i feel like if i wrote poetry no one would like it bc it would relate w such a specific/small group of ppl . idk it scares me somewhat bc what if i rly put effort into writing smth and then instead of relation i find isolation . like what if i put a lot of effort into writing smth and then like 2 ppl read it and go "...ok ://"
Anyways, thinking about how the musical perfectly translates Christian’s narration into a much more direct way. In the film he has a degree of separation, we first see him in the depths of his despair, we see the aftermath first. The narration is explained by it being his typewriting rather than to the audience itself. On stage you could technically do that, have him start at a desk or so forth but I like what they chose to do. We fall in love with a time and place, with a girl, alongside him.
The musical does follow the same “back in time” idea but to a greater extent. Instead of a screen edit we see Christian literally start the story by raising its title and setting the stage. (Some actors even have him sigh or prepare himself before hand further showing this). There’s a dazzling and mind boggling introduction only for him to stop it- go back to what he sees to be the beginning then directly jump in time again back to Satine’s introduction.
Here he jumps in and out of the story so seemlessly you sort of forget this is being told to you after it had all happened. Christian falls so easily back into the roll of himself, so wrapped in it all that he still has tears or a smile on his face as he talks to the audience.
It’s not a story being told it’s jumping back in time itself- he’s reliving it. It is a self inflicted time loop, no matter what way he tells the story- on paper, in song, or his memory. It won’t change. It may not be a literal time loop but it’s certainly someone settling back so easily into the role. Christian is so much a part of the story that it rattles him to the core when it ends and he has to find some semblance of explanation- he still struggles to end the show. To stop writing. It’s like she’s gone again, there’s nothing left to tell and suddenly there’s no more Satine.
The musical may not start at the end but it certainly does allow that Christian to poke through. When Satine is introduced you see that look in his eye, you see that joy when he explains meeting Toulouse and Santiago. Again the seamless narrator to player in the play. Love.
When you get this, please respond with five things that make you happy! then, send to your last ten people in your notifs (anonymously). you never know who might benefit from spreading positivity <3
i know that by canon, john's favourite music genre ( or at least the one he was really into for a period of his time ) is punk/rock, but. what if he's really into 80s pop music instead. what can dc do about it.
People call me a grinch for not liking Christmas music. I get so mad. I can’t even describe the incandescence of my fury. The first notes of any Christmas song make me want to hurl my tiny frail flesh prison against the offending speakers over and over until they cannot produce sound anymore.
There are, generously, about ten Christmas songs. Every fucking year. Every. Fucking. Year. I have to hear those same ten songs in a variety of fresh new tones, over and over and over and over and over. I go to sleep with them blasting across my consciousness, driven deep into my psyche with the relentless repetition.
When I worked retail I would spend 40 hours a week at my job. There’s four weeks in December but honestly most of my workplaces began the music in November and didn’t end it until the new year. So let’s call that six weeks a year. Forty hours a week. For over ten years.
That’s two thousand four hundred hours of fucking Christmas music.
That’s one hundred forty four thousand minutes of the same ten songs.
That’s eight million six hundred and forty thousand seconds of pure. Fucking. Hell.
And I will never be done. I don’t work retail anymore. But every fucking year if I leave my home in December I will have to listen to the same fucking songs I’ve been hearing my whole life. For millions of captive seconds. My suffering will never end.
Oh so if I want a string instrument I have to know what TYPE I want? Nobody is willing to put a board for a neck and some strings on any old box for me and call it a day? It has to be some min $200 masterpiece of craftsmanship?