Kae Alexander as Built, Farzana Dua Elahe as Priya, Katie Leung as Sunny, Minhee Yeo as Soo-Jin, Kanako Nakano as Ruki, and Momo Yeung as Xiao in White Pearl (photograph by Helen Murray)

This robust grasp of the form is presumably what some reviewers have had in mind when they comment on the strength of King’s voice. But what is striking about White Pearl is the remarkable plurality of voices. The ClearDay team is pan-Asian, constituted by staff from India, China, Japan, South Korea, Singapore, and America. Much of the drama rests on this heterogeneity of perspectives, particularly with regards to identity. One memorable instance arises when some of the staff deride the British-educated Singh and the Thai-Californian Built Suttikul (Kae Alexander) for not being ‘real’ Asians, objecting that their Westernised values have impeded them from understanding their market. Likewise, Singh later reveals her own contempt for the staff members who are unable to speak English with at least ‘some degree of fucking finesse’. These discriminatory battles coil through King’s brisk plot, which is well-buoyed by this production’s formidable ensemble and skilfully directed by Nana Dakin.

A coup of the production was Katie Leung’s riotous performance as the Chinese-Singaporean Sunny Lee. Leung handled Sunny’s ‘dudebro’ manner with flair – ‘Wah lau eh. Why they say the fuckin’ brand?’ – winning many of the biggest laughs of the night. Beyond the comic pay-offs, Sunny also holds the heartbeat of the show. She subtly foils many of the appalling extremes that the ClearDay team careers into. In a moment of great artistic courage, from actor and playwright alike, the South Korean chemist Soo-Jin Park (played with dexterity by Minhee Yeo) embarks on a racist tirade against black communities in Asia. It is a car crash of a monologue. A roiling argument ensues, which burns through the rest of the play. But both Park’s appalling speech, and the furious retaliations by Singh, are tempered by Sunny Lee’s all-too-human, ‘Shit, son. I’m out.’ It’s a remark that rings out in tune with the audience.

Farzana Dua Elahe as Priya in White Pearl (photograph by Helen Murray)

The dramatic handling of Park before and after her monologue is worth watching closely. It reveals some of the scorching intelligence in King’s writing. Park has moments of real generosity, especially in a magnificent bathroom scene with her bullied Chinese colleague Xiao Shen (Momo Yeung). Likewise, the South Korean herself suffers through a prejudiced outburst concerning North Korea, at the hands of Singh. Projections of the internet comments on the viral video – ranging from racist to outraged – pepper the scene changes, putting Park’s racism into a provocative context. These choices all participate in a sophisticated dramatic strategy. As the complications add up, our moral compasses start to spin, and the play becomes a veritable rollercoaster. But there are deep critiques at stake in these reversals also.

In a flashback sequence, the ClearDay team debate how to market their skin-whitening products. The new hire, Ruki Minami (flawlessly played by Kanako Nakano), proposes a cynical strategy: alluding to the product’s bleaching properties but emphasising other selling points, like its organic ingredients. The rationale is made explicit. The consumer can give themselves every excuse to ‘ethically’ buy the whitening product without purchasing it for its actual purpose. This dramatisation of the unspoken emotional logic of consumption is perspicuous. And it gives weight to King’s own wry description of the play as ‘capitalist realism’. But the master stroke arrives a few scenes later, when Ruki confesses that she still used the product herself, despite fully understanding its numerous faults.

Playwright Anchuli Felicia King (photograph via Melbourne Theatre Company)

It is true that those who are working within exploitative ideologies are often those who are most invested in them, and who are most vulnerable to their discursive power. That this is drawn out in such clear and personal terms is just one example of the careful counterpoising that underpins White Pearl. King has a keen sense of the conditions in which her characters operate. Yet, White Pearl never loses sight of the irreducible complexity and chaos of life either. Theatre here resolves the ancient tension between theory – Marxist, feminist, postcolonial – and reality. While so much can become intelligible through these structural models, life ceaselessly overflows their bounds. The staging of that moral and political paradox with brisk humour, fresh voices, and clarity is a roaring achievement. In short, White Pearl is urgent, in every sense of the word.

White Pearl, written by Anchuli Felicia King and directed by Nana Dakin, is being performed at the Royal Court, London, until 15 June 2019. The Australian première, directed by Priscilla Jackman, will run at the Sydney Theatre Company from 24 October to 9 November 2019.