Category: Entertainment.

The Creature and the Horse

Weekends are a mystery. You yearn for it for five straight days. When it falls, you sleep through it. Waking up, both ways, in the evening of a Sunday is jarring.

And so it goes.

Back to what we witnessed over two weekends.

* * *

I have tried to visit the NT archives to watch Frankenstein. Suffice to say, my lack of planning didn’t get me anywhere. Hence, it was a real treat to watch it on the large projection at the Esplanade Theaters. Being the last showing in the calendar, the crowd was surprisingly large and squeaky. Well, the squeaky part was not a surprise. After all it was the version where Benedict Cumberbatch tumbled around half-naked.

Through the eyes of the Creature, Boyle and Dear allowed the audience to learn with him on his newfound sensations, to cheer for his survival, and to sympathise with his longing for companionship. Standing in stark physical contrast yet mirrored as the Doctor’s darker persona, blazing under the huge canopy of light, Cumberbatch and Miller delivered the roles as complements. Within a simple stage setting, they brought alive (pun intended) the purity of basic human desires and the hopelessness of pursuing perfection.

Perhaps because I am familiar with the original book, I am happy that they downplayed the main themes. It would have been expected. It would not have caused a permanent forward lean.

* * *

My affinity with horses begin from, well, the very beginning. Their grace amazes me. Their galloping power stuns me. And also, I am secretly envious of their mane, one that is much more tamed than my own. So naturally, I was more than excited to visit the big white tents.

Beyond an equestrian performance, Cavalia brings together the natural beauty of the two worlds. The majestic horses weaved effortlessly through the stage in beautifully choreographed routines amongst flowing costumes and unbridled riders. The live orchestra was remarkable where it paced the high-spirited tempo and maintained the seamless transitions. As the studs pumped through the scenes, the powerful and loving intimacy between man and horse was tingling and endearing.

I cared for the performance more than I expected that I would. Not because I fell really ill that morning, but because it was touted as a circus act. Thankfully, it was not even close.

Does it ever go away?

At some point, it becomes bearable. It turns into something that you can crawl out from under and… carry around like a brick in your pocket. And you… you even forget it, for a while. But then you reach in for whatever reason and – there it is… Which could be awful – not all the time. It’s kinda not that you’d like it exactly… So, you carry it around. And uh… it doesn’t go away. Which is… fine, actually.

Yes it’s fine actually. It will be. It has to.

Breaking (away from) Bad

As much as it is rough to imagine, I am actually glad that Breaking Bad is ending in this season. You know how a relationship can be glorious yet highly combustible? That’s how I feel about my attraction.

The show bothers me. It bothers me like a lover from whom you cannot get away. You stick around because you had good days and still love the regular ones. On bad days, you really believe you can pick up the mess and move on. It bothered me when Jesse still called him Mr White when he thought he had poisoned Brock. It was a moment of utter distrust and disgust and yet, not a whole lot had changed between them. Awakening.

Perhaps this is it. Our notion of a relationship is defined by the past, by the slate of memory when the bond was first created. It is this illusion that determines the lifespan, sustains it, and pieces things back. And yes, I do realise that it is just a television show. It bothers me, that’s all.

So. If it doesn’t end soon, the intensity of (whatever this is) will probably give me a heart attack.

Ruby Sparks

As the film credits rolled, I headed straight for the tiny bathroom and stared at my reflection for a long time. I still don’t know what came over me.

Maybe it is about the writing. About how it releases the tension. How you can be distanced from the emotions. In my dreams, I can do what I want but yet I don’t realise that I want that. It is this freedom and the happiness. Or maybe it is the possibility of forming an inexplicable affection for someone, even unreal.

Calvin had absolute control over Ruby. Yet he was happiest when she was just herself. She had no control and she didn’t know. Yet it didn’t stop her from being herself. This is perhaps the essence – having control can make you happy with the now, and only that. Having none does not mean you stop developing a semblance of worth.

This is the true and impossible story of my very great love… All the same, I cannot help but write this for her, to tell her “I’m sorry for every word I wrote to change you, I’m sorry for so many things. I couldn’t see you when you were here and, now that you’re gone, I see you everywhere.” One may read this and think it’s magic, but falling in love is an act of magic, so is writing.

Welcome onboard!

I don’t get myself sometimes. I become so obsessed, so deeply, and for such prolonged period of time. It truncates my attention span, diminishes my interest in routine necessity, and quite literally kills off my relationships. Yet, I do it everyday.

Well, yea. Back to Cabin Pressure.

John Finnemore (@johnfinnemore) writes like my college Literature professor who muses in her head in spectacular rhyme. He sounds like my 25 year old cousin who doesn’t want to leave school. And he looks like my neighbour. Quite serious.

Not that I know other alternatives, this group of actors has developed a chemistry that makes you root for everyone and also falls over at their shortcomings. Much like in Friends. I appreciate the sharp and satirical characterisation through wild imagination for stakes and bets and keen observation and reflection of the human behaviour. As a person who can recite regular cabin addresses from memory, John has truly added a fresh burst of zest to inflight entertainment.

Anyway, I am writing this entry only because I have inevitably left my iPod in the office. Riding out the hour long commute with regular radio broadcast is boring. So very boring.

While I won’t play yellow car or travelling lemon, when I do spy one, I will always feel like I have a secret. And the day I snap out of this, which I will, it would have been a fun ride.

Weekends with family

If not for the travel freeze, I would not have been able to enjoy two consecutive weekends with the family. It is rather odd that every year, at this time, I will be away. Anyway, it is getting addictive.

It was mighty sunny last weekend but we were thoroughly child-ified at Universal Studios Singapore. Colours and music and smiles. There were alot of smiles! The park is extremely disabled- and senior-friendly. We were very impressed and encouraged (except for one guy whose ankle is made of precious gold).

Captivated @ Universal Studios Singapore


Instead of a regular party, the celebration took place in a bowling alley. I am very amazed by the ‘bumpers’ for children. For uninitiated, the bumpers will prevent gutter rolls. It was a special day, especially for the birthday boy who is obsessed with the sport.

Celebration with Bowling


This is what weekends are for. Truly.

None shall sleep

“People’s reactions to opera the first time they see it is very dramatic; they either love it or they hate it. If they love it, they will always love it. If they don’t, they may learn to appreciate it, but it will never become part of their soul.”
– Edward Lewis, Pretty Woman

Opera in the (Botanic) Park

The turnout for Opera in the Park was so much bigger than that seen for Fall in love with Warsaw last July. Well, most were there for the free entertainment for their picnic and/or social networking. For the few, we held back rising to our feet when the emotions were elevated high on the B note.

I don’t know if I like Opera. I know I am in love with the emotions conveyed. I love how my goosebumps and breath foretell my reactions before I can sense it. I love the way I gaze at the performer with such detailed imagery in my head when I don’t know what he is singing about.

Dilegua, o notte! Tramontate, stelle! Tramontate, stelle! All’alba vincero!

It was a splendid evening. It was even greeted with our dear SAF pilots (i.e. NDP rehearsals).