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 8:
Written by Shasha Fairus
Directed by Khal Isyaf
Before anything else, I need to be upfront, just to be fair. I do enjoy comedy, I love humour but if I’m being completely honest, I naturally lean more towards tragedy: stories packed with emotions, characters getting hit left and right, and of course: death. I’ve always believed that death is an essential ingredient to elevate a story. A good story is good. But a good story with death, or at least a sense of irreversible separation, is perfect. So, while I absolutely enjoy comedy and humour, I’m more inclined to favour tragedy. And when presented with comedy, I tend to be quite critical. Yes, I know that’s not really the point of comedy (like, get a life Malaysia). But to me, comedy should offer more than just laughter. So even though I will enjoy the humour, I inevitably find myself looking for something deeper in comedy.
Comedy, as a genre, has always existed alongside tragedy, like two sides of the same coin. Where tragedy often pulls us into sorrow, loss, and catharsis, comedy lifts us out, highlighting the absurdities and contradictions of life. But contrary to popular belief, comedy hasn’t always been just about making people laugh. In its roots, especially in classical theater, comedy was more about restoring order, resolving conflict, and offering a glimpse of hope and laughter was just a by-product. It’s important to distinguish between humour and laughter: humour is the quality, the craft, the sharpness of observation; laughter is merely one possible reaction. A good comedy doesn’t rely solely on punchlines or slapstick. It builds on timing, rhythm, wit, character dynamics and an acute sense of the ridiculousness of human behaviour. Whether it’s a farce, satire or a light-hearted play, the consensus remains that good comedy must feel truthful, sharply observed and rhythmically alive even if the laughs come easy or slow.
Comedy, although it might seem light, silly and carefree at first glance, is actually far from easy. It demands a delicate balance of so many variables, some within your control, and some completely unpredictable. Sometimes a joke lands, sometimes it doesn’t. You have to consider the material: the references, the context, the timing. Will the audience pick up on it? Will they react the way you hope? Then there’s the delivery. Sometimes the humour is built into the text itself; sometimes, it’s the actor’s presentation, timing or subtle choices that bring the humour to life. And it's important to remember: humour and laughter are not the same thing. Laughter is just one possible reaction to humour. A moment can be deeply humorous even if no one laughs out loud, it might make the audience smile, nod or simply feel amused. Beyond that, a good comedy still needs to keep its story and themes intact. Otherwise, it risks becoming empty, a show full of laughs in the moment, but nothing lasting, nothing for the audience to bring home after the show ends.
So while comedy may not carry the heavy emotional weight of serious drama or tragedy, it is just as demanding, if not more so in some ways. In the case of ARTI 2.0, TITK Production had only one shot. One performance, one audience, one chance to get it right. Once it’s over, that’s it. No opportunity to review what worked and what didn’t for the next night. Comedy especially depends so much on audience energy and reaction; and while rehearsals and previews can help, they’ll never perfectly replicate the real show. Different audiences respond differently and the performers have only that one night to gauge, adapt and deliver the best version of their comedy.
Perubahan Ikleem is unmistakably a pure comedy, leaning heavily towards the style of farce. The premise is simple: a rock band named Ikleem (inspired by the legendary Malaysian band Iklim) has just lost their lead vocalist. To keep the band alive, they decide to hold an audition to find a new singer. The story mainly revolves around the auditions, with three eccentric candidates arriving from different backgrounds.
The characters are deliberately exaggerated, with their traits, appearances, gestures, and speech pushed beyond ordinary limits, all contributing to the comedic texture of the play. Actions often spiral into the unexpected, another hallmark of farce, where unpredictability drives much of the humour.
At times, the story breaks out of its fictional world to include direct real-world references and remarks to the audience adding a Brechtian flavour to the play. One clear example is how the character Mon, the band manager, is introduced: the actor playing Mon is first presented as himself, being called onto the stage and handed the script before disappearing backstage and reappearing in character, now transformed in costume and manner as Mon.
When the "play" properly begins, the audience is treated or somewhat given the character of those going to the audition other than the 3 main candidates. Actually, pinpointing exactly when the play starts is debatable. As soon as the house opens, two characters, possibly playing stage managers or technical crew, are already on stage, casually starting their bits. Their banter and actions blend naturally into the next sequence: calling out the actor who will play Mon, the band manager. After handing him the script, they then call for the emcee, directing him in a semi-improvised style to officially introduce the show. Only after these layers of interaction and setup does the “play” formally take off. This fluid transition between backstage, onstage and audience creates a playful atmosphere from the outset, making the line between pre-show and the performance intentionally blurry.
For me personally, they pulled it off. The comedy, their direction and their overall intention all worked. From what I observed, the audience responded positively too and I should add, the attendance was the highest among all ARTI 2.0 productions so far (one could even say it is full-house). The show had a good structure, a strong pace and sharp delivery. The audience was responsive and the actors in turn fed off that energy, creating a lively and generous exchange between both sides. A great atmosphere for comedy was definitely achieved that night.
That said, the director, Khal Isyaf, who also played the stage manager/technical crew part, did mention his concerns afterwards. He admitted he was worried that certain parts might not land for some audience members, or that some jokes might not sit well with everyone. He shared that throughout the show, he kept an eye out for any opposing reactions and he said, he did notice a few. But I reassured him: overall, the mood was overwhelmingly positive and that is always a good sign. After all, we can never please everyone; audience preferences and levels of humour acceptance will always vary.
My main concern is with the theme. Perubahan Ikleem, aside from being the only production presenting pure comedy for ARTI 2.0, also interprets the theme quite differently from the others. They play on the semantics of the word ‘iklim’ (climate), but mainly by twisting it into the name of their fictional band, Ikleem which is a playful variation inspired by the real band Iklim. While they did attempt to weave in some thematic elements through the backstories of the audition candidates, these references were more about weather than climate in the true sense. As a result, their connection to the theme feels more linguistic and symbolic, rather than thematic in depth. I hope this won’t carry too much weight during evaluation, as the production clearly succeeds in other crucial areas, particularly in delivering an effective and memorable comedy.
Well, Perubahan Ikleem by TITK Production stands out not just for its bold embrace of comedy, but for the energy, clarity, and spirit with which it was delivered. Even if its thematic connection leaned more playful than profound, the production’s success lies in how fully committed they are to its chosen direction that is entertaining, engaging, and creating a space for laughter and lightness. In a festival where heavier themes and serious tones dominate, Perubahan Ikleem reminds us that comedy, too, demands skill, thought and courage. And sometimes, offering a full house of people a night of joy is an achievement all on its own.
