Once upon a time, there was a small but prosperous city called Rompeii. The locals worked for only five hours in the morning, spent the early afternoon sleeping and partied the whole night until the wee hours of the morning before stumbling into their glass-and-metal offices with massive hangovers.
One day, a witch got distracted by Pinoy Idol while casting a spell and a large house crash-landed in the middle of Rompeii containing a goody-goody girl named Jennilyn and her dog, Gabby Concepcion. Jennilyn tried to socialize with the locals but they found her too uncool, even her sparkling ruby flats were frowned upon by the socialite fashionistas. Her dog, however, was a hit especially with the ladies.
Friendless and in despair, Jennilyn walked to the riverbank and cried piteously. The witch who accidentally stranded her there saw her through a crystal ball, felt sorry for her and made her house fly and land on her hard to end her pathetic life. The locals threw a huge party in celebration but a massive tsunami flattened the whole city and dragged all the houses and people to the sea–except for a piano bolted to the floor by an OCD nightspot owner.
Gabby Concepcion survived but as he ran to safety, he looked back and was turned into a barrel man souvenir item.
These days, nothing is left of Rompeii except the piano. The barrel man eventually starred in a movie.
When I watched The Piano, I was around Anna Paquin’s age when she won the Oscar (11). Because we rented it locally, all the juicy scenes were cut which made my parents confident about letting me and my very young brother Jiko watch it along with them. I didn’t get it then as I couldn’t understand how an attractive woman with a reasonably attractive husband could have an affair with a creepy looking guy because of a musical instrument. Granted, I was forced into getting piano lessons and could have been influenced by my hatred of it.
I want to see it now. Without cuts. Maybe added maturity would make Harvey Keitel look better.
Also, I hate all names ending with -lyn. It’s as if unimaginative parents took a decent-sounding name, stuck a lyn at the end and doomed the child to lifelong embarrassment. Jennilyn, Maylyn, Jovelyn, Ronnalyn, Crissalyn… you get what I mean.