This Vicious Cabaret

This Vicious Cabaret

Lyrics and score by Alan Moore, from the graphic novel V for Vendetta
Performed by David J.


They say that there's a broken light for every heart on Broadway.
They say that life's a game, then they take the board away.
They give you masks and costumes and an outline of the story
Then leave you all to improvise their vicious cabaret...

In no-longer-pretty cities there are fingers in kitties.
There are warrants, forms, and chitties and a jackboot on the stair.
Sex and death and human grime, in monochrome for one thin dime,
But at least the trains all run on time but they don't go anywhere.
Facing their Responsibilities either on their backs or on their knees
There are ladies who just simply freeze and dare not turn away
And the widows who refuse to cry will be dressed in garter and bow-tie
And be taught to kick their legs up high in this vicious cabaret.

At last! The 1998 Show!
The ballet on the burning stage.
The documentary see
Upon the fractured screen
The dreadful poem scrwled upon the crumpled page...

There's a policeman with an honest soul that has seen whose head is on the pole
And he grunts and fills his briar bowl with a feeling of unease.
But he briskly frisks the torn remains for a fingerprint or crimson stains
And endevours to ignore the chins that he walks in to his knees.
while his master in the dark nearby inspects the hands, with a brutal eye,
That have never brushed a lover's thigh but have squeezed a nation's threat.
But he hungers in his secret dreams for the harsh embrace of cruel machines
But his lover is not what she seems and she will not leave a note.

At last! The 1998 Show!
The Situation Tragedy
Grand Opera slick with soap
Cliffhangers with no hope
The water-colour in the flooded gallery...

There's a girl who'll push but not shove and is desperate for her father's love
She believes the hand beneath the glove maybe one she needs to hold.
Though she doubts her hosts moralities she decides she is more at ease
In the Land Of Doing What You Please than outside in the cold.
But the backdrop's peel and the sets give way and the cast gets eaten by the play
There's a murderer at the Matinee, there are dead men in the aisles
And the patrons and actors too are uncertain if the show is through
And with side-long looks await their cue but the frozen mask just smiles.

At last! The 1998 Show!
The torch-song no one ever sings
The curfew chorus line
The comedy divine
The bulging eyes of puppets strangled by their strings

There's thrills and chills and girls galore, sing-songs and surprises
There's something hear for everyone, (reserve your seat today)
There's mischief and malarkies but no queers or yids or darkies
Wwithin this bastard's carnival, this vicious cabaret.

(c) 1982-89/V for Vendetta--Story by Alan Moore, Art by David Lloyd/Vertigo Comics/ V for Vendetta partners

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I've always wondered how this song would sound when I first read the words and saw the score on my copy of V for Vendetta. As expected, everything V is pure awesome.

Of fliggers and balimbing and national identity

Ilustrado (Miguel Syjuco, 2008)

The back cover of the book says:

"To understand the death (of his teacher, Crispin Salvador), Miguel scours his teacher's life, piercing together Salvador's story through his poetry, interviews, novels, polemics, and memoirs. The result is a rich and dramatic family saga of four generations, tracing 150 years of Philippine history forged under the Spanish, the Americans, and the Filipinos themselves. Finally, we are suprised to learn that this story belongs to Miguel as much as to his lost mentor, and we are treated to an unhindered view of a society caught between reckless decay and hopeful progress."

Miguel (in the story) patches up the life story of his mentor, his own, and of his Motherland, while Ilustrado tries to unravel and solve the enigma that is the Philippines--the Philippine literature and all its potential, the Filipino people themselves, and the despondent country that holds them together.

The mere premise of Syjuco's debut novel excited me but I wasn't honestly prepared for the awe-inspiring story it truly is. It is wrought with themes adeptly ingrained, thoroughly witty, and possesses a pleasant brand of humour that takes the reader by surpise at times. With a host of narrative devices and techniques, with brilliant use of language, Ilustrado sets out to be a work of fiction that is both complex and aggressive. A truly remarkable and splendid read crafted by an undeniable lit virtuoso.

The ultimate E/C conclusion

Love Never Dies (2012)

(c) 2012 Andrew Lloyd Webber/ The Really Useful Theater Group/ Love Never Dies Film partners

Ten years had transpired since the "strange affair of the Phantom of the Opera," a decade since the prima donna Christine Daaé and the Vicomte Raoul de Chagny met their fate at the lair of the Opera Ghost at the bottom of the Opera Populaire in Paris. Christine, by then a popular diva in Paris, receives an invitation for a performance by a mysterious impressario, and needing the money to pay the debts of her now-alcoholic husband Vicomte de Chagny, she travels to America and arrives at the lively and bustling entertainment center of Coney Island with her husband and her ten year-old son, Gustave. In the shores of this island, Christine is reunited with her old friends and the Phantom himself. What follows is a whirlwind of events that puts Christine once more in a situation where her choice would affect lives and lost loves.

Love Never Dies is Andrew Lloyd Webber's sequel to his immensely popular musical The Phantom of the Opera. The DVD features the show's Australian production, and begins with The Phantom (Ben Lewis) singing "Til I Hear You Sing," professing his longing for his love, Christine Daaé (Anna O'Byrne). The montage that follows establishes Phantasma, the flamboyant amusement park in Coney Island owned by an anonymous Mr. Y. Christine, along with Raoul (Simon Gleeson) and son Gustave (Jack Lyall), soon finds herself once more in the center of The Phantom's lair, and meets her friends from Paris Opera, Madame Giry (Maria Mercedes) and Meg Giry (Sharon Millerchip).

(c) 2012 Andrew Lloyd Webber/ The Really Useful Theater Group/ Love Never Dies Film partners 

With lavish staging, lights and costumes for the fanfare of Phantasma, revolving sets for the plush hotel rooms for rendez-vous, grandiose cellars and make-believe world of dreams, Love Never Dies does not lack anything visually. The Sydney stage deserves the accolades it received for the re-establishment of The Phantom's world of gothic beauty and mystery. Webber's music seamlessly floats through the story as well, with new haunting melodies, from operatic arias (the title song "Love Never Dies") and upbeat vaudevillian euphonies (such as "Bathing Beauty") to melancholic duets ("Once Upon Another Time") and heart-racing quartets ("Devil Take the Hindmost"). The show also features reprisals of familiar tunes from The Phantom of the Opera, a few lines and melodies here and there, such as "All I Ask of You," "Stranger Than You Dreamt It," and "Twisted Every Way."

Some of the lyrics, however, seem to border on the trite. And though truly well-acted, especially O'Byrne as the beautiful, maternal and affectionate Christine, and Lewis as the malefic, desperate yet tender Phantom, the story as a whole turned into a melodrama of a love triangle. Furthermore, I find the characterizations, particularly of Meg Giry and the Vicomte de Chagny, stretched a bit too far, turning them into (perhaps unnecessary) villains. I am also a little piqued by the Phantom's often-sardonic intonations, although the presence and voice of Gustave adds a little mellowing to the overall sharpness of everybody else. 

Love Never Dies indeed tried to offer a plausible end to the fateful story of Christine and the Phantom, but it engendered loss of the appeal of the classic novel it was derived from. I think the story was trivialized, although I could always use some of the more beautiful tracks (and renditions) from the show. 

Confessions of an Arashic: The fan in me in retrospect

There was a time when what I wanted to be the most  was to be someone involved in a television show production. Not somebody seen on cam, but one who remains behind the scene. But it has to be in a Japanese television network.

I didn't care what I'd be--a scriptwriter, a voice-over, a cameraman, a researcher of those weird ideas that make up Japanese variety shows, a production assistant, a proofreader  for their English texts (I keep seeing their need for one), a gaffer--I didn't care. I just wanted to be there. It was the only way, I thought, that I could get as close to Arashi as possible.

For the past few days, this wish is being rekindled. After my preoccupations on various things such as graduating, pondering on the direction my life will take, the gloriousness of the West End musical theater, the epicness that is Middle-Earth, and the two seasons of the US television series Game of Thrones, it is Arashi that I came back to. Once again, I am grinning ear to ear and laughing along the almost always childish antics of Ohno Satoshi, Sakurai Sho, Aiba Masaki, Ninomiya Kazunari, and Matsumoto Jun.

I'd like to believe I'm not one to get enthused by pop and dance music, but this... this boyband... is the exemption I have to this rule.

Raw photo (c) 2006 Arashi/J-Strom Inc./Johnny and Associates/ "ARASHIC" Album Partners

But then, it is more than their music that I've come to appreciate. Maybe it was their acting prowess in some of the series I've seen them in. Maybe it's Riida's exceptional dancing skills and awe-inspiring artworks, or his goofiness when surrounded by the other younger four's bullying. Maybe it's Nino's evident musical giftedness, be it on the guitar, on the piano, on songwriting, or maybe his stubbornness and bratiness that is oddly endearing. Maybe it's Aiba's humility despite his status, or his unfaltering sportiveness, and all the things that only he can do. Maybe it's Jun's Shin, Momo, and Domyouji that would always stick in my mind, or his unmistakable connection to the others disguised in cockiness. Maybe it's Sho-kun's eminent intelligence and his distinct manner of taking the lead, or his Sakurap. Or his chipmunk smile. Or his sloping shoulders.

Maybe it's their genuine friendship that resonates in the things they do, or the fact that unlike other groups, nobody in Arashi takes all the limelight while the others would fade into the background. Maybe the campiness of their performances serves as a break for me from the dreariness of life. (Their costumes are beyond belief, mind--some so baggy they're twice their body sizes, some so skimpy they make these males in their late 20's look like pubescent boys, while some glitter like there's no tomorrow, still others look like different scraps of cloth with odd prints sewn together. And don't get me started on their dance routines.)

Raw photos (c) 2010 Arashi/J-Storm Inc./Johnny and Associates/ "Boku no Miteiru Fuukei" Album Partners

Maybe it's their unabashed display of their imperfections that gets to me. I don't think it's such a surprise if it became known that these squeaky clean "Faces of Japan" are not all the goody two-shoes they appear to be--what with smoking and anti-fan issues, and other scandals that pop here and there about them. Maybe what I know of them is merely what I see of them on-screen and what they and the bigshots behind them would want viewers to believe, but their unmistakable chemistry and personalities that complement one another speak otherwise. And if ever what they have been showing are simply facades just so people would continue being invested on them, then they would have my respect still. Twelve years is no joke and all those times they have strived to build up an image just so they could go on and entertain people even though they have to wear masks as they do so. 

But then again, maybe I really don't need to justify why I like them at all. So until I have other reasons to outweigh that fact, I would keep supporting them, always taking the side of my imperfect and ridiculous boys who has never failed to make me laugh and brighten things up.

And maybe one day, hopefully soon enough, I would get to meet them and learn the reason that made them take me by storm. :3

La derniere jour du juin

Last Saturday night was my last day in the part-time job I've had for a little more than two years. And good bye's were said to the team mates I've had for so long.

Truth be told, I'm not much of a presence in such a company of raucous and often-conflicting personalities. The dynamics of the team was like the Internet connection at the office--kailangang pagtiyagaan, minsan hindi okay, minsan naman maayos at nakikisama, minsan "Tara, TK!"

Despite the effort of keeping a professional distance, I couldn't take those two years of togetherness lightly, especially since I used to be with them almost every night. I'd definitely miss those evenings of stress, WTF moments, snideness and conspiracies, stories, laughter, and huge appetite for pizza (or any kind of food for that matter). I'll miss the sharing/common pool of tons of movies and series, and those late-night Maginahawa St. escapades for our dose of milk tea, among other gustatory cravings.

It was the first work I've ever had and despite it being more of a routinary job, I have learned a lot--both from the work itself and beyond. I got to meet people who became my friends, and I hope would remain my good friends even after I have left.