A
Dictator revived and enjoyed
A review of the drama 'The Dictator':
by Dilshan Boange
Vintage stage plays of the Ceylonese English comedy genre must not
fade to static antiquity as outdated scripts. Veteran dramatist and
actor Namel Weeramuni and the 'Namel Malini Punchi Theatre' must be
applauded wholeheartedly for bringing to life the classic Ceylonese play
'The Dictator' by playwright H.C.N de Lanerolle. This production had a
show run of 6 days from October 20 to 25 at the Punchi Theatre in
Colombo.
The costumes and stage set design was very masterfully done and
deserves praise and resounding applause. The production was very eye
catching and visually delightful. The only snag was that the bottle from
which the protagonist poured his dark 'local liquor' was a bottle of 'Absolut
Vodka'. An old bottle of arrack would have unquestionably served the
purpose best.
The talent on stage on closing night must be noted had the benefit of
veterans like Wijerathne Warakagoda, Daya Tennekoon and Malini Weeramuni
alongside debutantes to the Sri Lankan stage -Pinnya Samarathunga,
Prabath Devindra, Purnima Pilapitiya and Pradeep Kumara. It would be
untrue to say that there was perfect symmetry of acting talents forming
the fabric of performance, but it must be stated that the overall
casting was done well and every player delivered his/her character
commendably to contribute towards achieving a successful performance. In
this light, the director Namel Weeramuni must be congratulated along
with his cast.
The story is set in the backdrop of World War II when the threat of a
Japanese invasion loomed large in the minds of the people as well as the
British colonial administration. The protagonist is Nanayakkara
Mudiyanselage Brumpy Gunadasa, a local official generally known as 'Ralahamy'.
A man steadfast in the old ways and unshakably confident in the
strengths of his native intelligence, Ralahamy declares that he is more
than able to offer military strategies to the Allied Forces to defeat
the Axis Powers. The action gets into gear when Ralahamy is declared
'the Dictator of Ceylon' to ensure a full proof plan for national
defence is implemented under his infallible command. What happens
afterwards spurs a riot of laughter as the most unorthodox, yet
superlatively effective methods for combating the threat of the invading
'Japs' and paving the way for resurgence of Sri Lankan greatness is
gradually revealed and put into effect.
Misplacing English words
Enunciating 'fiascos' for 'frescoes' and 'stimulation' for
'emulation' and 'impotent' for 'important', this play, like the classic
Ceylonese drama, 'Well Mudaliyar, how?' plays partly on the hilarity
engendered through mishearing, misunderstanding and misplacing English
words. And when you really look at who is being laughed at for getting
'his English wrong' we see in the veins of these kinds of plays the
colonial mindset at play. The late H.C.N de Lanerolle as a playwright
has deftly captured the very pulse of an era of colonial thinking while
offering a subtext of critique that has greater value to the post
independence generations who are believed to be a 'postcolonial people'.
In studying this play one must note that inscribed in Ralahamy's
character is a message about how the old Sinhala leaders showed
deference to, with firm conviction in, the beliefs and systems of our
forefathers and the heritage of traditional knowledge. And that a true
son of the soil will not succumb to the colonial ploy of vilifying and
ridiculing our heritage of the 'occult' as rustic ritualism with no
basis of 'scientific merit' and unworthy of serious consideration. It is
I believe in this age of 'post-colonial enlightenment' much food for
thought. Comedy is a very effective weapon of oppression when devised to
demean and vilify that which must be dismissed as 'laughable' due to
being 'nonsensical'.
When
Ralahamy explains his 'secret weapon' to disarm the infantry of the
Japanese imperial army, I could not help recall what I had read about
the 'The Battle of Pelusium' (525 B.C), where the armies of the
Achaemenid Empire defeated the armies of the Pharaoh of Egypt by
devising tactics that exploited the religious beliefs of the Egyptians.
And any patriotic solider of the Japanese imperial army will surely
desist for at least a moment before firing at an image of their divine
emperor! Between the laughs that spiral from that juncture in the drama
let us be conscious that Ralahamy's 'secret weapon' isn't completely
void of military tactical merit.
Anti-colonial patriot
When at the end Ralahamy awakens to reality it seems to suggest that
aspirations of the anti-colonial patriotic likes of Ralahamy are fated
to be no more than daydreams and not materialise to fruition in the real
world. There is truth to a certain extent on this line of criticism
since even now after independence the international system of commerce
and industry dictates we still remain in a neo-colonial predicament. And
one must note that at the point where Ralahamy is stabbed by a
knife-wielding assassin after his rousing speech of ardent patriotic
fervour to return to a way of life advocated by our forefathers, the
play issues what is most possibly its most significant warning as to
what could befall any genuine 'native statesmanship' that rejects the
westernisation of our country. If one in this day and age cares to look
beyond the screen of laughter, the truth is that as a patriotic people
our ancestors were in fact stabbed to silence in more than one way.
In this day and age, when western liberal thought is all the vogue
and rage among most of the English speaking urban middleclass I wonder
if this play might even seem 'reactionary' to some. After all there is
today an unfair penchant among some to decry any exaltation of the
merits of our olden national heritage ascribed to the glory of our
ancient 'Sinhala kings' as reflective of a 'racist' mindset. Whatever
the divide may be on the debate, watching 'The Dictator' with an open
mind is, I believe, salutary to grasp the deeper message for the need
for anti-colonial, national mindedness if we as a people are not to be
eternally under the yoke of western dictatorships.
I hope this successful play will return to the boards for another run
soon to delight theatregoers. It is a play for the whole family and this
genre of plays -'Ceylonese classics' must not be missed by the present
generation. The whole team behind this production deserve a round of
applause. Some of the notable offstage credits are Senaka de Silva
(Costumes), Buddhi Galappaththi (Make-up), Lal Harendranath (Set),
Jayathissa Alahakoon (Music), and Prabath Manohara (Lighting). I say
decidedly 'The Dictator' is a play all Sri Lankans should watch, and say
so with pleasure in this review, which is incidentally my fiftieth drama
review. |