ASIA TOPA
LITTLE EMPERORS ★★★★
Lachlan Philpott, Malthouse Theatre
Until February 26
China's One Child Policy may officially have ended last year, but its effects will be felt for decades to come. Little Emperors – a collaboration between Australian playwright Lachlan Philpott and Chinese director Wang Chong – dives into some of the social implications through heightened, visually striking domestic melodrama.
![Alice Qin as the sister who bears the brunt of their mother's anxiety for grandchildren in Little Emperors.](/web/20170216153544im_/http://www.smh.com.au/content/dam/images/g/u/e/b/g/s/image.related.articleLeadwide.620x349.gueb6v.png/1487215262323.jpg)
The play takes its name from so-called "Little Emperor Syndrome", a catchphrase for the behavioural issues wrought by engineering a generation of only children. The break with the past is acute in a country like China, where families were traditionally large, with domestic relations guided by the Confucian precept of filial piety (xiào), or respect for and obedience to one's parents.
Growing up as the sole focus of parental attention and pressure, in an age of unprecedented prosperity, would seem to present a double-edged sword. On one hand, there are fears of a spoilt, selfish generation; on the other, a cohort burdened by expectation, often assuming lone responsibility for a family's economic future and continuance.
![Diana Lin is a standout as a dragon mother who harangues her children.](/web/20170216153544im_/http://www.smh.com.au/content/dam/images/g/u/e/b/g/r/image.related.articleLeadwide.620x349.gueb6v.png/1487215262323.jpg)
Interestingly, the family in Little Emperors has two children. Kai-wen (Yuchen Wang) was born in Beijing after his sister (Alice Qin), but because of the policy his mother (Diana Lin) had to keep him secret and send him away.
Now a theatre director living in Melbourne, Kai-wen has a secret of his own. He's gay, and in the middle of rehearsing the play we're ostensibly seeing, while pursuing (and bossing around) one of his actors (Liam Maguire).
As Kai-wen hides his no-child policy, back in Beijing his sister is bearing the brunt of their mother's anxiety for grandchildren. Over 30 and unmarried, she is "sheng nu" – a disparaging Chinese term derived from "leftovers" – and faces intense pressure to advertise herself in one of Beijing's "marriage markets".
Diana Lin's dragon mother is a highlight, haranguing her children in an outsized, comic grotesque performance that sharpens into poignancy as both the reason for her desperation, and the tortured story of her own early motherhood, come to light.
Brilliant direction, concept and design make it easy to see why Wang Chong is regarded as such a rising theatrical talent in China.
Romanie Harper's set creates a stage inundated by an ankle-deep pool, with the cast wading through, splashing each other with, falling into and even walking over the water on tiny chairs. A curtain of marriage market notices, often stained with fiery red light, completes the elemental feel and acts as a screen for live-to-camera performance from backstage.