“Another two-man drama for the last week of SIFA 2025?” You might be saying–but hear me out: Waiting For Audience is more than just that. Whereas A Thousand Stitches wows with all of its multimedia glory, Nine Years Theatre’s production takes a more subdued approach to its set design–precisely because it doesn’t need to be flashy.
Rather, it’s exactly these classic tricks of the trade that allow dynamic duo Nelson Chia and Mia Chee to tell their story effectively: one that lays everything bare to show its earnest, endearing love for theatre. The production’s unapologetic identity as an original local work also shines through in its script, perfectly encapsulating this year’s festival theme of More Than Ever, and what it means to know who one is.
Finally, as a bonus—since it’s in Mandarin—it brushed up my mother tongue! So, with all of that in mind and more, here’s what I liked (as an audience member!) in Waiting For Audience.
Review
Surtitles
Long-time readers may notice that, unlike the previous review, this article doesn’t feature an independent plot section–and that’s on purpose. See, to understand why the story and set of Waiting For Audience can’t be easily separated, it’s perfect—and likely intentional—that we start chronologically with the surtitles: the first character to appear, the best example of that very interplay, and my favourite actor!
No, they’re not played by either Nelson or Mia, but rather…stage manager Tennie Su! That’s right, although the surtitles may seem like just another part of the set, they’re actually sentient, evidenced by their immediate breaking of the fourth wall to introduce the play’s literal and contextual background.
However, beyond setting the scene of a dilapidated theatre slated for demolition—having not hosted a performance in a century—the surtitles display more independent thought by next reflecting on their own role and evolution from a diegetic and even extra-diegetic perspective.
Specifically, they claim to be the “voice of the space” because they’ve gone from being a mere tool of translation to a mighty participant in plays–and to that, I agree! Language is a powerful thing, and in a production not performed in the lingua franca, its translation holds immense influence over how the work is perceived, perhaps even more than the actual actors too!
So, to see the surtitles openly admit to its strength, blurring the lines between what is story and set? It’s fascinating, and totally in tune with Waiting For Audience’s intent of challenging the bond between performers and spectators. Plus, the surtitles clearly were made in PowerPoint, which honestly, is adorable.
Wordplay
Now, let’s shift to something totally less metaphysical: comedy! While HAL 9000 admittedly got a few chuckles with its musings, the real laughter truly kicked in once A (as played by Mia) and O (as played by Nelson) appeared and kicked off their routine with some wordplay.
Starting with their names: even those are clever puns! As A and O sound like onomatopoeic exclaimations in Mandarin, their meet-and-greet plays out exactly into a scene straight out of Rush Hour 3–albeit with no Chris Tucker.
Then, for another instance of this clever wit, look no further than when the actors find out they’ve both been swindled by a certain Mr Gan, who rented the theatre to each of them at the same time before promptly becoming uncontactable. In this case, his surname happens to be pronounced like a certain Mandarin-Hokkien expletive. So naturally, Nelson and Mia made full use of it to (not-so-subtly) express their characters’ frustrations!
And yes, while these examples are only of names, there was so much more banter flying around that would take paragraphs to explain but to be real, I don’t want to be that guy explaining the joke. What I actually am though is a writer, and as someone who knows the pain of making a double entendre land, the couple’s ability to pull multiple of them off in Mandarin is enviously unfathomable–so props to them.
Rivalry
Next, after learning they were screwed over, A and O nonetheless decide that the show(s) must go on–especially since both have already packed the house with the same “important stakeholders,” including the Director and Secretary of the Performing Arts, a Buddha foundation, and the likely lottery-inspired “SP Pools.” That’s hilarious, having similar position-holders and polar opposites as part of the guest list.
But instead of teaming up, the actors split the stage in half and begin warming up on their own: irritating, outdoing, and generally embarrassing one another to great effect. It’s a hysterical yet brilliant scene that fleshes out their personalities, shifting their relationship from outright animosity to, at best, a simmering rivalry–one that eventually culminates in what’s arguably the funniest section of the show, and perhaps even all of SIFA 2025: their rehearsals.
As it turns out, A and O have also both independently chosen to perform the same “Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow” soliloquy from Shakespeare’s Macbeth. And so with nothing else to differentiate their shows, they thus start taking turns reciting the lines in wildly different styles, much to the audience’s enjoyment.
From O’s dramatic old-man delivery in Hokkien to A’s terrifying housemaid-from-hell impression and a joint rap session that even had the surtitles spinning along, every Chinese rendition had the crowd in absolute stitches: a doubly ironic statement, considering that Macbeth is, after all, an English tragedy.
But while I do think their rivalry is most created for the kicks, I also think it’s meant to evoke something bigger–something that’ll we see in the next act.
Character Arc
But on the topic of tragedy: just as the performance hits a high, reality comes crashing in when one by one, every invitee of A and O pulls out, leaving the two actors waiting for an audience that never arrives. This mass rejection stings, and when they cast a despondent glance at the theatre’s empty seats, I found my eyes welling up with theirs too.
Luckily, it’s also in this moment that the surtitles regain their sentience. Through a heartfelt pep talk, they spur the disheartened actors into action to finish the unintentional performance they started, not for any audience, but rather for the venue itself. So the actors begin telling a tale.
In a village so small it has neither an inn nor a town square, a travelling storyteller settles in a forest clearing and invites its residents to hear his whimsical tales, after which he sets down a hat for donations. But nobody gives, for everyone assumes “somebody else will.”
With each passing session, fewer and fewer people show up, till only a little girl remains by the time winter arrives. Curious, she asks the storyteller why he keeps going despite earning nothing. He answers and states he tells stories not for the money, but rather for his audience. Eventually, though, even the little girl stops coming. But when spring returns and word of the storyteller’s reason spreads, the villagers are too late to give him a second chance–he’s gone.
At first glance, this story within a story may seem like nothing more than a sob story for the local underappreciated artist, and you wouldn’t be wrong. In fact, that’s been the whole crux of the actual theatre work too! But take a step back and consider how the story is being told, and something else begins to emerge.
For the first time since their introduction, A and O aren’t at odds. In fact, they’re genuinely working together, no longer scrapping for the spotlight, but actively pushing each other into it through improvisation and support.
It’s a far cry from the actors who once insisted on staying firmly within their own space. And fittingly, by the time they finish telling the tale, A and O have swapped sides, quite literally, standing opposite where they began. At last, the theatre and its voice—the surtitles—can finally rest, having watched its last show and solved it final squabble.
But just as the actors prepare to leave the theatre for the final time, A feels a buzz on her phone. It’s news: the government has decided not to demolish the venue after all, thanks to overwhelming public protests! The three of them erupt into celebration, cheering in pure elation–until another buzz drops a twist. The theatre won’t be torn down… but it will be converted into a trendy nightclub.
Cue the surtitles flashing a giant “Gan!” as horror floods A and O’s faces to the tune of Que Sera, Sera—and that’s the curtain call for Waiting For Audience!
Overall Thoughts
Truth be told, this layered masterpiece can never be done justice through the medium of text, and that’s a good thing. It shows exactly why theatre is irreplaceable, and for good measure, does so with the most accessible of set designs to all production companies.
But with the news of this production heading over to Milan, I’m sceptical if the local flavours of humour will translate well into the (hopefully as sentient) Italian surtitles. Though, if the overseas leg of Waiting For Audience is anything like mine, then I’d say our local arts scene has a worthy representative.
All in all, Waiting For Audience was a work I found myself obsessing over–in the best way possible. As a closing act for SIFA 2025, Waiting For Audience unexpectedly doesn’t try to be flashy or final. Among other modest props, it uses typical stage lights, simple costume changes, and a single bench to tell a million-dollar budget.
Essentially, it’s theatre that knows itself in the truest sense. Be through its tools, its history, or its longing for connection, every aspect of its identity is confidently covered in its pursuit to ironically, find who it truly is. Just like the surtitles, its almost as if its self-aware, because what could more human than waiting in the spotlight? Not just to be watched, but to be understood.
So, with SIFA 2025 officially done and dusted, revisit the festival’s official website and Instagram, plus Art House Limited’s TikTok and YouTube to look back at all of its offerings.
Finally, if you haven’t checked out our review of The Sea and the Neighbourhood, do like what A and O did and finish what you started by reading about how the festival kicked off. With that said, it’s been a pleasure covering this year’s edition, and I hope to see you and all of these wonderful artists next year at SIFA 2026!
Visuals Courtesy of Crispian Chan.
