The show is about to begin.
You wait with bated breath. Everyone else has shuffled into their seats, their hushed murmurs – What are we seeing again? This better be good – slinking between the odd cough, gasp and chuckle. This is the best moment, on the cusp, with the red curtains steadfastly shut. Anything is possible. Greatness awaits. Or, better yet, disaster. Something tragic, yes, that’s what we’re after isn’t it? Quiet, it’s starting!
My name is Omar, as you may have surmised by now. The inevitable disappointment is sinking in even now, the curtains have risen, your expectations have already been dashed. They always will be – such is the arrogance of expecting reality to bow to your (imagined) perception. But stay awhile. See the show play out, regardless. You’re here already, after all. You’ll have heard this before, I’m sure. See, I like to write occasionally – that is to say, I write often, but I’m not sure if I can say I ‘like’ it all that much – and I like to edit even more.
That feeling I described above is one I’m intimately familiar with, not just disappointment, ha, but just going to the show – be it film, stand up, theatre, or live music – and watching the story unfold. Each new moment, each new page, is a joy, bursting with potential. Seldom is that potential ever reached, or at least, to the level of satisfaction I’d like and that’s why I’m here, that’s why I do what I do, why I write and review – it’s to search out those moments, those indescribable joys, sometimes buried beneath mountains of bad dialogue, crushed between unwieldy adjectives or welded seamlessly to stories. Wherever they may be, however difficult it is to find them, that’s what I’ll do and if I find them, I’d like to report them here.
Of course, it’s not always so serious or melodramatic. I laugh at myself far too much for that to be the case. But I’m going to do it anyway, I’m going to have a ball doing so, and you’re all invited to come along with me. Just sit back.
And enjoy the show.