Writers and Devisors: Bonni Chan and Pun Tsz Wai
Director: Bonni Chan
A suspended wallpaper-like backdrop painted with the image of an island spills forward onto the floor, dotted with miniature models of that same island and, more curiously, a lone model rhinoceros facing the mural. The stage is scattered with small objects that will, in turn, serve as narrative anchors. To the side, musician Lau Chi-bun conjures an enchanting soundscape using instruments from harmonica to xylophone, which grounds the production in whimsy and nostalgia.
The piece opens with a delicate sequence of physical theatre. Bonni Chan captivates immediately through her precision of movement, which is abstract, yet emotionally resonant. This choreographed prelude sets the tone for a performance that prioritises the emotional transmission of the intangible over plot.
The narrative follows a woman returning to Hong Kong to deal with the grief of her late father. But the show is less about linear storytelling and more about evoking feelings of memory and longing. Childhood anecdotes blend with myths of how the island came to be, and the story of Sudan, the last northern white rhinoceros, becomes a powerful metaphor for the fragility of memory and the fading presence of a parent.
Pun Tsz Wai’s skilful video design is just one of several rich creative elements that transport us not just to Hong Kong, but to a deeply personal version of it filtered through the eyes of a daughter who truly feels the loss of her father.
The piece’s greatest strength lies in its tonal fluidity. In that same vein, however, occasionally it over-reiterates certain plot points due to the sparsity of what it’s telling. This is most notable towards the end, where multiple endings create a slight sense of overextension.
Nevertheless, Must I Cry is a delicate and imaginative reflection on grief and homecoming. It offers space to sit with longing, and perhaps, to find a quiet kind of peace within it.
Runs until 2 August 2025
