DOWNTOWN MAG WRITES .' A LO-FI MASTERPIECE... A VISIONARY POET OF EVERY MEDIUM '
'I FANCY BASTARDS'
THE BITING NEW INSTILLATION ART FILM FROM DOWNTOWN PERFORMANCE ARTIST EXTRAORDINAIRE COUNTESS ZAPAK SEES HER ALTER EGO 'THE COUNTESS' GRAPPLING WITH CONFLICTED HUMAN EMOTIONS OF LOVE AND LOSS IN A SILENT PHOTO BOOTH COMEDY SUPERBLY ACTED .A GENIUS OF THE RAW APPROACH VERY FEW PERFORMERS WILL EVER MANAGE TO SAY SO MUCH WITH SO LITTLE. WHO ELSE BUT THE COUNTESS COULD CONJURE THE GHOST OF FELLINI SIMPLY WITH HER FACIAL EXPRESSIONS ,AN APPLEMAC , A POST IT NOTE PAD , AND A SHARPIE PEN ?
A RARE PERFORMANCE ARTISTS WHO MANAGE IN TURN TO BE TRAGIC ,SEXY AND EXTREMELY FUNNY THIS IS A BRAVE SELF- EXPOSED WORK IN THE TRADITION OF THE VERITE MATERIAL OF SPALDING GREY .USING MUNDANE TOOLS TO CREATE A STORY TELLING STYLE THAT IS UNIQUE AND GENUINELY MOVING . IT WILL NO DOUBT WIN HER MANY MORE ARDENT MUSIC FANS FOR SOUNDTRACK OF SPOKEN/SUNG POETRY .
HIGHLY RECOMMENDED *****
text BY.CORRINE EDWARDS
I FANCY BASTARDS ( BAD ASS AND DESOLATE ) song written by phil painson and countess alex zapak
'but i never meant to officer krupke
it wasn't my intention i blame it on my good upbringing
i just stood in the shadows of the suburbs hiding
and she came hurtling towards me
and i kept asking what the hell is wrong with you ?
why me ?
when i love knives ...
so she bought me one for my birthday
and i slapped her
naked co dependent
anxiety with a passion that i never know i had
in the face
and she just came ...like crazy...
in mine ...
hurtling towards the blade
part 2 ITALIAN DREAMS
'a catholic country
a childless mother
The big boys
And a small
Lit the remedy
In fragrant prisons
With Tongue - tied
Of other women.
No grass fed
No wedding guess
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THIS SHORT MONOLOGUE WON BEST MONLOGUE AT THE LA NEO NOIR FESTIVAL 2015
the mean shall inherit the earth
when life is so fleeting
where life is so fleeting
like your mother and father
like a daughter
and something wonderful
a song you 'll never hear again
the stain of a frequency inside
an unbearable ghost
the intense irritation of growing awareness
not to the death
just quick to the transforming
because i did not mean to kill you
when you're already so hindered
with you knee
and your arthritic past
like a russian novel
every page a misery
'cos they don't know how to treat their women
and its so fucking cold there
and they never grew tall enough
to get a suntan in Siberia ..
bless whatever got you running away
bless the fucking and freezing
'cos your moving...
you' re moving...so you're alive