I realise the title is a tad misleading.
To clear it up a bit, this blog entry is not about me suddenly chancing upon a glimmer of hope in Gloomyville.
Hell no, I am by default a happy lark these days.
You'd be justified in thinking that I might be a little down in the dump though, for my wobbly world is indeed in a glorious state of disarray. One that comes complete with irregular income (read: I've turned freelance for now), irregular hours (freelance doesn't mean I get to be freed from l-o-n-g working hours, albeit I'm based at home), and of course, the occasional emotional roller-coaster rides on a regular basis.
But surprise, surprise, I am feeling faaabulous, darrrling! Well, at least, I do feel that way most of the time - you'd have to excuse those
only-human downtime once in a while. I would blind you with a set of Hollywood-worthy pearly whites if I could, just to prove my point, but my dentist is holding them ransom till I hand over a minor fortune good enough for me to adopt a few World Vision children till well past my life expectancy.
So now, having set the facts straight on what this blog entry is not about, it's time to get the real topic going before you exit this site in frustrations, cursing and swearing that I am a lousy writer who didn't grasp the concept of economy of words nor the art of holding her readers' interest. Even more ghastly, one who's afflicted with a bad case of incoherence. That would be terrible. But there might just be some truth to it. Oh gawd.
Before this gets any worse, here's the topic of the day...*drumroll*...
Black Comedy.
I love black comedy. There is just so much beauty in the way these films are treated, where serious and disturbing subjects the likes of death, murder and sickness are played out in a humorous and satirical manner.
Normally, humour and satire would look out of place in such scenarios. Yet, they are like what a few squeezes of the lime is to Fried Hokkien Prawn Mee - they infuse a certain piquance to the films' heavy flavours.
At the same time, given the right plot/directing/acting, they tend to lend a heightened sense of poignancy to the characters' plights. In fact, the drama factor is usually a few notches higher than if the same subjects had been done in a typical high-octane way.
Most black comedy films I caught so far kicked off innocently with scenes where good cheer and a general sense of happiness seem to prevail. Then things began to go dangerously wrong, while the soundtrack maintained a determinedly light and pleasant note.
Like this particular music that's currently playing as you read this blog entry (play it now if you already turned it off...tsk tsk).
It's seems like any other easy-listening number at the beginning until the notes start to veer off-tangent and the mood shifts to something that's much darker and a little more dangerous.
This number, "Fairy Tales" by Great Uncles of the Revolution, would be perfect for one of the final few scenes of a black comedy where a femme fatale managed to get away with murder, literally.
In my warped imagination, at the start of the music, we see a femme fatale greeting her guests in a house in a cheery, animated fashion, with no tell-tale signs of what's to come. As the music continues, she's seen to be happily going about putting into action her intentions to kill, in an efficient manner.
The murder-in-progress scene then gently fades off to a scene of a nice open-air marketplace like those in European countries. A pair of shapely gams strolls past the various quaint little stalls, with the hem of a sundress swaying gently along to the movements. The owner of those gams stops to admire some roses. The camera moves in front of her and we see the murderous femme fatale taking a deep whiff of the blooms, a wide, innocent smile on her face. The film then signs off with a scene of the horrific mess of the murder site, with cops milling around collecting evidence, snapping pictures.
Obviously, these final few scenes should ideally incorporate an unexpected twist. But then I would need to work in a few more characters in order to do that, and I can't do that when there's not a story to begin with anyway. Ha.
Oh...and just so you know, in case you are in desperate need of some reassurances after reading this blog entry, I am perfectly sane and perfectly non-murderous. I don't even have a habit of entertaining frivolous murderous thoughts - ok, perhaps only when clients really, really, really rile me up.
But 'fess up, you are probably as guilty of that as I am.
1 comment:
You write very well.
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