Image by Christine Fang
Review by: Blake Zhang
Rating: ★★★★
Sometimes, the end of a friendship can be more heartbreaking than the end of a romantic relationship.
Stunted follows Celine and Max, two longtime friends and roommates who have reached a point where they have to go their separate ways. They have lived together for years, but when the time comes to say goodbye, they fail to do it properly. Instead, they choose the most painful kind of goodbye. They hurt each other.
Christine Fang wrote the play and plays Celine, who has been avoiding social situations after an awkward incident. She seems to have developed a relationship with a female friend that goes beyond friendship, but pulls away when the other woman wants to take things further. Her attitude towards sex and intimacy is also something Max struggles to understand. Kenon Veno plays Max, a gay man who has just broken up with his ex-boyfriend Ryan and is trying to forget about it through drinking, partying and casual relationships. Celine clearly has a lot she wants to say, but she keeps hesitating.
After a very funny session of manifesting through exaggerated movements, the two finally seem to open up to each other. Then Max discovers that Celine is planning to move out. Celine is tired of worrying about Max and taking care of him. She wants some space for herself.
Their argument quickly gets out of control. Then comes a huge confrontation. But underneath all the anger is something much simpler. They care about each other. They cannot bear to lose a friendship that has lasted for years. They agree that even if they are no longer roommates, they will still be there for each other.
The peace does not last. When Celine mentions her parents and says that perhaps she should think about having a more stable, settled and ‘normal’ life, Max feels judged again. The argument ends badly, and they walk away from each other.
The final moments are perhaps the most painful. Through their physicality, we see that Celine and Max later run into each other on the street. There is an awkward greeting. Then they simply walk past each other. Two people who were once inseparable have become strangers.
What makes Stunted so effective is the way it observes the small changes in a friendship. The characters do not always say what they really mean. Their hesitation, jokes and sudden anger often say much more. The dialogue has real tension, and the comedy feels very natural. There were frequent bursts of laughter from the audience.
The play also has something thoughtful to say about friendship in your twenties and thirties, as well as womanhood and queerness. These ideas never feel like they have been added simply to make a point. They come through the characters and their everyday conversations. There is detail and warmth in the writing, without being superficial or clichéd..
The set is simple but clever. Two tables can become a sofa, or form a corner that hides the moving boxes. At the back of the stage is a wall of photographs. When it is torn open, close-up images of the two characters’ faces appear underneath. It feels like tearing through the softer and more comfortable surface of their friendship, exposing the things that hurt. It is a striking image.
Image by Yiyun “TT” Zhang
The physical work is more mixed. I understand the intention behind it, especially in showing the changes in their relationship. But sometimes it becomes distracting and breaks the rhythm of the scenes. I would have preferred to see it used more selectively, keeping it for the moments where it really adds something.
The performances are a real strength. Fang and Veno have a convincing chemistry, and both bring plenty of dramatic tension to their characters. Their friendship feels lived in. That makes the final separation even harder to watch.
Perhaps the most painful thing about Stunted is how ordinary its ending feels. We often imagine that the friendships we have now will last forever. But sometimes they only belong to a particular stage of our lives. As we grow up, we keep saying goodbye. To old friends. To old versions of ourselves. To the lives we once thought would last.
Brutal, but true. Ouch.