Vive La Revolution
The village of Weizhuang doesn't seem so foreign to us, even in this day and age.
Lu Xun's well-known main character from his classic novella The True Story of Ah Q receives a new lease of life in this excellent ensemble production. More specifically, it is the spirit of Ah Q that lives on in this devised performance, manifesting itself amongst the population of the Weizhuang, as The Story After Ah Q explores the state of the village after his death. Simply adapting this piece of renowned literature for the stage would have been profoundly challenging in itself, but the creative team and cast have opted instead to ask the bigger question: post-Ah Q, post-revolution, what then? The answer, alarmingly, seems to be that little has changed for the better, if anything at all. The Story After Ah Q proves as timeless as the original classic that inspired it, and the realization that the village of Weizhuang doesn't seem so foreign to us, even in this day and age, is a sobering one.
As the play opens, we are introduced to the idyllic Weizhuang (literally translated to mean "village yet to be") where the villagers lead a simple existence and there is always enough to eat. Above all, the people of Weizhuang love their land: the opening number I Am From Weizhuangis sung with such patriotic fervour, almost mocking in its extreme emotion. If this still does not convince us of the villagers' loyalty to their roots, we at least cannot deny their desire to convince us: though sung as an ensemble, they also seem to be trying to outdo each other individually, as if there were patriotism points to be earned. Along with the other larger-than-life song and dance numbers later in the performance, these are well executed moments of comedy that underscore the much graver message at hand.
We soon realize that despite its outwardly harmonious and peaceful appearance, Weizhuang is rife with gossip and speculation over the persona of Ah Q. The cast of eight portray different characters from the village, all of whom claim to know Ah Q and / or have had personal encounters with him during his lifetime. It is highly apparent that no one has a positive impression of him – Ah Q is described as scum, a liar, and ignorant, amongst other things – and the villagers conclude that they are now better off without such a fellow in their midst. As we get a deeper look at individual characters, however, it is evident that they are not so different from Ah Q after all. The "Ah Q spirit" is a universal one, and aspects of him continue to be embodied by the very same people who denounce him: small-mindedness, self-delusion, false moral superiority, chauvinism... the list goes on.
The individual characterizations of Weizhuang's populace are an absolute joy to watch. Each cast member brought such skill and believability to their respective portrayals that I am hard pressed to single out anyone as having done a better job than his or her counterparts, which is testament to the strength of this well-matched ensemble. The simple but effective stage design served to create a highly flexible space in which the actors illustrated the (d)evolution of the village: the river becomes a newly-paved road in Act Two, the large central platform doubles up as an ostentatious banquet table around which the villagers celebrate the empty successes of the revolution. It was all in all a space designed for play, and the fun that the actors had in the space was key to drawing in the audience. Kuo Jian Hong's lighting design also deserves a shout-out. Though integral in the creation of several wonderful tableaux as the story unfolds, it never once detracted our attention from the action onstage. One particularly powerful scene depicted the village in the throes of revolution, as shadows of the individual villagers cast on the back wall seemed to engulf their actual persons, making a mockery of their lofty promises to the cause. Revolutionary ideals remained intangible projections, while man remained within the limited reality of his being.
I wonder if the play could have been streamlined to shave some minutes off its almost two and a half hour-run time. The cast did a highly commendable job in keeping up the energy of the piece throughout, but there were inevitably moments where certain vignettes, although entertaining, did not add anything new or of value to the shape and storyline. For instance, the introduction of Small D's character felt slightly tacked on – he appears as another dissatisfied and disillusioned member of Weizhuang who vengefully poisons the river, and though we subsequently observe the effects of his actions, little is seen of him besides this one-off incident.
There is a wonderful unity that makes this play so satisfying to watch. By the time Weizhuang (village yet to be) is renamed Mozhuang (village of the end-times, almost), we know better than to anticipate a happy ending for this Ah Q-spirited population. After lauding themselves on surviving the huge flood at the end of act one, the second act ends with the powerful image of the villagers being consumed by fire. Tragically hilarious is the fact that they now have no means of putting the fire out since replacing the river with a road. Act two takes the play to a higher spiritual level (with the character of the White Reaper and the successful restructuring of hell to enable larger intakes of ghosts), where the audacity of man is demonstrated in his questioning of and contempt for "the Creator".
The Story After Ah Q does not require one to be familiar with Lu Xun's original novella. It does also sneakily reference the author's Diary of a Madman, but nevertheless it stands independently as a strong piece of theatre. But perhaps its true brilliance lies in the way that it manages to hold true to the tragicomic essence of Lu Xun's writing – the knack for juxtaposing what is most base (banter over bowel movements, the consumption of human meat being heralded as the zenith of civilization) alongside an elegance of delivery. There is a beautiful levity that is weaved into the depressing reminder of humanity's ugly and fallen nature, and it is this that makes this age-old message refreshingly palatable, instead of leaving the audience feeling like the play is simply flogging another dead horse.
The Story After Ah Q showcases some of the finest ensemble work I have ever seen in theatre. Under the direction of Hong Kong's Olivia Yan, this veteran cast presents the village of Weizhuang after Ah Q's death, where despite its idyllic appearance, gossip and speculation over Ah Q's character and fate are rife. Revolution, it seems, still hangs in the air.
Adapting the original The True Story of Ah Q by Lu Xun from page to stage would have been challenging enough in itself, but the team has boldly gone a step further to instead devise a piece that hinges upon the very absence of Lu Xun's classic main character. The resulting madcap adventure is well worth the effort.
After Ah Q might not deliver any new epiphanies regarding the 1911 revolution or the larger state of society today, but it does present its message in the most refreshing of ways.
All in all, despite my initial reservations about the two-and-a-half hour runtime, I have no regrets spending those hours in the village of Weizhuang.
Michelle Tan, 17 Sep 2011 (4.0 out of 5)