Out of the sunlight

Panuwat interacting with the audience.

Every use of the word “sunlight” in Duncan Macmillan’s play Every Brilliant Thing, was replaced with “sunset” by director Pawit Mahasarinand in his Thai adaptation, which has just finished its run at Chulalongkorn University’s Sodsai Pantoomkomol Centre for Dramatic Arts last week.

If good translation means that, rather than a straightforward language conversion, a transformation that’s comfortable to the audience’s ears and context, then Pawit has done an excellent job, knowing that “sunlight” for Thais doesn’t necessarily hold the same significance as for those resident in countries where the weather is usually dark and cold. Such an apt adaptation of words and phrases abound in this production, and what was left for him as a director was finding the right actor who could single-handedly lead the whole thing throughout.

Premiered at Ludlow Fringe Festival in 2013, this production, originally by Paines Plough and Pentabus Theatre Company, centres on a character who looks back at his traumatic childhood when his mother tried to commit suicide and he tries to persuade his mum to look at life positively by making a list of “every brilliant thing” like “1. Ice cream. 2. Water fights. 3. Staying up past your bedtime and being allowed to watch TV”.

For this production, there are three versions to choose from: male, female or queer, depending on the night of showing. But because the story is essentially about a child grappling with a grave family issue, the question of the gender of actors here is essentially just providing a variety of actors to choose from.

For the queer version, it’s the flamboyant, partly blonde-dyed Panuwat Inthawat who starts the show by welcoming the audience into the theatre where the seating stands were set somewhat into a triangle, leaving an intimate central ground for Panuwat. Following the original stage direction, the lights are on and remain so throughout, and Panuwat begins by distributing scraps of paper with an entry from the “every brilliant thing” list, which he asks the audience to say out loud when he calls out the number.

This is not the only participatory part of the play, however, as when Panuwat begins reciting the list, referencing when his mother made her first attempt at suicide when he was seven years old, he calls out members of audience to act as characters in different periods in his life, from being the vet who had to put his dog down because it was too sick; a school counsellor; his dad; and his lover.

As he grows older, the list becomes more mature and they reflect each chapter he’s going through, for example: “1,857: Planning a declaration of love. 9,995: Falling in love. 10,000: Waking up late with someone you love.”

Having read the original script, Pawit’s adaptation has got everything needed for a feel-good and touching production, especially the detailed yet flexible stage directions.

With no problem on the translation front, either, the only thing left is the execution of the role by the actor. What Panuwat succeeds at is merging a sense of melancholy inside a troubled young boy with the positivity and sense of humour of a grown man. What’s almost always present, it must be noted, is a sense of anxiety in his acting.

One just didn’t know if that was part of him being that character or, in fact, not being entirely in control on stage.

This source first appeared on Bangkok Post Lifestyle.