none of it is real. But for the children watching, it very clearly is.

This is where the production succeeds most. The simplicity of the story makes it easy for its young audience to follow, but the immersive staging gives them plenty to respond to. Children spontaneously yell out when a character is searching for someone, shouting directions from their seats, and when it comes time to confront the deforesters, the entire theatre erupts in a chorus of protest. Some of the younger children even seem genuinely frightened at moments, which, in its own way, is a testament to just how effectively the production draws them into its world.

The three performers are equally game. Seah Janice is instantly likeable as Ying, striking the right balance between the wide-eyed uncertainty of a child and the growing courage that the character needs to develop. She makes Ying winsome enough that we want to root for her, while giving her journey towards standing up for Fu a convincing emotional progression, going from protecting Fu from her mother’s broomstick to standing in the way of actual bulldozers.

Ng Mun Poh is equally enjoyable as Ying’s mother, capturing the exasperation of a parent without reducing her to a one-note antagonist. Her concern for Ying remains evident beneath her anger, particularly when she notices that the family is struggling with food. Ng also doubles as the neighbour aunty whose sweet potatoes have gone missing, creating a distinctly more bumbling and comic character that makes for a fun contrast.

Genevieve Tan, meanwhile, gets perhaps the most technically demanding role of the three. As Rong, another boisterous child, she is suitably energetic, but it is when she becomes Fu that she really impresses. Puppeteering the elephant almost entirely on her own, she disappears into the creature, manipulating its trunk to pick up objects and giving Fu an endearing physicality, complete with the requisite elephant noises. Bright Ong’s elephant puppet is expressive enough to support that performance, but it is Tan’s commitment to the role that makes Fu feel like a character rather than simply a puppet.

If there is a slight weakness, it is that the production takes a little while to get going. The early exposition and establishment of Ying and Fu’s relationship could perhaps be tightened, especially for younger viewers. But once the story moves into the forest and the stakes begin to rise, The Forest Heroes finds a pleasing balance between humour, wonder and genuine tension.

It also feels particularly timely. With policies surrounding sustainability and the protection of Singapore’s natural spaces remaining subjects of ongoing discussion, whether in our forests or surrounding marine environments, The Forest Heroes arrives as a gentle reminder that conservation is ultimately about the way we choose to live alongside the natural world.

And that is what makes this a particularly good Nine Years Theatre production. It does not need to make its message complicated, just tell a straightforward story about a girl and an elephant, gives children plenty of opportunities to laugh, shout and participate, and leaves them with a simple idea: nature is not simply something that exists for our use, and sometimes protecting the vulnerable requires a little courage. It’s a short, sweet and uncomplicated work that once again, acts as a good introduction to Mandarin theatre for young audiences, one that hopefully leaves children wanting to return to the theatre, and perhaps a little more curious about the world outside it, and inspired by the magic the creative team has created in the black box. Most of all, one hopes that the young audience will be inspired by Ying’s story, eventually achieving her dream of becoming a hero not because of superpowers, but because she chooses to care and act to protect those around her.

Photo Credit: Grace Baey, Courtesy of Nine Years Theatre

The Forest Heroes runs from 11th to 27th September 2026 at the Drama Centre Black Box. Tickets available from BookMyShow

Production Credits

Playwright Cherilyn Woo Director Isabella Chiam Cast Seah Janice, Genevieve Tan, Ng Mun Poh Puppeteers Gillian Ong, Jeannette Irabu Producer Mia Chee Script Translator Nelson Chia Set Designer Lim Wei Ling Lighting Designer Faith Liu Yong Huay Sound Designer Sandra Tay Puppet Designer, Builder & Consultant Bright Ong Props Designer & Maker Cindy Sng (CS Props) Education & Engagement Lead/Facilitator Teo Peisi Production Manager Jeannette Irabu Stage Manager Anne Lee Assistant Stage Manager Gillian Ong