Theatre review: The Serangoon Gardens Techno Party of 1993 – Joel Tan | Wild Rice | The Flying Inkpot
The Serangoon Gardens Techno Party of 1993
Playwright: Joel Tan
Director: YY Sim
Cast:
Coco Wang Ling (Candice)
Karen Tan (Adult Candice / Mum / Janice / Bus Auntie / Officer)
Shane Mardjuki (Henry / DJ Phil / Jamus / Punk)
Teoh Jun Vinh (Jun Hao / Stranger)
Jackson Hurwood (Tony / Morrissey / Moderator)
Wild Rice@Funan
23 Oct 2025
Review by Derek Lim
What were you doing back in 1993? In his new play for Wild Rice directed by YY Sim, playwright Joel Tan takes us back to a Singapore in the early 90s, seen through the lens of his protagonist – a country that mirrors her struggle between the forces of conservatism and the creeping allure of glamorous ‘foreign’ influences.
Over 105 minutes without an intermission, ‘The Serangoon Gardens Techno Party of 1993’ takes us through a pivotal day in the life of 16-year-old Candice (Coco Wang Ling), who the playwright describes as ‘extremely disaffected’. She is an archetypal precocious world-weary “problem child”, prone to gratuitous F-bombs and a rebel without a cause. Home is a solidly middle-class one in landed-estate Serangoon Gardens (fun fact: this reviewer lived there for a few of his growing-up years). She survives off a steady diet of alt-rock, MTV and music magazines. When her mother burns them all in a fit of moral panic, she goes on a bender that she will regret the rest of her life – the titular “Serangoon Garden Techno Party of 1993”.
Crisply-written for the most part, the play entertains with snippets of witty, often humourous dialogue that offers a glimpse into the sentiments of the surging 90s, anchored by bits of music (Morrisey), history (the Kuwait War), fashion (too-tight sporting attire) and even the Great Singapore Workout (remember that?).
Probably kept deliberately light-hearted, scenes are short, and the action zips along and keeps the laughs coming. These rapid sketches mean that the characterisation is often somewhat stereotypical: Candice’s pregnant mother (we never meet the father) is your typical Chinese mother who’s always in a maternity dress. Her neighbour, Henry, is a charismatic-church Christian army officer who quotes Bible verses, ready to conduct an exorcism at a moment’s notice. Police officer-turned-possible-paramour Jun Hao is a poor, lowly-educated guy-with-a-heart-of-gold who is ready to sacrifice his future for love and grasps at awkward metaphors. Tony is basically Michael Fay (search him up) – the ang moh delinquent who goes to an international school, but also a coke/meth/pothead who obviously causes Candice’s downfall.
Relationships between the characters operate on a similar wavelength, with seldom enough time in each scene to establish the relationships between the characters. Case in point: a moment of potential poignancy – Candice crying with her mother in their home – was swept aside before it could resonate. Allowing this moment of genuine emotion would have made it all that much powerful, before returning to farcical action.
Somewhere toward the end, the playwright pokes fun at himself, stating the lack of a narrative resolution, before attempting to wrap things up by doing just that – a meta-device that doesn’t quite detract from the fact that the play itself feels like a rather predictable Moral-Ed cautionary tale. The abject horror with which the adult Candice peppers her commentary on the action made this writer further wonder where the playwright’s sympathies really lie.
High energy, great individual acting and convincing chemistry between the cast members made the play work despite these shortcomings. The vivacious Coco Wang Ling inhabited Candice perfectly, with every baleful look and immature gesture convincing the audience that she was a selfish, entitled 16-year-old. Ever-reliable, theatre doyen Karen Tan played several roles, including the mother, grown-up Candice, an auntie on the bus and a police officer, with knowing characterisation. Shane Mardjuki, pulling multiple roles as DJ Phil, Henry the neighbour and more, was a sparkling devil-on-the-shoulder foil against Teoh Jun Vinh’s angel Jun Hao, whose sympathetic portrayal and comedic timing made him an audience favourite. Jackson Hurwood similarly played his role to perfection as the charismatic Tony, whose confidence and dance moves led Candice to her downfall.
Hugely entertaining and, in the final analysis, thought-provoking, ‘The Serangoon Gardens Techno Party of 1993’ is an ambitious outing and its fresh voice successfully evoked in this writer memories of those restless years.
