A mind-blowing experience                                                                                                               

The Day Will Come – review

 Produced by Centre Stage Productions Directed and written by Jehan Aloysius                                

By Shabna Cader
This was the first time I actually went to see a play done by Jehan Aloysius. I’m told that his work usually consists of much music and is bright and colourful. But I was also told that this play was very different to what he has done before. All right, I said to myself, I’m ready for this.

‘The Day Will Come,’ is a futuristic play. It is the story of a young dictator in the future who passes a radical law to gas everyone over the age of 55 in order to solve the issue of over-population. The result is a war on the elders in the society which leads to a group of ‘geriatric rebels’ taking refuge in an abandoned factory.

The idea of gassing elders over the age of 55 to me seemed like a very realistic concept. Who knows if such a ‘law’ could be implemented in the near future? Scary thought but definitely a possibility with the current explosion of population world-wide!

In a way the story and the plot itself was very morbid, as from the beginning of the play the audience is surrounded by an atmosphere, sounds and feelings of death, stalking the hapless geriatrics. It lingered throughout the entire play and even afterwards in my mind. The dim lights heightened this mood. Yet in between, there were moments of simple joy and happiness shared by the characters that brought flashes of light to the play. The characters grew stronger as the story moved on, gradually becoming larger than life and coming out of their shells, until at the end the play is charged with intense emotion..

Their raw emotions, their tears and the cracks in their voices at sorrowful moments could be felt deeply and truly felt by the audience. It was heartbreaking to watch the elders struggling to survive against so many odds, and living in constant fear of the young, wondering when they might be the next victims of the deadly gas.

Personally I thought that each of the characters were portrayed to near perfection by the actors both male and female. Mohamed Adamaly as ‘Abraham’ was the right choice for the role he played as someone in control and focussed. “Urikson’, a cynic, who was never satisfied with anything, and didn’t trust the others around him, even though deep inside he had much love to offer, was also played well by Shanaka Amarasinghe..

The only family unit present in the story, was that of ‘Josephus’ and ‘Sophia’ portrayed respectively by Rajive Ponweera and Natalie Blacker. The simple feeling of love that they continued to feel for each other and the constant reminder that they shared their love towards the rest of the elders around them was a joy to see, and lifted the play from its gloomy atmosphere. Prasad Pereira as the bachelor ‘Adam’ also gave a credible performance in his role as an honest caring person. ‘Eveline’ the newest addition to the elders hiding underground was portrayed by Wanda Godlieb who was perfect for the part both in her appearance, and sudden outbursts of sheer terror and madness.

Those who have lost their loved ones must surely have been touched by the performance of Sophia( Natalie) who lost her son in the battle between youth and age.. Her lullaby, soft and slow, sung in the heartbreaking voice of a mother lulling her baby to sleep had me nearly in tears..

How secure are the elders from their own children? Who can they really trust? The frustration builds as the story moves on and controversy arises between certain characters. They must learn to defend themselves if they are to be found out and they must learn to put up with one another though they may be at the throats of each other.

Their only ‘connection’ with the rest of the world is through their portable television and radio set. ‘BL’ a youngster who provides them food in exchange for their belongings, portrayed by Geethicke de Silva, is also another door to what the outside world looks like. He describes the developing world with much enthusiasm as any teenager would, and the elders hang on to his every word. But in time to come, they hold him captive and plan on using him as their ‘weapon’ to defend themselves from the young dictator, ‘Enoch’ himself.

Sashane Perera as ‘Enoch’ was tremendous as his character too evolved and grew as the plot moved on; a young dictator with an extraordinary idea, he is finally seen as one who is afraid of his idea itself!

Tall statuesque Michelle Herft as ‘Enitha’, Enoch’s personal assistant is typical of the modern feminist who hates men. Her future prediction about Enoch himself ageing and dying by the very tool ( poisonous gas) which he uses on his elderly victims comes true as it ‘accidentally’ kills them both at the end of the play.

The horrible realization of the futility of life was conveyed realistically by Enoch during the last moment of his life, when he has an illusion of what it might have been like if the so- called radical law hadn’t been passed on. But one cannot regret one’s actions in such a moment in one’s life. Live and regret; or as in this case, die regretting.

There were mixed reviews after the play was over as the audience mingled with one another and shared their thoughts on the play. Some commented saying that the play was too serious, while others thought that as a futuristic play, it was more suited to the new generation. Overall the acting was excellent and the sets and lighting very effective.

In spite of these mixed reviews , good and bad, in my opinion, it was a fantastic play. The script was well-written; the characters were brilliant and the direction mind-blowing. Hats off to Jehan Aloysius and CenterStage Productions for a well done job!

****

‘No direction home’ by Nelun Harasgama

Nelun Harasgama’s latest work titled ‘no direction home’, opens at the Barefoot Gallery on June 17.
“Harasgama has painted for most of her life and has developed a style of elegant works, both contemplative and meditative in nature,” writes a critic of her previous work.

The oil on canvas paintings features her distinctive work. Speaking of her current work, Nelun says, “The paintings are about how we think we are doing so much in our lives, but it turns out that it’s just the settings that seem to change. It’s just like in the old movies, where the actor remains static and the background changes. Life is just like that.”

Her work is also currently on display at the Gallery Art Korner in the Dutch city, The Hague, showing the paintings and drawings of eight contemporary Sri Lankan artists.

Harasgama has been drawing and painting since childhood at Cora Abraham’s Art College. Her first solo exhibition was in 1994 at the Lionel Wendt Gallery. Subsequently, she has exhibited at venues such as Heritage Gallery with her more recent exhibitions at the Barefoot Gallery.
The exhibition will be on till June 29.

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Vendors of yesteryear

By D.S. Joseph
This is a real life account, where I recollect some simple folk who made my childhood interesting, as they made visits to my neighbourhood. These events unfolded about 22 years ago in Kotahena, when I resided down St. Benedicts Mawatha, where the Cathedral dedicated to St. Lucia stood in its celestial splendour, in a predominantly Catholic area

It was a beautiful era, perhaps the final episode of old time Ceylon, where people interacted with their fellow human beings. Here is the story of those colourful vendors who struck hard bargains and left behind memories for a lifetime.

The first such person was the Baker, his legs decorated with varicose veins, who used to herald his presence by the cheerful proclamation of pang pang. The basket which he used to balance on his head held within culinary delights for us children – sugar coated buns, kimbula buns, crisp tarts oozing with jam, doughnuts bathed in cream and rock cake. Some older citizens opted for the golden brown roast pang loaves. The Baker was indeed most welcome during tea time.

Then there was that industrious old man who responded to the name of Baron Aiyya. Clad in his khaki shirt and sarong, he effortlessly pushed his cart laden with coconuts and king coconuts, which he shook vigorously to keen housewives, to prove their degree of freshness. This worthy man wielded a sharp knife with which he used to slice through the king coconuts with dexterity. Baron did quench our thirst many times over.

Saturday morning saw the arrival of Biththara Nona – the lady who sold eggs from her own little farm in Ragama. Given her colossal figure, my sister and I used to think that she ate most of the eggs herself! Why, she even sold duck and turkey eggs. Sometimes she used to bring little chicks and sell them to us. The tranquillity of our lane was disturbed now and then as the Broom Seller pushed his cart and brooms and mops swayed to the gentle breeze. Within this cart’s chamber were handmade rugs and canes. The latter product was dreaded by us children.

Our vitamin supplements were enriched further as Palathuru Uncle bestowed all manner of seasonal fruits on us at good prices. I, however, used to think that the wiry figure of this individual needed a mega portion of many vitamins. The rainy weather was the time for the Umbrella repair man who stitched them like Silas Marner from Raveloe. I cannot forget the one-eyed Knife sharpener who used to wheel in his mobile cutting station and add zest to many worn out blades.

The bullock drawn Kerosene oil cart with its crimson hue was a welcome sight. My friends used to consider this cart as a chariot and lay in ambush wielding plastic and wooden swords, the deep impact of reading the ladybird version of Robin Hood. The massive black bull never seemed to even acknowledge our presence!

Our desire for sweets was made even stronger by the visit of Dodol Achchi – a pleasant old lady who sold Kalu dodoal, Muscat and helapa. How we wished she was here now, especially when friends from overseas yearn for such delicacies.

Clad in his white sarong was the handy man George Aiyya a hard working soul who obliged every request thrust upon him. He built and demolished with the same carefree attitude. He fancied cutting trees as he smoked that primitive cigar with a stench – the beedi. A tot of arrack was a sure way to increase his output.

Our old newspapers and bottles did not escape the Bottle man. His beetle stained red teeth, set amidst a large black face, gave this worthy a sense of fear normally reserved for Frankenstein.

A variety of gram displayed in a glass showcased cart, complete with a glowing lamp, was the hallmark of the friendly Kadaley man. He dished out spoonfuls of savoury gram, garnished with coconut and fried red chillies and was much welcome by those uncles who used to refresh their spirits with arrack.

Finally the king of the vendors was the crafty Parana Coat man who traded his plastic items for nearly new clothes and other merchandise. He would certainly put Shylock to shame with his bargaining skills.
So these were the folk, many on the other side of the shore, who made our ordinary days into something special in their down-to-earth ways.

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