Disclaimer: This review is part of my personal takes on the works presented at Pesta ARTI 2.0. The thoughts and opinions expressed here are solely those of the writer (i.e. me, myself and I) and do not reflect the views of the organizers, jury, or any affiliated parties. The intention is to engage critically with the work while supporting the growth of indie theater.
Team 6:
Written by Azril Suhaili
Directed by Lok Heng
First, allow me to vent. As usual, my ARTI routine: arrive at RS, wait for the house to open. Upon arrival, at the front of house (FOH), I was informed the show would start late. Good etiquette, if a show is delayed, it's only right to let the audience know. I asked, "How late?" The FOH said, "8.35PM." Honestly, that's not late at least by ARTI's standard. Based on previous ARTI 2.0 productions, start times have ranged from 8.36PM to 8.50PM, so 8.35PM still sounds promising.
Then it hit me: maybe he meant the house would open at 8.35PM. That's a bit late, considering the past five productions had house openings between 8.25PM and 8.29PM. (Yes, I actually take note of these timings, for fun.) Still, I appreciated the heads-up.
But here's the thing, when you give a new timing down to the minute, I will hold you to it. And I know how to check the clock. The house eventually opened at 8.46PM. That’s not 8.35PM. That's definitely late.
Look, I did my part: I arrived on time. I expect productions to honor their end of the bargain too, especially when they’re bold enough to specify the delay precisely. You can't just throw numbers around without the intention (or ability) to stick to them.
House finally opens, I head toward the space and surprise, surprise: no chairs. Well, technically, there were chairs but all occupied by juries and production team members. None spared for the general audience.
Now, I don't mind watching shows seated on the floor, I've done it plenty of times. But in those cases, the production usually offered limited seating options for those who needed it or made it clear beforehand that chairs wouldn't be provided.
The issue here isn't just comfort; it's the lack of options. Maybe you wanted to create a communal, shared experience by having everyone on the floor. That's fine. But you must consider: what about audience members who genuinely need chairs? Isn't the arts supposed to be about inclusion?
So when that happened, naturally, one thought crossed my mind: this show better be great.
Well, it was... okay. Just okay. Hence why I feel justified bringing up the late house opening and the lack of seating options. If the show had been great or even better, beyond excellent, I would have let it slide without a second thought.
It may seem like a small issue to some, but to me, theater isn't just about what happens on stage. It's about the entire experience from the ticket purchase, to the front-of-house, to the seating arrangement, to the performance itself. All of it comes together to shape the final satisfaction of watching a show.
Being faithful to time isn't some far-fetched demand. I’ve attended productions that are incredibly punctual. Yes, it can be done. It’s not asking for the moon and stars. And frankly, for any production team, it shouldn't be something new or surprising to expect.
With all that said, let’s talk about the play itself.
I was genuinely looking forward to it. Parallact Art’s previous works have ranged from decent to good, and I've always been able to see the passion and effort they pour into their art. They’re open to exploration and thoughtful in their creations and that sincerity really shows.
This production, in particular, kept actively engaging with me, reminding me to catch their show for ARTI 2.0. That personal touch, that extra effort to connect really set them apart from the other teams. And I appreciate it deeply.
So when it came down to choosing between their show and the other events happening on the night of 20 April, it was honestly an easy decision. I know it’s tough to personally invite every potential audience member, but I really think it’s a great approach for productions to consider.
The play is set in a distant future where, due to climate change, the world has reached a point where the sun never sets. Some people retreated into bunkers for safety, while others remained on the surface. Those who stayed risked becoming "zombies", not zombies in the traditional horror sense, but rather humans overtaken by hysteria, rendered mindless and stripped of their humanity.
We follow Syam and his daughter, Suria, who live in a cargo container, along with the heroic and very charming Dani at the New Sahara. Together, they are on a quest to find the Oasis, a rumored final safe haven that supposedly has everything one could ever need. Syam, Suria, and possibly Dani were once bunker dwellers, and according to Suria, it took twenty years before her father finally agreed to leave the bunker and search for the Oasis.
Life inside the bunker isn’t explored in much detail, but it’s hinted that the inhabitants were exposed to films, perhaps as a way to cope and maintain their sanity. This exposure might explain Suria’s obsession with making a film about zombies.
Suria’s age is somewhat ambiguous. Visually, she appears to be around 12 years old, but the reference to spending 20 years in the bunker raises questions. It’s possible that her development was stunted by the isolated living conditions and limited social interaction, causing her to behave and speak like a much younger child. Alternatively, the 20 years could refer to the amount of time Syam spent in the bunker, and Suria might have been born there. Either way, it doesn’t affect the story too much.
Why?
Because this is not a "why" story. From early on, it’s clear that Oasis di New Sahara takes the "what" approach, focusing on what is happening to the characters, unfolding events chronologically, scene by scene. There’s little lingering on the reasons behind the world's condition or the mechanics of how things came to be.
This seems intentional and it’s a smart move. A "why" approach is much riskier, because it demands detailed worldbuilding, airtight logic, and internal coherence. The more you dig into the why, the more you risk exposing contradictions, plot holes, or breaking the audience’s suspension of disbelief.
By focusing on the "what," the story’s momentum takes center stage. As long as the plot has a strong arc, with key moments (like twists, escalations, and resolutions) placed thoughtfully, the story remains engaging even if certain details about the world are left unexplained. And for Oasis di New Sahara, this approach worked.
Some parts of the story, especially during certain revelations, may have felt abrupt or seemingly out of nowhere. But that could be more on me, I might have missed some earlier hints or setups. Even then, the forward motion of the plot kept the story intact.
In zombie-themed films, you can actually see clear examples of these two approaches. For example, 28 Days Later (2002) leans toward the "what." It throws the audience into the aftermath of societal collapse without bogging down in too much explanation about the virus’ origin. The focus is on survival, the emotional and psychological toll, and the characters' journeys.
In contrast, World War Z (2013) leans heavily into the "why," trying to explain how the infection spreads, what causes it, how to cure it, and so on. It creates a more global, systemic view of the crisis, but also exposes itself to more scrutiny about plot consistency and believability.
Oasis di New Sahara clearly leans toward the 28 Days Later approach, focusing less on explaining the catastrophe and more on showing how the characters live through it. And in doing so, it keeps the story tight and accessible.
The performances were good overall, particularly in terms of characterization, delivery, and vocal projection. However, some characters, especially Dani and Syam came across as employing more of a textbook style of acting. By textbook acting, I mean a performance that feels technically correct: clear projection, appropriately placed emotions, clean gestures, everything you might learn in a formal acting class. There’s nothing inherently wrong with this; in fact, it ensures a certain level of clarity and showmanship. It's a safe and reliable approach, especially when consistency is needed.
However, textbook acting can sometimes lack a sense of rawness or spontaneity. It can make performances feel slightly rehearsed rather than lived-in, especially when placed alongside other actors who seem to be drawing from a more instinctive or naturalistic style. In Oasis di New Sahara, this created a slight tonal mismatch as if Dani and Syam were operating in a different "performance language" compared to the other characters. The result wasn’t entirely distracting, but it did introduce a small sense of incoherence in the overall rhythm of the ensemble.
Another point I would like to raise about the performances concerns articulation. Just as we naturally expect a writer to be able to spell correctly, it is equally reasonable to expect actors to articulate and project their lines clearly. In this production, projection was generally strong, the actors could be heard well across the space. However, articulation was less consistent.
Several issues stood out. Some actors exhibited a noticeable lisp, pronouncing the /s/ sound as /ʃ/ (the "sh" sound). This became especially apparent in lines that were heavy with the /s/ sound, such as "kalau kita jumpa oashish tu nanti, kita akan shembuhkan dia shama-shama" or "shaya takkan cari lah oashish tu, shama macam bang Syam dan Shuria." Over time, it drew attention away from the story and made certain lines sound less precise than they should have.
There were also struggles with producing nasal sounds accurately. For example, the word "kentang" (potato) at one point came out sounding like "ketam" (crab) as in "sudah lah, bagi aku ketam (kentang) bakar tu" which caused momentary confusion about what the character was actually referring to. Additionally, certain vowel sounds occasionally shifted unnecessarily, such as "histeria" becoming "hesteria", subtly changing the texture of the dialogue.
The voice is an actor's primary instrument. Clear articulation, just like strong projection, is a basic requirement to fully carry the text to the audience. That said, the articulation issues observed here are by no means irreversible. With targeted practice and proper focus, these habits can be corrected. For instance, a lisp, while it might feel like a fixed trait, can often be improved by retraining the tongue to find the correct place of articulation for /s/ sounds, much like how people learn to master the trilled "r" sound with patience and drills.
And to the actors concerned, you probably know who you are. Please know this is not said to discourage you. In fact, I would be more than happy to offer tips and guidance if you would like to work on it further. You know how to reach me.
The set design, for me, worked well. They kept all the major elements (the container, a tree, the cooking area) in white, giving the stage a blank, almost gallery-like canvas. The choice to use translucent plastic as the container’s door, pleated to mimic the texture of corrugated walls, was a clever touch. Coupled with strategic lighting, it created a strong, evocative mood, especially during the scenes when the zombies appeared. At those moments, the entire environment seemed to shift, amplifying the sense of tension and vulnerability. It was subtle but powerful, at least to me.
I can see how some audiences might not prefer this minimalistic approach, particularly those who favour realism. That’s the risk the production and director chose to take, and in theater, you can never please everyone. But in the context of this story, and in terms of evoking atmosphere and supporting the narrative, I believe it worked very well.
Was the play excellent? Not quite. This might be me dialing up my "critic" setting a little higher, but compared to the boldness of the concept, I felt the execution was slightly too safe. It’s good — absolutely — but it doesn’t quite push boundaries. It plays within a comfort zone. That said, in the context of a competition, a "safe" approach isn’t necessarily a bad strategy. Solid execution without major risks often means avoiding disasters, and depending on the performances of the other nine teams, they still stand a strong chance of landing in the top five.
Of course, I’m not one of the juries, so in the end, my view does not matter.
Oasis di New Sahara showcases a production team with a good sense of storytelling and stagecraft. The performances, while largely solid in projection and delivery, still have room to grow in terms of articulation, spontaneity, and tonal cohesion. It’s clear that the actors are committed and capable, but refining the finer details, from vocal precision to emotional texture could elevate their work to an even more compelling level. Parallact Art has the foundation: a thoughtful creative vision, a sincere connection with audiences and an appetite for storytelling that deserves to be nurtured. With continued focus on honing their performance craft, I believe they are on the verge of something truly exceptional.
I am genuinely excited to see what Parallact Art will create next. They’re one of the few production teams I would confidently recommend and stand behind. I really hope they keep pushing themselves and never lose the spark that makes their work so interesting and engaging. They’re a passionate, creative bunch with so much potential, and it’s been a joy watching them creating arts. I can’t wait to see how far they’ll go.
