Power and passion in this 'Silence'

Originally titled "The Crutch", Ruwanthie de Chickera's play had the double pedigree of an international award and a staging in the West End of London prior to its being unveiled to Colombo on the less hallowed but still venerable boards of the Lionel Wendt Theatre. The play had been hyped up to this columnist so much that attendance seemed not so much a choice but an obligation in the interest of my own betterment and furtherance.

Leaving the sarcasm behind, though, it can truly be said that if anything, the hype was understated given the power and excellence of The Middle of Silence. This production scored on several fronts: the acting was superlative, the set and lighting clever in its austerity and the writing of a very very high standard indeed.

Ruwanthie de Chickera is still merely a spring chicken in terms of time on this earth but her prose displays a wisdom and insight well in advance of her years. Above all, she appears to have the knack of isolating snapshots from real life and transferring the frozen images into the lines she gives her characters. In this work she most eloquently conveys the realities of life in Colombo; the petty vagaries, the class consciousness amongst even the lowest stations in life, the superficiality of the middle classes and the despair of the poorest of the poor.

The story is not an entirely unknown one: middle class man elopes with the neighbours' domestic and is abandoned by his family. In this case though, Ajith - said man - is in an even more miserable situation as he is crippled following an accident. His wife, Nandha ekes out half a living collecting cardboard on the streets and the pair live in a filthy hovel plagued by rats and roaches. Ajith is at first the source of a certain amount of moral confusion for the audience. On the one hand he is disabled and slowly going mad, caught up in a situation from which he cannot escape. On the other hand he is an absolute beast of a man: sly, manipulative, utterly cruel with casual ease and a self-pitying wastrel to the core. Nandha is equally dichotomous in the conscience of the watcher: devoted to her husband to the point almost of divine reverence, she bathes his sores and takes his abuse as if it were her due, as if their situation were her fault by virtue of her position on the lowest rung of the social ladder.

For the majority of the play, watching the interaction between Ajith and Nandha was like seeing a cat torture a bird it has trapped whilst it tries to decide when to kill it. The act of torture is as enthralling and compulsive as the actual killing itself. Ajith toys with Nandha, playing on her devotion to hurt her; he lapses into a wistfully nostalgic recollection of how they met, his voice tender and gentle, he draws her close and the pathetically tragic joy at being loved in Nandha's eyes is snuffed out like a candle as Ajith hurls her away from him like so much rubbish screaming at her that she stinks, that she is ugly, that she is ignorant, that no one would ever have her; and the gloating satisfaction at her misery instantly destroys any sympathy one could muster for the man.

Ruwanthie de Chickera develops her characters subtly throughout the course of the play. The plot is very much secondary to the characterisation and the writer is wise in not trying to do to much with the story line at the expense of her dramatis personae. Instead, she uses three smart cameos to underscore her observance of human nature in general and the Sri Lankan mentality in particular. The hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold and a grass rooted take on the realities of life - (to Nandha: "...we have nothing and we have it in common"); the crate-by-the-roadside mudalali whose inbred sense of classism leads him - a guttersnipe himself - to treat the more impoverished Nandha with even greater contempt than Ajith does; and the latter's siblings whose Middle Class terror of social stigma and condescendingly ignorant attitude towards the less fortunate are in direct contrast to their own slovenliness (the two year old mango stain down the front of the sister's housecoat - nice touch); all of these minor characters play a major role in getting the playwright's point across like a slap in the face. No doubt many a Colombo housewife in the audience cringed inwardly at the reflection of themselves in the spectacle of Ajith's sister and her housecoat conversing across the wall with the next door "aunty".

The cameos are smoothly interwoven with the interaction between the main characters in a series of flashbacks which make good use of stage space and imaginative lighting - a testament to the experience of director Jerome de Silva and the merits of a competent crew. The set is starkly realistic and the stage positively reeks of poverty and despair. However, no stage set can give even writing as good as this any expression and the quality of the acting did justice to the power of the script. The smaller-role players were very good: no ham acting as support players in Sri Lanka are usually wont to do, and no attempts to upstage the lead actors: the supporting cast very professionally did just that - support - and provided an aspect to this play that is almost always lacking in other productions in this country.

Tracy Holsinger as the hooker turned in a performance of such bawdiness that the doyens of the old London Dancehall days would have beamed with pride. She sashayed across the stage leering at the audience, munching on betel and scratching at her nether regions with all the grace one could expect from her character: a heading-over-the-hill streetside vesi. Sanith and Samantha de S Wijeyeratne were very good as the mudalali and the sister respectively, the latter turning in a performance as tongue-in-cheek in its own right as Tracy Holsinger's. Krishan Jayaratnam was suitably blustery as the brother and Timothy Seneviratne suitably sheeplike as the mudalali's golaya.

Nadia Dawood is a very capable young actress. Her performance in the first fifteen minutes or so was somewhat stilted but she warmed up as she went along and struck a fine chemistry with her leading man so that her performance at the end was delivered with the assurance of someone far more experienced. In many ways, the actress's growing in confidence through the play was apt, as this is essentially the development of the character of Nandha, who grows in adversity from a timid browbeaten girl to a strong woman, turning her position of weakness before her husband to one of dominance over him.

Ruwanthie de Chickera makes the point here that the test of true strength is absolute desperation; spliced into this is the nudge in favour of her own sex: at the end of the day, Ajith is unable to bear his misfortune whereas Nandha sinks ever lower - joining the happy hooker on the streets - and finds her courage in the depths of her own degradation. Fair enough point and perhaps an extremely important one in this part of the world where women are traditionally treated as weaker and inferior in the face of rather a lot of evidence to the contrary.

The star of the show though, and an absolute revelation in this role was Jehan Aloysius as Ajith. Having attended a good many plays in Colombo, this reviewer has become somewhat accustomed to seeing Jehan Aloysisus play vaguely infuriating characters with not much substance to the part. However, as the compulsive, cruel Ajith this young man turned in a performance of absolute intensity, playing a very demanding role to near perfection. One of the contradictions in the character of Ajith is his physical presence despite his physical debilitation. Jehan Aloysius is a tall man and he used his frame to good effect, dragging himself across the stage with all the ferocity that filled Ajith's self-pitying rage. His eyes burned with the same intensity as his movements and his entire performance was one of a man burning incandescent against the very life that fills him. This has to have been one of the best performances by a male actor on a Sri Lankan stage in a long time and is comparable to Rohan Ponniah in Anna Weiss in its passion and in the acting talent on display. One can only hope that there are more worthwhile roles of this nature on offer for this very good actor.

English language theatre in Sri Lanka may well be growing up at long last; more of the same please..

Bowling them over

Wathsala Mendis discovers a new pastime for young and old

Tired of playing the same old game? Ever found yourself wondering what to do, where to go on a weekend, when you've got that urge to try something new, exciting, fun, and adventurous? Well, Wonderworld Indoor Entertainment Playground at Colombo's Majestic City may have just what you want.

Wonderworld offers fun-loving youth the chance to try their hand at a game of Skittles in the first ever Bowling Alley to be set up in Sri Lanka. Did I say youth? No, not necessarily. The game is simply irresistible. Grown-ups would find it hard just to stand by and watch the kids or the youngsters at play and not step in and try it themselves. And once you start you can't stop. It's addictive.

What is it all about? Skittles or ten-pin bowling, though a relatively new concept in Sri Lanka, is a game in which ten pins (or skittles) are set up at the end of a long alley and bowled down with hard wooden or rubber balls. You can take 10 turns at the ball. The game is also sometimes played with nine skittles. For each pin you knock down you earn three points. The more pins you manage to knock down at each attempt, the higher the score, the highest being 300 points.

Bowling is definitely a crowd-puller. The excitement you feel the moment you step on to the enclosure and the sense of achievement experienced with each pin you bowl down are simply contagious. It's impossible just to stand there and watch others play. You have to try it yourself. And going by the high price of party equipment, one would be surprised to learn that it costs only Rs. 50 for a go.

On weekends, Wonderworld is crowded - young and old alike queuing up to take their turn at the game. There are regulars, especially young boys who come in their numbers, according to the attendants, for it promises an evening of fun-filled entertainment.

"It's the first time I came here and now I'm hooked. Man, there's nothing quite like it!" gasped 28-year-old Dillan, flushed and breathless with excitement. He had seen it on TV and was determined to come and find out for himself what it was all about.

For Gayathri, a fifth grader at Wycherley International, it was one of her friends who'd told her of the place. Gayathri was glad she'd decided to drop in with her five-year-old sis who was as excited as she was.

Oh yeah, fun and excitement go hand in hand with skittles. And the craze is catching on amazingly fast. What's interesting about this game is that it's not just the players who enjoy it, but the onlookers as well.

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