Saturday, January 29, 2005

Green pigs and apple men.

Saw Martin McDonagh's The Pillowman at the Oxford Playhouse last night. Absolutely terrified the life out of me. Not in the way that theatre usually does, but in a way that had me jumping out of my seat at one point. The couple in front of me left during the interval and didn't come back - and that was before the play got on to child crucifixion. F**king powerful stuff though and for all the large moments of utter horror, it also had a couple of smaller, quieter moments of utter heartbreak or joy breaking through. I think those were the moments that made it for me; somehow in the midst of the carnage and violence it never lost its humanity. There was still something pushing up, refusing to be anhilated, refusing to let go.

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