‘The One Who Loves You So’: Setting a new standard in originality
Thus far, it has been an excellent year for local theatre with directors pushing themselves to produce plays that tackle issues audiences aren’t always familiar with or comfortable talking about. Off the top of my head, ‘Every Brilliant Thing’ and ‘Fun Home’ provided a platform for conversations about mental health and sexuality, so ‘The One Who Loves You So’ finds itself in good company. An original piece written and directed by Arun Welandawe-Prematilleke, the play staged at the Punchi Theatre earlier this month follows Vidhura (Brandon Ingram), a wealthy trust-fund guy from Colombo, and Nick (Benjamin Aluwihare), a British expat who both meet on a dating app. I don’t think a one sentence summary would be enough to describe this show but at best the play is a delectable piece of queer art that follows the two men over four days as they engage in casual sex and conversations about their personal lives.
The stage set up involved two S-shaped platforms, moved around by a backstage crew who were incorporated into the show. The set also featured LED-framed windows and doors so that when the stage was coated in orange hues or was only lit by a solitary hot pink light during a sex scene, it resembled the interiors of a club. It was funky, sensual, and mysterious.
It matches the chemistry onstage between Vidhura who initially comes across as nervous in contrast to Nick who is more assertive. As the play progresses it becomes funny to watch them irk each other about their vulnerabilities and get touchy about things they’re not comfortable discussing. The conversations dwell on the obvious racial and cultural differences, the latter eliciting a monologue on the struggles of being gay in Colombo i.e lack of anonymity or trying to meet other gay people. But it doesn’t fall into the trap of feeling sorry for oneself. Vidhura’s own ignorance towards Nick’s bisexuality and his stance on open relationships perhaps explores the prejudice that comes from within the gay community. The play doesn’t aim to make anyone a victim. Just human.But that’s not to say the play isn’t light – it’s awkward and funny at just the right moments. When Nick starts discussing how the sex was, Vidhura recoils and says ‘Alright, alright no need Trip Advisor the s**t out of it.’
Both actors gave a solid performance but personally I felt Brandon Ingram carried his role with more finesse and ease – you get the sense he’s lived the experience. As it is a play driven mostly by dialogue and less by action, there were moments when the pace slightly dropped but thereafter gained momentum thanks to an excellent script.
Quite often, the aural landscape of a show is sometimes forgotten or given less prominence but here it almost functioned as a third character. In an Instagram post, Welandawe-Prematilleke talked about music being central to the process, ‘It was an early decision to only feature female voices and songs that were important to queer pop culture. The way these women have been misunderstood or mistreated by their industries, and the public, mirrors the gay community’s own struggles.’ Quite apt as it were – I entered the theatre to the sounds of Diana Ross’ ‘I’m Coming Out’ (itself an important LGBT anthem) which played alongside other popular contemporary songs in the pre-show music playlist. Perhaps it was also a subtle nod to club culture, a historically significant safe space for queer people. Elsewhere, the play explored ethereal, dreamy sounds (by way of Isuru Kumarasinghe’s expertly crafted sound design), mirroring the internal and external atmosphere of the characters.
But also this is probably the first time I’ve seen a local play observe and interrogate hookup culture and casual sex in Colombo. What do people seek out of such attachments? Is this a form of instant gratification? How does your sexuality intersect with this experience?There are a great many questions that perhaps don’t resolve themselves by the end of the play, but that’s fine – it’s maybe reflective of our nature as young adults where questions are continuously asked but never answered…we carry on regardless.
And therein lies the charm of this play, because beyond it being a very important moment in the canon of Sri Lankan queer art, it’s also simply a really good play. All parts of the production were skilfully executed and it just ticked all the boxes. My hope is that we see more original plays that continue to push the envelope – ‘The One Who Loves You So’ has certainly set a new standard.