The writer does not intend to but tends to make silly remarks that make others laugh. Sometimes she enjoys this unintentional trait of hers, and sometimes she detests it. But nevertheless, she loves to laugh at silly things, both good and bad, mostly little silly things, because she finds that life is too short to spend it sulking away. She also tends to be sarcastic with her words because the subtlety of dry humour makes her laugh even more and lightheartedly at those who "just don't get it."
Monday, November 19, 2007
Where do I even begin describing this extremely twisted and frightful yet delicious tale?
It's just not possible.
Nor is it possible for me to write something so brilliant in this lifetime, nor in the next, if there ever was a next.
It started out in a pretty cliche kind of detective questioning suspect sort of scenario, and yet the dialogue was more than all the swear words in it put together. We had to listen pretty closely for the wit in what the characters were saying, but I realised that half of it was wasted there and then because we only could understand the bulk of it after we had watched the entire play and backtracked to jog our memory a little i.e. "oh so that's why he said what he said."
Meeting the mentally retarded character was love at first sight. Well, not what you're thinking but I love his character and am totally convinced that the man is actually retarded. I know watching someone play a retarded character is usually related to something sad but I was really impressed. Hmm. Ok maybe I haven't watched that many people play retarded characters before.
Storytelling was one of the finer points of the play, and that's not just because I love stories, but I also loved the graphics they used to tell the stories instead of merely narrating, even if they were terribly gruesome. Yes, the stories were fiction containing grotesque scenarios which involved some slaughtering of children at one point.
And we enjoyed them very much.
Of course we did.
Who didn't?
Ok maybe except for certain individuals like the middle-aged couple next to me who couldn't stop groping each other during the play (I have no idea why since this is a psychological thriller kind of thing with absolutely no romance in it) and the bunch of "little" girls behind me who were complaining that it was too gruesome for them.
Anyway, yes we did enjoy the stories very much. It was the sort of thing you could read in some R-rated books or watch in some R-rated films or TV shows - the sort that could be so addictive it could get a lot of people into trouble, but well, that's exactly why we liked it.
As much as we hate to admit it, we're perverse people. The stories were what, I thought, kept the play going or kept it exciting so as to keep us on the edge of our seats. I really couldn't understand why the couple beside me left during the interval and never came back.
Perhaps they really were adverse to the "sickening" play.
Or perhaps they've decided (finally!!) to get it on at some cheap love motel nearby.
Not that I'm surprised. I mean, I've seen parents take their young ones to watch, of all things, The Dim Sum Dollies, and of all shows, it was the full-of-sex-and-sperms version. Obviously they didn't realise that by dim sum dollies, the creators didn't mean all dolls and playtime for little girls but for them to be highly sexualised objects.
Hmm.
Not that this is a fair comparison to the sex-crazed couple.
But I digress.
I loved the stories, down to the last footnote which never got published (in the play, I mean), especially The Pillowman. It's not that I'm biased because it is, incidentally, the name of the play I'm watching. In any case, nothing is incidental in that way. The Pillowman is the main story in the play, not just one of the few that got acted acted out in reality. It is the story of all stories, interweaved with all the 400 over stories that the main protagonist wrote, and with all the stories the playwright wrote.
For those of you who haven't got about to watching, The Pillowman is the story of this pillowman (literally a man made of pillows) and his job/function in this world is to cushion the blows of death for little children. He holds their hand and comforts them throughout the entire act. In case you're beginning to think what a complete insane and sick person I am, the pillowman does not "help" all little children die. He goes to the ones who are going to lead horrible lives and die horrible deaths and tells them of these details. Although he does prompt them to commit suicide to prevent these future horrors from happening, they still have the choice ultimately.
I know it's a story that isn't so easy to absorb - I took some time. It is frightening and yet it is somewhat comforting in that sense, which makes it difficult to decide whether or not such a pillowman should exist.
Well I haven't quite decided yet, even though I've already absorbed or are still absorbing the idea of a pillowman.
Wouldn't you like to have your own pillowman?
And I don't mean merely on the surface level of course.
7:47 pm
クロサギ
Grickle time
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Accidentally chanced upon Grickle on youtube and I've been hooked ever since.
For those of you with a quirky, might I add sadistic, sense of humour or are drawn irresistibly to the dark side (no pun intended), this is for you. Enjoy :)
This is not for the faint-hearted.
I repeat, this is not for the faint-hearted.
Warning to Kim and others about to take the exams: This is addictive as hell. Think facebook heh.
Ok, that said, these are some of my favourites:
5:45 pm
クロサギ
Been watching some good stuff
Monday, November 05, 2007
Recently have been on a row watching unintended yet excellent shows.
Sat afternoon was spent with Kim watching Good People, a play written by Haresh Sharma. It was at The Necessary Stage Black Box, which is all the way in Marine Parade, in some godforsaken basement with no carpark and very visitor-unfriendly, but we made it nonetheless after frantically tearing coupons at some shabby HDB carpark and running (well not exactly) towards Marine Parade Community Centre while receiving two, not one, calls from the organisers demanding whether or not we were going for the play.
So we were only about five minutes late for the show but they made us wait another ten minutes for a suitable blackout to let us in. At this, Kim and I stared daggers at the lady holding on to the latch of the door. Kim even managed a weak and hopeful smile at her, in the hopes of letting us in.
Fat hope obviously.
The atmosphere could be described tense, maybe not as tense as the one inside, but we were getting slightly impatient already.
Anyway we went in to discover we didn't miss much, meaning we could still follow the story. Good People was intense alright, we had this angmo guy in front of us who kept sniffing and reclining his head back to keep the tears from falling (well he was in the front row after all). Kim and I, who were already slightly cranky from the being late part, were made moodier. It was slightly depressing watching a play about people wanting to die.
It felt a bit like Beckett's work, only in the local context and probably less extreme, but I had no doubt about how it mirrors reality, which possibly made us even more disturbed than we already were.
Today was dragged by Tammy to watch Molière, a French film which I've been wanting to watch for some time but didn't have the chance to (actually the greater reason was that I'd probably have to go by myself and I was kind of lazy), and coincidentally Tammy asked me to watch today so I went, despite a cold coming on and all.
Well, no regrets here of course, I would even watch it again by myself because I really thought it was very interesting, one of the better French films I've seen in months.
Of course, the other fun bit of sneaking off after work to town to catch a movie was well, the sneaking off bit.
Heh I know I can be a bit of a prick sometimes, but I really enjoy watching something with not so many people in the same theatre/room as me.
Molière consisted of a range of excellent actors, which was required because well, it's about the life of Molière, the famous 17th Century French playwright, and so there were a lot of the "play in the film" kind of thing. It also had a great sense of humour, seeing how Molière excelled at comedies.
So by the time it ended, I was gearing for more. Damn, I really must get the DVD (well, that's another one on my long list of wanted DVDs).
And did I mention that after Good People, Kim and I proudly emerged with not one, but two local plays each, one a collection of plays by Chong Tze Chien and the other, Off Centre by Haresh Sharma?
Well, I left thinking that we must be one of the few who can go to a play and still end up buying something one way or another.
And I'm not even talking about Phantom souvenirs here. Hur hur.
