THERE'S something undeniably haunting about puppets. Ordinarily, nothing seems more lifeless than a puppet without a puppeteer. But the moment the puppeteer steps in, something magical — almost eerie — unfolds.
What should be lifeless now commands the stage, holding your gaze, telling stories with a depth that feels impossible. It's both mesmerising and unsettling, this transformation. There's a tension that lingers in the air, as if the boundary between what's real and imagined is blurred beyond recognition.
In that moment, the puppet becomes more than a tool; it becomes a storyteller, channelling something ancient, powerful and deeply human. It's a performance that leaves you on edge, transfixed, unable to look away.
When I first heard that performance-maker and puppetry creative, Bright Ong was set to take the stage at the opening ceremony of Denai Warisan, an eco-heritage trail in Perlis, I was immediately intrigued.
The event, to be graced by none other than the Raja of Perlis Tuanku Syed Sirajuddin Putra Jamalullail on Nov 13, promises to not only celebrate Malaysia's rich natural heritage, but also highlight the transformation of the Nakawan Range into a vibrant ecotourism asset for local communities and the state.
This project, deeply rooted in preserving Perlis' unique biodiversity, aims to bridge the gap between conservation and cultural engagement.
But what truly captured my attention was Ong's unique contribution — a puppet act featuring an extraordinary "star" modelled after the beruk kentoi or stump-tailed macaque (Macaca arctoides), a native primate of the Perlis wilderness.
Through Ong's performance, the beruk kentoi will come to life, shedding light on the importance of safeguarding even the most overlooked species in our ecosystem.
The excitement doesn't stop there. Ong's puppet act will also take centre stage again later this month, preceding a speech by none other than Dr Jane Goodall at the Symposium of HOPE in Kuala Lumpur on Nov 24.
With Goodall's powerful presence and known for her tireless efforts in wildlife conservation, the combination of Ong's puppet performance and her speech creates an engaging dialogue between art and activism.
"It's not so much a performance, but an experience I'm creating," Ong explains, adding: "My recent trip to Perlis deeply inspired me, leading to the idea of crafting a puppet based on the beruk kentoi, a species unique to that region. I want people to feel a connection — not just with the puppet, but also with the environment it represents."
CALL OF THE ARTS
Telling stories through puppetry isn't exactly the most conventional career choice, but Ong has been unwavering in following his heart, even if it means carving out his own path.
"I'm a Johor boy!" he proudly shares, adding: "My parents were originally from Ipoh, but had settled in Johor. I'm one of those kids who had to wake up at 4 in the morning every day just to travel across the causeway and attend school in Singapore!"
The Johor Baru native studied in Singapore all the way through university, where he pursued a degree in geography. Naturally, I was curious: When did his love for the arts come in? Grinning, he quips: "I blame my parents for that!"
When Ong was just 12, Cirque du Soleil made its debut in Singapore in 2000. His parents took him to see the show. "It was magical," he recalls, eyes lighting up at the memory. That performance left an indelible mark on him, sparking a fascination with the world of performance and storytelling that would shape his future path.
Like many in his generation, Ong wasn't allowed to pursue an education or career in the arts right away. "You knowlah... typical Asian parents!" he laughs. "They told me to study, get a degree and then I could do whatever I wanted."
He followed their advice and graduated from the National University of Singapore with a Bachelor's degree in Geography and a Minor in Theatre Studies. He chuckles, remarking wryly of his parents' advice: "Ah, famous last words!"
But his degree in social geography turned out to be more useful than he initially expected. He explains that social geographers examine the relationships between people and places, analysing how social, political, and economic processes are influenced by location, environment and spatial structures.
"Looking back, I wouldn't change that education. It gave me a different lens to see the world — how I understand it, how I interact with people, and even how I approach my art," he reflects. His background in geography has subtly shaped his storytelling, adding depth and meaning to his artistic work.
CALL OF THE PUPPETS
"How did you get into puppetry?" I ask. Chuckling, he quips: "By pure coercion!"
He began his theatre career in late 2010, and puppetry seemed to pop up at every stage along the way. "I never sought it out," he insists, though it's clear that puppetry, in a way, sought him.
An alumnus of the Singapore Repertory Theatre's (SRT) Young Company, he pursued theatre and found himself taking on the role of a "puppet doctor" in one of his earliest gigs.
Clapping a hand to his forehead, he exclaims: "Oh my goodness! I would NEVER do that again. The gaji was so little, and I ended up doing the work of at least three people. I was an assistant stage manager, an actor and the puppet doctor!"
A puppet doctor? He nods eagerly. The then 22-year-old would stay back after performances to maintain the props, including the puppets. "You know, there's wear and tear after shows, and I'd be the one to fix them. When people show signs of wear and tear, they go to the doctor. In the case of the puppets, they came to me — the puppet doctor!"
The work was challenging, but he was determined to stick it out. That first job gave him a glimpse of how demanding the industry could be. "I went on to do so many weird, wonderful, and different types of theatre," he recalls, adding: "If you look at my journey as a performer, it's been anything but conventional."
The call of puppetry came like a siren's song, irresistibly pulling him further into its world. "It kept nudging me in this direction, and I finally told myself, 'Okay, let's take a deep dive into it,'" he recounts, smiling.
Once he made that decision, his journey into puppetry truly began. Ong devoured books on the history and techniques of puppetry, attended every workshop he could find, and sought out experts who'd dedicated their lives to the craft.
"I was fascinated by how puppetry could be so simple yet so complex," he says, adding: "I wanted to learn, and I wanted to do everything. People looked at me and thought I was crazy — 'You're an actor, and you're doing this?'"
His passion didn't stop at performance. He also learnt the intricate art of puppet-building, crafting them from scratch and understanding the mechanics behind their movement.
"The more I immersed myself, the more I realised how vast and fascinating this world of puppetry truly is. It's not just about making something move, but it's also about giving it life, a personality, a soul." His enthusiasm is palpable as he speaks, reflecting a deep connection to the art form that has become an essential part of his creative identity.
FULFILLING THE CALL
Ong's journey as a puppetry creative expanded to include his role as an adjunct lecturer in puppetry at Lasalle College of the Arts in Singapore. In addition to teaching, he made his mark as a puppeteer, notably playing the character Latif on ZooMoo, an international children's cable channel.
In 2015, Ong took on the role of resident director and puppetry supervisor for Ninjago: The Realm of Shadows at Legoland Malaysia, a position he held for three years (2015-2018).
Under his direction, the show garnered international recognition, winning the prestigious IAAPA (The International Association of Amusement Parks and Attractions) award for Best Theatrical Production in 2016.
Ong's commercial directorial work also spans the region, with notable engagements for Legoland Malaysia, Transtudio Indonesia and Madame Tussauds Singapore, showcasing his versatility and expanding his creative influence across Southeast Asia.
Did puppetry require a certain kind of expertise? Ong furrows his brows, taking a moment to reflect before answering. "I think there's a certain kind of aptitude you need," he replies thoughtfully, adding: "Any puppeteer worth their salt needs to have empathy."
Many actors claim puppetry is easy, but the 36-year-old is quick to dispel that myth. "A lot of actors realise how hard it is once they finally pick up the puppet. For the first time, they have to put the object before themselves."
Actors are accustomed to being in the spotlight, but in puppetry, Ong explains, you have to learn how to disappear. "You need enough empathy to understand that this inanimate object is the star of the show, not you."
MAGIC OF PUPPETRY
The magic of puppetry pulled Ong deeper into its enchanting world. "Imagine this," he says quietly, "I'm taking a piece of wood or plastic, putting it in front of you, and saying, 'Hey, this is real!' That's the magic." He pauses, eyes glinting with the wonder that puppetry continues to hold for him.
"People often say puppetry is for children, but nope," he continues, adding: "The most powerful stuff is actually for adults. If an adult is willing to step into a room, suspend their disbelief for however long, and believe that these puppets are real, that's a kind of black magic to me and it's incredible."
His passion for puppetry eventually led him to London, where he enrolled in the Curious School of Puppetry, a training programme designed for adults seeking to expand their professional work and creative practice in puppetry.
Initially, he'd hoped to secure a grant to pursue a masters degree in site-specific theatre practice. But when the funding didn't come through, he pivoted. "I still went ahead and attended the puppetry school full-time instead of part-time, as I'd originally planned while pursuing my masters," he explains.
As fate would have it — or perhaps the puppets — Ong's star truly began to shine when he was selected to act in two prestigious West End productions during his time in London. "Within the first five weeks of being in school, I had my first casting," he says proudly. Ong landed roles in Spitting Image, the Musical and My Neighbour Totoro, marking a significant milestone in his career.
"I left my career in Singapore, gave up everything and took a huge chance by moving to London," he shares, reflecting on that bold decision. "I had a plan: pursue my masters and advance my theatre career, but things didn't pan out the way I expected. Instead, my path veered in a direction I never envisioned, and yet, it's been one of the most rewarding turns my life has taken."
He pauses, a smile creeping onto his face. "I have puppetry to thank for that. It opened doors I didn't even know existed, and took me on an adventure I never saw coming."
Now that he's back in Singapore, the call of the puppets is drawing him in once more, like a siren's song. "I'm at a stage where I want to do impactful work," he says thoughtfully. "I've accomplished everything I dreamt of professionally. Maybe now it's time to give back."
With puppets? I tease, and he laughs.
"Perhaps," he replies, before musing: "There's something about puppetry… it's got this power to touch people in unexpected ways. Maybe that's how I can make a difference."
So, the puppet master is once again at work, meticulously breathing life into his creations to tell a new kind of story — one that speaks of nature, conservation and the beauty of wildlife. With each puppet he crafts, Ong taps into the magic of this ancient art form, knowing that these inanimate objects have the power to move audiences in profound ways.
"Puppets can do something special," he concludes, adding: "They can transcend words, touch hearts and tell stories that stay with people long after the show ends."
Perhaps, as Ong believes, these lifeless figures carry within them a certain magic — one that can inspire change and illuminate the beauty of the world around us.