Joe Ngo, Abraham Kim, Brooke Ishibashi, Jane Lui, and Tim Liu in “Cambodian Rock Band.” Photo by Margot Schulman.
“Music is the soul of Cambodia,” says a character in Arena Stage’s long-awaited production of “Cambodian Rock Band” by Lauren Yee (in association with Alley Theatre, Berkeley Repertory Theatre, and ACT Theatre/5th Avenue) and the opening night house was packed and ready for it. The stage, hung with signs from the busy streets of the Cambodian capitol—Night Market, Dream Bar, Dr. Fish Massage (no Piranha), Sheraton—seems empty until a platform rolls in with a five-piece band playing hard rock tunes sung in Khmer led by vibrant vocalist Brooke Ishibashi. Having been in Phnom Penh myself in 2007, I kept gazing at the clothesline and the louvered window hanging above the street signs. Takeshi Kata’s minimal set design perfectly captures the back streets of the city.
Director Chay Yew soon sweeps the audience into the story of Chum (Joe Ngo), a Cambodian immigrant to the U.S. who is surprising his American-born daughter, Neary (Ishibashi). She lives in Phnom Penh where she works for a nongovernmental organization investigating war crimes from the Pol Pot era and living with her Thai Canadian boyfriend, Ted (Tim Liu). Neary is determined to learn the identity of the mysterious eighth survivor of the notorious S21 prison camp whom she hopes to interview if the person is found alive. From here, the story alternates between the father-daughter relationship in 2008 and the members of rock band Cyclos in Phnom Penh in 1975, just before the Khmer Rouge took over the country in the wake of the U.S. withdrawal of forces and embassy personnel.
The music is terrific…The cast is uniformly excellent…
Neary believes her father is disappointed that she is working for the nonprofit rather than going to law school and that she is wasting her time in Cambodia focusing on issues from a sad past that is better forgotten. Ngo’s characterization of a concerned, meddling dad at first seems like a caricature of a stereotypical Asian character, e.g., Mickey Rooney’s Mr. Yunioshi in “Breakfast at Tiffany’s.” This is surely intentional and aims to disarm the audience with humor before dropping us back into the horror story of the Khmer Rouge. The rapid transition in tone is startling and is repeated throughout the play. Along the way we are joined by a sort of master of ceremonies (Francis Jue) who reveals himself to be the infamous Duch, commandant of S21 under Pol Pot. The leader of the Khmer Rouge had been held at bay by the international presence and quickly took over on the heels of the evacuating Americans and their local allies—allies who included Chum’s parents and siblings, none of whom escaped the killing fields except Chum.
Five of the six cast members double as members of Cyclos (including drummer Abraham Kim and keyboardist Jane Lui) and play their hearts out on 70s style rock music written by Dengue Fever (denguefevermusic.com). The music is terrific and a perfect metaphor for life in 1975 Cambodia, a country recovering from the Second Indochina War (also called the Vietnam War) whose optimistic youth were influenced by Western culture and the protest music of the 1960s through early 70s. But musicians, along with other artists and intellectuals were early targets of Pol Pot, and the second act of the play brings us to 1978 and life under the Khmer Rouge regime. A wonderfully moving scene occurs in Act 2 when a prisoner in S21 sings Bob Dylan’s “The Times They are A-changing” to Duch in an attempt to escape his sentence of death.
The cast is uniformly excellent from the charming, yet frightening, Francis Jue to the incredibly versatile Joe Ngo. Brooke Ishibashi is compelling as Neary, but luminous as the vocalist Sothea.
S21 was turned into a museum commemorating the genocide. When father and daughter meet in Act 2 in the room where so many people were slaughtered, Neary is surprised to see it is just an ordinary room—just like the fish that are supposed to eat the dead skin off your feet which just ordinary fish that are hungry enough to eat anything. Neary wonders how she could not have known what her father experienced before getting out of Cambodia. “I raised you not to know,” he responds. The necessity of forgetting and the redemption of being remembered are themes echoing throughout the play. As Duch reminds us, “Whoever tells the story, tells the truth.”
Running Time: Approximately two hours and 30 minutes, including one 15-minute intermission.
Advisory: Strong language and brief depiction of torture of a prisoner.
“Cambodia Rock Band” runs through August 27, 2023 in the Kreeger Theatre at Arena Stage, 1101 Sixth St. SW, Washington, D.C. 20004. Tickets available here. There are four mask-required performances: Tuesday, August 1, at 7:30 p.m.; Wednesday, August 16, at 12 p.m.; Saturday, August 26, at 8 p.m.; and
Sunday, August 27, at 2 p.m.
