High jinks in high office

WHAT would you do, if the fate of the country you govern rested in your ability to provide a rich foreigner with three callgirls of his choice?

According to Jim Hacker, Prime Minister of Great Britain in the satirical comedy play Yes, Prime Minister, the best solution is to get down on his knees, and pray for a miracle. (And of course, God answers in the form of thunder-and-lighting. Because, what other way is there to respond?)

Written by Antony Jay and Jonathan Lynn, Yes, Prime Minister is based on their award-winning BBC TV series of the same name. The play premiered in Singapore last weekend at the Raffles Hotel Jubilee Hall and runs through till the end of this week.

Set in an office complete with brown leather furniture, a bookshelf (wallpaper) and even a handy globe in the corner, the two-hour-long play revolves around Hacker's dilemma and back-and-forth deliberations with his advisers, such as Cabinet Secretary Sir Humphrey Appleby (Crispin Redman).

The immediate issue at hand is whether or not to fulfil the request of a rich Kumranistani Oil Minister who wants three callgirls to entertain him, in exchange for a billion-dollar contract that might rescue the country from an economic crisis. Along the way, the script vaguely discusses the meaning of democracy and the role of civil servants in society.

John McAndrew's effective portrayal of Hacker's character told audiences a lot about a well-meaning man, who unfortunately was hopelessly naive and clueless in his farcical stuffy suit - a point made abundantly clear when he at one point cowers under his desk while Appleby stands towering above him.

In fact, that image pretty much sums up the dynamics between the two - with Appleby pulling the strings, and Hacker attempting, but unable, to resist his influence, drawing attention to the question of whether the heads of countries are ever really the ones in control.

And it was by playing off this dynamic that Redman made himself quite the hit with audiences, who easily caught the joke when he fired long incomprehensible spiels of politically correct jargon at a blank-faced Prime Minister to confuse him.

However, not all of Yes, Prime Minister's jokes managed to strike a chord with local audiences, who seemed to laugh a little less than their expatriate counterparts.

Perhaps, one reason is that the show is based on a television series from the 1980s, and has lost some of its relevance since then. Or, perhaps, it was simply the fact that the dry British humour plus bullet-train delivery might have gotten a little lost on its way across the globe.

But nonetheless Yes, Prime Minister is a good enough demonstration that no matter which part of the world you live in, the political game is one that doesn't really change.

Yes, Prime Minister runs till May 18 at the Jubilee Hall of Raffles Hotel, at various timings. Tickets cost from $110 to $125. Log on to www.sistic.com.sg for more information or to purchase tickets