剧评:The Fourth Trimester

 

(Joseph Nair摄/凯门剧场提供)

谁不是第一次过人生——观《第四孕期》


我们一般把怀孕分为三个孕期,但其实对于许多新手父母来说,真正的挑战往往在产后才开始。所谓“第四孕期”,指的就是产后开始的12周。这段时期固然能感受到迎接新生命的喜悦,却同时必须面对巨大的身心压力与挑战。凯门剧场呈献的《第四孕期》(The Fourth Trimester),正是从这样真实而混乱的时段展开。

剧本讲述由詹文倩和林俊宏饰演的一对新手父母,在无尽的日常循环中反复喂奶、换尿布、哄宝宝,逐渐陷入疲倦不堪的处境。舞台呈现的是一间三房式组屋的剖面:凌乱的客厅堆满宝宝的日用品,沙发上叠着来不及折的衣物;妈妈没空洗澡,来不及吃饭,还要忙着照顾持续哭闹的宝宝。编剧黄淑敏在初为人母时创作了这部作品,以自身经验写下那些未经修饰的日常。这些赤裸而细碎的生活片刻,并非夸张的剧情,而是许多新手父母鲜少被看见的真实写照,也因此能与观众产生深刻共鸣。

身体疼痛尚未消退、睡眠被切割得支离破碎,还要在母乳与奶粉之间反复思量,詹文倩将产后母亲的状态演得非常细腻。观众随着她的荷尔蒙波动和情绪起伏,为她的无奈与无助感到心疼。其实,谁不是第一次过人生?更何况是第一次为人父母的他们。林俊宏饰演的父亲也在剧中坦诚,只有在宝宝出生之后,他才真正体会到那种陌生且突如其来的责任感。

为人父母没有标准守则,也没有一套固定的参考模式。剧中也讲述另外两对夫妻的故事:一对是结婚多年,育有两个孩子的父母;另一对则是刚结婚、正尝试生育却迟迟不如愿的夫妻。三对夫妇处在人生不同阶段,却同样面临各自的挑战。现实中,我们在社交媒体看到的,很多是经过筛选和美化的育儿日常,一般人不会愿意将自己狼狈和脆弱的一面公诸于世,但导演将这些挣扎与挑战呈现在舞台上,提醒着我们,每个家庭都有自己的时间线,别因为他人的步伐而太苛责自己。

强烈的女性意识与关怀视角

在本地语境下,不少年轻人对家庭和婚姻都有“理所当然”的期待。从大学毕业、恋爱、申请组屋,到结婚生子,这条被视为“完美公式”的人生路线,有时反而变成需要符合社会期待的枷锁。导演透过舞台空间的处理,把这种社会压力具象化。在新手父母的主场景里,空间凌乱却充满生活的气息。而另一旁,刚搬来的新婚夫妇索菲亚和约翰,却因为申请不到新组屋,只能购买转售组屋,住进空荡,没有家具,显得不完整的房子。在二者的对比之下,更凸显了后者夫妻在制度与期待之间所承受的空虚与压力。

剧中也体现了强烈的女性意识与关怀视角。在生育议题上,有些女性愿意承担育儿责任,有些则选择不生育,她们都值得被理解与尊重。剧中角色Ann是女主角的好朋友,也是一名单身职业女性。虽然在家庭规划上有着不同的价值观,但在关键时刻却始终伸出援手,陪伴初为人母的好友。

《第四孕期》让人意识到,一个家庭的背后需要庞大的支持网络,无论是伴侣、家人、朋友、甚至是邻居。舞台上没有围起的墙,也没有锁上的门,观众得以走进这几个家庭,亲眼看见他们的脆弱与挣扎。剧中,索菲亚在疫情后居家办公,因宝宝哭声而感到烦躁,但看到新手母亲在慌忙中打翻奶瓶后,却第一时间冲进门帮忙收拾。社会与人们对家庭、女性与育儿的观念或许需要时间改变,也正在慢慢改变。


关于演出:2025年11月20日,8PM戏剧中心剧院,凯门剧场呈现


点击阅读演出详情


Because This is Our First Life — Reviewing “The Fourth Trimester”   

We often think of pregnancy as comprising three trimesters, but for many new parents, the real challenges begin only after birth. The so-called fourth trimester refers to the first twelve weeks postpartum—a period filled with the joy of welcoming new life, yet equally marked by immense physical and emotional strain. Checkpoint Theatre’s The Fourth Trimester unfolds precisely from this raw, chaotic stretch of life.

The play follows new parents Samantha and Aaron, portrayed by Isabella Chiam and Joshua Lim, who find themselves trapped in an exhausting loop of feeding, changing diapers, and soothing a crying baby. The stage is designed as a cross-section of a three-room HDB flat: a cluttered living room full of baby supplies, laundry piled on the sofa, and a mother who has no time to shower or eat as she tends to her persistently crying infant. Playwright Faith Ng draws from her own early experiences of motherhood, crafting scenes filled with unvarnished daily details. These raw, intimate fragments are not dramatised for effect. They reflect the seldom-seen realities of many new parents, and it is precisely this honesty that resonates so deeply with audiences.

Isabella Chiam delivers a nuanced portrayal of a postpartum mother: her lingering physical pain, fragmented sleep, and constant struggle between breastfeeding and formula. Her hormonal shifts and emotional swings feel painfully real, drawing the audience into her frustration and helplessness. Because, truly, who isn’t living life for the first time? And for first-time parents, the uncertainty is even greater. Joshua Lim’s character reflects that it was only after the baby’s arrival that he finally understood the sudden, overwhelming weight of responsibility.

There is no universal handbook for parenthood and no single model to follow. The play also introduces two other couples: one with two young children navigating the chaos of toddlerhood (Lisa and Daniel, portrayed by Julie Wee and Hang Qian Chou), and a newly married couple trying to conceive without success (Sofia and Johan, portrayed by Rusydina Afiqah and Wan Ahmad). Though at different life stages, all three couples grapple with their own challenges. In reality, much of what we see on social media are curated and polished versions of parenting that seldom reveal the messiness and vulnerability. By placing these struggles onstage, the play reminds us that every family has its own timeline—we should not be too harsh on ourselves simply because others appear to have figured things out.

Holding Space and Empathy for Women

Within Singapore’s social context, many young adults feel compelled to follow a familiar sequence of milestones: graduating, dating, securing a BTO flat, and starting a family. What may seem like a perfect formula can easily become a cage shaped by societal expectations. Director Claire Wong and set designer Petrina Dawn Tan materialise this pressure through spatial design: Samantha and Aaron’s home is messy but full of life, while next door, Sofia and Johan, when unable to secure a BTO flat, move into a resale unit that is empty, unfurnished, and visibly incomplete. The contrast highlights the sense of inadequacy and pressure felt by couples who fall outside the prescribed societal timeline.

The production is also about holding space and empathy for all women. Some women choose to shoulder the responsibilities of motherhood, while others choose not to have children at all, and both choices deserve respect. Samantha’s best friend, Ann (portrayed by Liz Sergeant Tan), is a single working woman who does not share the same vision of family life, yet she remains a steadfast source of support. Her presence affirms that women need space to define their own paths, and that solidarity can take many forms.

The Fourth Trimester underscores the importance of a wider support system behind every family: partners, relatives, friends, and even neighbours. With no walls or locked doors onstage, the audience moves freely across households, witnessing vulnerability up close. In one scene, Sofia, working from home after the pandemic, initially feels irritated by the baby’s cries—yet when she sees a flustered Samantha accidentally spill a bottle of milk, she immediately rushes in to help. Social attitudes towards family, women, and caregiving may take time to shift, but they are slowly, steadily changing.

Performance details: 20 November 2025, 8PM, at Drama Centre Theatre, presented by Checkpoint Theatre.


This review was published in Lianhe Zaobao’s Arts Review section.


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