Love Actually

The four actors brought a human touch to the tales of love and departure. Photos courtesy of 8×8 Troupe

At first glace, the new play by Nikorn Sae-tang, Wan Bok La (Goodbye My Love), suggested that it would deal either with a dark, inconsolable romance or soap opera-like melodrama. Instead, the play features different shades of love when one departs their beloved. It was as if the director/writer Nikorn, noted for his original writing, was falling in love again — more or less — with recounting his personal experiences.

The one-hour play appears as a collage of seven mini-stories intertwined under the theme of “departure”. A daughter’s eulogy at her father’s funeral; a former lover’s encounters with possible return; a man’s monologue about parting with his beloved pet; a young man leaving a friend with whom he has shared a small flat; a woman’s lament for the loss of her teacher. Four actors convincingly take turns doing different roles that compel the audience to laugh and cry.

But it was the last two gigs that made the play memorable. First, two actors walked around the 30-pax venue and asked the audience members — one by one — to partake in the play by reading the script line-by-line, as if they were exchanging messages on Line. Then they asked the audience, what if the conversation took place in real life? Relying on the same script read by the audience, the other two actors gave a dramatic and impressive performance as a couple breaking up from their relationship. Not only did the audience feel engaged with the play, but it also somehow felt like they were making the play themselves through the reinvention of such Line dialogue.

The four actors brought a human touch to the tales of love and departure. Photos courtesy of 8×8 Troupe

In the final story, we were taken to a wedding-like party, which later turned out to be a parting party. The logic is this: “We witnessed their marriage — why not their divorce and friendly parting?” While the tone of the first five stories are a mix of bittersweet and glumness, the last two parts spiced up the ambience, creating more laughter and fun. It is clear that Nikorn is reconnecting with a traditional way of recounting ordinary stories, with new, thoughtful perspectives, which has become rare in Thai theatre, at least during the past decade.

While the choice of music — from Western classics to Chinese songs, but no Thai — used to connect the seven stories can appear randomly selected, they all give a similar tone of bittersweet longing. The smart use of four large mobile steel frames allows actors to generate their imaginary settings, varying from a simple door to the funeral shrine, and from apartments that come in different sizes to a party venue to bid goodbye to love.

Nikorn’s new play does not appear as the symbolism-filled gimmickry that many new troupes enjoy doing these days. Instead, Wan Bok La‘s charm lies in its simplicity and honesty, its humanist touch, through stories of everyday life that any audience can easily identify with. It reminds us that a feel-good theatre experience can naturally emerge from simple yet meaningful storytelling enhanced by appropriate acting.

This source first appeared on Bangkok Post Lifestyle.