Tuesday, April 4, 2006
The Homecoming - A Personal Letter To The Director.
Dear Mr Gavin Yap,
Fuck you very much for shoving this piece of very disturbing play onto our faces. Seriously how the fuck did you get pass the censors? Vagina Monologues wasn't even allowed before. MJ wasn't even allowed to grab his crotch on stage. MJ okay. INTERNTIONAL SUPER STAR. AND YOU. you. YOU. YOU WERE ALLOWED TO PUT UP A PLAY. FOR ABOUT A WEEK OR SO. ABOUT A FOUL-MOUTHED, INCESTUOUS FAMILY. WITH A CHICK FACE SUCKING with not just ONe, but TWO men, ON STAGE and got her to emulate a SEX scene with some hunky boy. WTF?!?!?! How much did you pay them? Did it hurt when you try sitting down after they were done with you, you whore.
Did you know that right after I got home, I sat down and read through most of the production diary, to understand the whole production process, to understand just what the FUCK was in that twisted mind of yours when you wanted to put this up, and to understand what the rest of the cast felt. I did enjoyed the blog very much, by the way. Your personal thoughts in it as a director and how the rest of your insane crew were "in-character" when THEY blogged were very enjoyable and gave simple-minded folk like me a small peek into your little demented worlds.
The guilt-stricken driver/voyeur/uncle
But I digress.
Do you know that you're one sick twisted bugger? You most absolutely are.
Actually, not you, Pinter is. Pinter is a sick motherfucker. Freud would have a LOT to say about him. TO him.
During the Q&A session, you said you didn't want to send out a message, didn't want to make a statement. Unlike 99.9% of local productions which did. You said you wanted to do this for the fuck of it. You said you didn't really care what the audience felt, as long as they felt something, as long as they weren't indifferent about it.
I have bigger balls than you, Teddy.
What to know how I felt? I don't care. You HAVE to.
First, let me tell you that I was sitting there, RIGHT THERE, right in the FRONT ROW, which was on the SAME level as the set, as if I was IN the set like part of the furniture, which made me felt like I was standing precariously at the edge of a 100 floor building's roof, on tiptoe. Anytime now that Lenny would let the hammer go and break my knee. Anytime now Max's tongkat would hit my arm. Anytime now somebody would fling that white mug from being TOO in-character and it would land on my face in pieces.
Ruth is as scary as Chucky of child's play.
The whole thing was so believable that all I could do was just sit there, cringing at the edge of the seat for 2 whole fucking hours.
And after the goddamn play I felt drained.
Emotionally and mentally completely drained.
I wanted to watch 3 Walt Disney cartoons in a row.
Disney, please save me.
I wanted to lock myself in my room, blast my Limp Bizkit on maximum volume and ball up in a fetal position, crying while I'm rocking myself to sleep. And then bathe in a bathtub full of vodka to wash off the filth.
Eh, which gym you go to ah?
I didn't want to touch nobody talk to nobody. I didn't even fucking CAMWHORE, which by the way is just SOMETHING I DO. IT WAS MY THING. I ALWAYS CAMWHORE. ALWAYS. MY MIND WAS SO GONE I HAD COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN ABOUT CAMWHORING.
After this, I will never see families the same way again.
The word "tuck" is now a filthy, filthy word to me. As is "sip".
You have tainted me forEVER.
I hope you're happy now, you mindfucking bastard.
Ahem. What I was REALLY trying to say is that you were all fanfuckingtastic. The only reason I'm all fucked like this was because the direction and cast was brilliant enough to make the characters come alive, to make the play feel so damn REAL for me, as an audience.
But it still doesn't change the fact that the play totally raped my mind. Bitches.
P/s 1: I think you're quite hot. In a grunge/skater-boy/druggy/homeless person sort of way. Are you really going to be half naked in the next skit? Which half?
P/s 2: I saw you downing that bottle of Carlsberg just before the play started. You alcoholic.
P/s 3: While the ENTIRE cast was ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT, Lenny was my favourite character of all, even if he WAS the scariest one. If Hannibal Lector had a childhood he would've been a Lenny. Though sometimes.. the "accents" do get a little bit distracting.
Lenny scares me.
P/s 4: The lightning was superb. Mr Lim did a faNTASTIC job. I loved how the different lights were used to set different moods and to differentiate one room from another. Best light work I have EVER seen.
*I* had the scissors you flaming paedophilic homosexual bastard.
P/s: 5. Thanks for the invite, Patrick. Even if I did have to pay for my OWN ticket. Even if we had to go ALL THE FUCKING WAY to some godknowswhere secluded jungle of SENTUL, it was worth it.
The Homecoming Blog
Now if you'll all excuse me, I need to go fix myself a strong drink. To forget. Everything.
at 4:49 AM