S'porean actor Adrian Pang plays doctor in BBC series Doctor Who's latest episode -- but not that Doctor
S'porean actor Adrian Pang plays doctor in BBC series Doctor Who's latest episode -- but not that Doctor
Singaporean actor Adrian Pang has a minor role in the latest episode of the long-running BBC science fiction TV series Doctor Who.
Entitled The Story And The Engine, the episode premiered on streaming service Disney+ on May 10. The series stars Ncuti Gatwa as the Doctor and Varada Sethu as his companion Belinda Chandra,
Pang played a doctor in a hospital scene with Sethu who played a nurse. His lines consisted mostly of medical jargon.
In the credits, his character is listed as "Consultant" instead of "Doctor", probably to avoid confusion with the main character, who is "The Doctor".
Stomp has reached out to Pang for more info.
A co-founder of theatre company Pangdemonium with his wife Tracie, Pang is a familiar face on local stage, TV and the big screen. He starred in the 1998 movie Forever Fever and played Lee Kuan Yew in The LKY Musical in 2015 and 2022.
Click here to contribute a story or submit it to our WhatsApp
Get more of Stomp's latest updates by following us on:
Share this article
Show Comments
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Straits Times
5 hours ago
- Straits Times
Frederick Forsyth, 'Day of the Jackal' author, dies at 86
FILE PHOTO: British novelist Frederick Forsyth smiles during an interview with Reuters at his home near Hertford, England, July 26, 2006. REUTERS/Kieran Doherty (BRITAIN)/File Photo LONDON - British novelist Frederick Forsyth, who authored best-selling thrillers such as "The Day of the Jackal" and "The Dogs of War," has died aged 86, his publisher said. A former correspondent for Reuters and the BBC, and an informant for Britain's MI6 foreign spy agency, Forsyth made his name by using his experiences as a reporter in Paris to pen the story of a failed assassination plot on Charles de Gaulle. "The Day of the Jackal", in which an English assassin, played in the film by Edward Fox, is hired by French paramilitaries angry at de Gaulle's withdrawal from Algeria, was published in 1971 after Forsyth found himself penniless in London. Written in just 35 days, the book was rejected by a host of publishers who worried that the story was flawed and would not sell as de Gaulle had not been assassinated. De Gaulle died in 1970 from a ruptured aorta while playing Solitaire. But Forsyth's hurricane-paced thriller complete with journalistic-style detail and brutal sub-plots of lust, betrayal and murder was an instant hit. The once poor journalist became a wealthy writer of fiction. "I never intended to be a writer at all," Forsyth later wrote in his memoire, "The Outsider - My Life in Intrigue". "After all, writers are odd creatures, and if they try to make a living at it, even more so." So influential was the novel that Venezuelan militant revolutionary Illich Ramirez Sanchez, was dubbed "Carlos the Jackal". Forsyth presented himself as a cross between Ernest Hemingway and John le Carre - both action man and Cold War spy - but delighted in turning around the insult that he was a literary lightweight. "I am lightweight but popular. My books sell," he once said. His books, fantastical plots that almost rejoiced in the cynicism of an underworld of spies, criminals, hackers and killers, sold more than 75 million copies. Behind the swashbuckling bravado, though, there were hints of sadness. He later spoke of turning inwards to his imagination as a lonely only child during and after World War Two. The isolated Forsyth discovered a talent for languages: he claimed to be a native French speaker by the age of 12 and a native German speaker by the age of 16, largely due to exchanges. He went to Tonbridge School, one of England's ancient fee-paying schools, and learned Russian from two emigre Georgian princesses in Paris. He added Spanish by the age of 18. He also learned to fly and did his national service in the Royal Air Force where he flew fighters such as a single seater version of the de Havilland Vampire. THE REPORTER Impressing Reuters' editors with his languages and knowledge that Bujumbura was a city in Burundi, he was offered a job at the news agency in 1961 and sent to Paris and then East Berlin where the Stasi secret police kept close tabs on him. He left Reuters for the BBC but soon became disillusioned by its bureaucracy and what he saw as the corporation's failure to cover Nigeria properly due to the government's incompetent post-colonial views on Africa. It was in 1968 that Forsyth was approached by the Secret Intelligence Service, known as MI6, and asked by an officer named "Ronnie" to inform on what was really going on in Biafra. By his own account, he would keep contacts with the MI6, which he called "the Firm", for many years. His novels showed extensive knowledge of the world of spies and he even edited out bits of The Fourth Protocol (1984), he said, so that militants would not know how to detonate an atomic bomb. His writing was sometimes cruel, such as when the Jackal kills his lover after she discovers he is an assassin. "He looked down at her, and for the first time she noticed that the grey flecks in his eyes had spread and clouded over the whole expression, which had become dead and lifeless like a machine staring down at her." THE WRITER After finally finding a publisher for "The Day of the Jackal," he was offered a three-novel contract by Harold Harris of Hutchinson. Next came "The Odessa File" in 1972, the story of a young German freelance journalist who tries to track down SS man Eduard Roschmann, or "The Butcher of Riga". After that, "The Dogs of War" in 1974 is about a group of white mercenaries hired by a British mining magnate to kill the mad dictator of an African republic - based on Equatorial Guinea's Francisco Macias Nguema - and replace him with a puppet. The New York Times said at the time that the novel was "pitched at the level of a suburban Saturday night movie audience" and that it was "informed with a kind of post‐imperial condescension toward the black man". Divorced from Carole Cunningham in 1988, he married Sandy Molloy in 1994. But he lost a fortune in an investment scam and had to write more novels to support himself. He had two sons - Stuart and Shane - with his first wife. His later novels variously cast hackers, Russians, al Qaeda militants and cocaine smugglers against the forces of good - broadly Britain and the West. But the novels never quite reached the level of the Jackal. A supporter of the United Kingdom's exit from the European Union, Forsyth scolded Britain's elites for what he cast as their treachery and naivety. In columns for The Daily Express, he gave a host of withering assessments of the modern world from an intellectual right-wing perspective. The world, he said, worried too much about "the oriental pandemic" (known to most as COVID-19), Donald Trump was "deranged", Vladimir Putin "a tyrant" and "liberal luvvies of the West" were wrong on most things. He was, to the end, a reporter who wrote novels. "In a world that increasingly obsesses over the gods of power, money and fame, a journalist and a writer must remain detached," he wrote. "It is our job to hold power to account." REUTERS Join ST's Telegram channel and get the latest breaking news delivered to you.
Vogue Singapore
12 hours ago
- Vogue Singapore
Meet the trailblazers: Hunn Wai on cultivating the future of Singapore design
When DesignSingapore Council brought the third iteration of its Future Impact showcase to Milan Design Week this year, the exhibition saw the involvement of a Singaporean co-curator for the first time. As the director and co-founder of internationally renowned Singapore-and Milan-based creative studio Lanzavecchia + Wai, Hunn Wai is a prominent name in the design world—a designer, educator and thought leader in the field. Spotlighting future-forward works dreamt up by rising Singaporean creatives in response to today's important global challenges, the exhibition is a reflection and extension of Wai's belief that the most vital designs of all are meaningful ones shaped by intention, authenticity and thoughtfulness. Tell us your origin story. How did you first fall in love with design? I must've been five or six when I declared that I wanted to be a car designer. Even then, I wasn't just interested in how things looked. I was fascinated by why they looked a certain way, and how colours, proportions and forms came together logically and beautifully. Art became a core part of my identity, but pursuing art or design was seen as uncertain and less stable then. I was all set to pursue architecture—what felt like the 'acceptable creative profession'—when I saw that NUS (National University of Singapore) was offering industrial design as a brand-new degree. In my first year there, something clicked. I discovered that design had the vocabulary, the frameworks and the tools to help me make sense of everything I was curious about, from engineering and anthropology to psychology and aesthetics. That was the moment I truly fell in love with design, not just as a profession, but as a philosophy and a way of understanding the world. How has your relationship with design evolved over the years? A pivotal moment came when I pursued my Master's in the Netherlands, at a time when the Droog design movement was making waves globally. Droog, which is Dutch for 'dry', was less about designing for utility and more about embedding narrative and wit into everyday objects. As my practice matured, I sought to combine the two worlds of critical, story-rich design and grounded, user-centred industrial design. In the last 12 years, my connection to design has evolved even further through teaching. I now see design not just as the creation of products, but as the shaping of people: of mindsets, values and ways of seeing. Today, my relationship with design is less about creating more objects, and more about enabling deeper thinking. 'Too often, innovation is framed around metrics, but I believe we also need to design for the spirit of society.' What is the biggest challenge you have faced throughout your career and how did you overcome it? One of the biggest challenges is the ongoing tension of how to make sense of it all while wearing many hats and still staying true to myself. As a designer, studio co-founder, educator, cultural contributor and now curator, the gear- shifting can be creatively energising, but also deeply draining. What helped me begin to overcome this wasn't a single breakthrough, but a series of shifts in mindset and practice. I stopped designing to prove something and started designing to contribute something. I began designing my life with the same care I would apply to a product—protecting deep focus hours, making space for reflection and building teams where strengths complemented each other. Teaching has played a big role in this evolution. Mentoring younger designers reminded me that design isn't just about output. It's about mindset, process and intention. Often, the challenges we face become the tools that make us better collaborators, better thinkers and more grounded human beings. As a leader in the scene, what do you think is the importance of mentorship and building a community? Mentorship is incredibly important to me because the path of a designer is rarely straightforward. It's not just about having a portfolio or a process. It's about how you navigate ambiguity, align your values with your work and sustain yourself emotionally, mentally and creatively through it all. When I mentor, I try to share not just the polished highlights, but the real behind-the-scenes journey which includes messiness, doubt and pivots. As for community, it's everything. Design isn't a solo act. A strong community multiplies intention, energy and impact. It also creates a shared culture where we feel less alone, where we can learn from each other's stories and support each other's growth. Looking forward, what is one change you hope to spark in the design scene in Singapore and how does this align with your vision for the industry? To bring more humanity into the innovation we create in Singapore. Too often, innovation is framed around metrics—productivity gains, KPIs, scale—but I believe we also need to design for the spirit of society. In a world that's rapidly flattening, this kind of cultural nuance and emotional resonance becomes not just valuable, but essential. I want to see more humanistic solutions—those that might make someone pause and say: 'Yes, this reflects who we are' or 'That helps me live more beautifully and thoughtfully'. To make that shift, I believe we need to reinvest in the arts, culture and the social sciences. The future won't be short on technology. But what's at risk of being neglected (because it's harder to measure) is our imagination, emotional intelligence and sense of purpose. My hope is to help shape a design culture in Singapore that values both technical excellence and soulful expression—a culture where innovation is not just about what's next, but about what's meaningful. Pre-order your copy of the Vogue Man 'Gold' issue online or pick it up on newsstands from 13 June 2025.
Vogue Singapore
12 hours ago
- Vogue Singapore
Meet the trailblazers: How SRT's Gaurav Kripalani has shaped Singapore's theatre scene
In his 29 years with Singapore Repertory Theatre (SRT), artistic director Gaurav Kripalani has produced over 150 works. His portfolio spans a diverse range, from original local scripts to theatre's biggest classics. Under his helm, SRT was the first Singaporean theatre company on Broadway—as associate producer of the play Golden Child in 1998, which would then go on to be nominated for three Tony Awards. In addition, the importance that Kripalani places on arts education has seen SRT become one of the most prominent producers and commissioners of children's theatre in Southeast Asia. A theatre veteran who has always championed the local arts scene, he was also the festival director of the Singapore International Festival of Arts from 2018 to 2021. Tell us your origin story. How did you first fall in love with theatre? I was seven or eight when I acted in my first play, and that was it. I was hooked. From that moment, I knew theatre was what I wanted to dedicate my life to. I pursued it in school, earned a degree in acting, and eventually, the opportunity at SRT came along. I count myself incredibly fortunate. Most people spend years searching for their calling, but I found mine early and never looked back. How has your relationship with theatre evolved over the years? These days, my role as artistic director doesn't leave much time for acting, ironically, even though I could technically cast myself. But the evolution has been meaningful. I taught myself how to be a producer back when there wasn't a playbook. Everything was trial and error. I had a mantra: if we were going to crash and burn, we'd do it in style. We took bold financial risks and thankfully, many of them paid off. That passion is still the same, but now it's channelled through empowering others and building something larger than myself. 'We're doing our part to shape a renaissance city, one where we not only feed minds but nourish souls.' What is the biggest challenge you have faced throughout your career and how did you overcome it? Working in the non-profit arts sector means challenges are a daily affair, but that's part of the thrill. In the early days, we had no money at SRT. We'd use ticket revenue from one show to pay the debts of the previous one. If a production underperformed, creditors would chase us for months. Every morning, from 10am to noon, I was on the phone pleading for extensions. It was humbling and character-building. The turning point came in 2002 with Forbidden City: Portrait of an Empress, the opening musical at the then brand-new Esplanade Theatre. It was a huge leap of faith and it paid off. For the first time, we turned a profit. From then on, I made a promise: we would never operate in debt again and every actor, supplier and collaborator would be paid promptly. That commitment has never wavered. As a leader in the scene, what do you think is the importance of mentorship and building a community? Though I see myself as something of a maverick, I've reached an age—and a point in my career—where I'm probably considered a veteran in the Singapore theatre scene. SRT has grown into one of the country's largest theatre companies, but our vision extends beyond the stage. A few years ago, we launched the Centre for Creative Learning to house all our education initiatives. We work with students and teachers in schools, train young actors and offer year-long paid residencies to those exploring different facets of theatre-making. It's clear to us that investing in the next generation is as important as producing great theatre. Building a sustainable, inclusive and inspired community is now one of the core pillars of our work. Looking forward, what is one change you hope to spark in the theatre scene in Singapore and how does this align with your vision for the industry? My vision is simple: that one day, when people in Singapore have a free evening, their first thought isn't, 'What should I watch on Netflix?', but rather, 'Which play or musical should I see tonight?'. One way we're working towards that is through The Little Company (TLC), our dedicated children's theatre division. We believe passionately that if you introduce children to high-quality theatre at a young age, they'll become arts lovers for life. Children who came to see our shows two decades ago are now buying tickets to Shakespeare in the Park and some are even bringing their own kids to TLC performances. It's a long game, but a vital one. I like to think we're doing our part to shape a renaissance city, one where we not only feed minds but nourish souls. Pre-order your copy of the Vogue Man 'Gold' issue online or pick it up on newsstands from 13 June 2025.
