Revolutionary play

The New Crescent Moon Theatre Group to stage 'The 1932 Revolutionist'

08 May 2000

The play is about the Great Revolution, and is, in itself, a revolution for Thai theatre.

Khue Phu Aphiwat (The 1932 Revolutionist) is both a play about Pridi Banomyong's life and his (some would say failed) attempts to reshape Thai politics, as much as it is a historic turning point in modern Thai art.

Interestingly, the life of this play, considered one of the best Thai theatre productions ever produced, is closely intertwined with the subject matter, the late statesman Pridi Banomyong. Its debut performance in 1988, at Thammasat University (incidentally, an institution founded by Pridi), occurred on his birthday, May 11.

Seven years later, the play was re-staged as a fund-raising campaign for the Pridi Banomyong Institute. And this Friday night, as part of the national celebration of Pridi's centennial anniversary, the play will return to its original stage, at Thammasat's Small Auditorium, where it once held sway over 12 years ago.

In addition, the New Crescent Moon Theatre, under the leadership of Nimit Pipitkul, will take the show on a nation-wide tour, hoping to use theatre as a medium to propagate Pridi's life and ideologies.

How the play came about was a genuine tour de force for modern Thai theatre. Back then, most productions were based on either adaptations or literal translations of famous Western plays.

But Kamron Gunatilaka, a leading social activist during the turbulent 1970s, had a better idea. After the bloody crackdown on October 6, 1976, he took refuge in France, where he learned a variety of modern theatre techniques. (Curiously, Pridi also studied law in the same country.) Coming back to Thailand, Mr Kamron decided to conduct an "experiment" at Thammasat. In 1987, he arranged a theatre workshop that first drew several dozen aspiring thespians, but by the end of the session, only 14 remained. The participants were told they would collaborate on producing a play on Pridi, but neither directions nor scripts were handed out.

Weeks, then months, passed with rounds and rounds of drama exercises and training on what modern theatre was all about. Finally, Mr Kamron said it was time for all the participants to work together writing the script. To do so, the members of the yet unnamed theatre group had to do a lot of research on both the statesman's biography and his thinking, as well as his rise and demise on the rungs of power. To convey the message effectively, Mr Kamron opted for the Brechtian approach. This school of theatre, coined after Bertolt Brecht, the great German playwright, considers conventional drama as putting too much emphasis on the sensational bits at the expense of intellectual stimulation. A number of gimmicks have thus been crafted as a means to get the audience to "think" during and after a play.

The 1932 Revolutionist thus used a minimalist style of presentation, for a story that touches a vast array of topics and spans decades. Twelve actors, all except protagonist Pridi, took turns playing a variety of roles.

The original costumes were in black and white, while the acting itself was intentionally devoid of emotion. And yet the audience witnessing the play could not help but be moved by the play. As the curtain fell, they had a better appreciation of Pridi's contributions and sacrifices.

It came as no surprise that the first show met with enormous success. Both critics and audiences immediately praised The 1932 Revolutionist as a masterpiece of contemporary Thai drama. During the same year as the first performance, Mr Kamron and his troupe, now named the New Crescent Moon, after an influential group from the late sixties, re-enacted the play at the Silpa Bhirasri Institute of Modern Art in Bangkok, followed by two more shows in Chiang Mai and Pattani provinces. However, the surge in popularity of Thai theatre during the boom of the nineties saw The 1932 Revolutionist gathering dust on bookshelves. One had to read Mr Kamron's script and conjure up oneself the images of what the play must have looked like. During this time, Mr Kamron went to work as a director and looked after his own media business.

The only time the play was re-enacted was in 1995 as a fund-raiser. In fact, the rendition helped re-introduce the New Crescent Moon group, now among the country's prominent drama team with a strong record of many other successful plays. Mr Kamron himself retained the director's title until his retirement three years ago, giving way to Mr Nimit to take charge. (Mr Nimit is also the only actor who played in both the 1988 and 1995 versions.)So far, The 1932 Revolutionist has been staged both locally, at the Pridi Banomyong Institute in March 1999, and internationally. Through the assistance of Sulak Sivaraksa, who spearheaded the project to celebrate Pridi's centenary, the New Crescent Moon Theatre group has seen its play receiving big applause in Paris, Amsterdam, Stockholm, and the United States.

Under Mr Nimit's guidance, there have been some slight adjustments to the original version. The black and white costumes have been changed to grey, but Pridi's character, played by Mr Nimit himself, still retains his white costume. The sound system has become a little more sophisticated-with an addition of percussion and a typist (to convey the notion of history being recorded in print). Other changes include the toning down of some "sensitive" scenes that attack certain public figures. The overall allure is also a little more dramatic than the original. However, there has not been any single change to Mr Kamron's captivating script.

Pridi once said, "Human history does not mummify itself: It is not stagnant; and it does not end with any particular person or class. History travels forth into the future, providing lessons and insights for generation after generation. Interpreting history is relative to place, time, and culture. I leave it to those who cherish the truths to decide on what the truths really are."And thus will the value of The 1932 Revolutionist be tested-as both a play and a record of history in its own right.

Bangkok Post / Outlook