Archivi tag: start
So he was there with his big smile, looking at you with his “sono molto gentile” look, “I don’t want
you any harm” Then with his molto dolce voice, he ask you “now take off your underwears”. You
couldn’t say no. Everyone took off their clothes one by one. So you do like your partners.
Than you are naked with all the others and you knew that the worst was about to come.
“you gonna do the autistic-asmathic-epileptic caracters whome you worked on yesterday and make
them grow with Gilles de la Tourette symptoms”.
And we all (gest) on se convultionnait, smashed our heads against the walls, yelled and cried
and rolled on the floor for hours while his 2 assistens were taking pictures. That was Benedetto’s
conception of art. And as an idiot I tought this was the way to reach the light, my salvation.
Anytime when we finished the improvvisation exhausted, sweeting and bleeding he just said: “ok
guys, this is your level 0, now we gonna take it to level 10.”.
− Benedetto, could I at least wear my underwear?
− No Gurshad. Covering your body is covering your soul.
And an actor must let the audience read deap in his soul. Learn to be an open vagina.
Lama saved me. We are married now. I met her just few days after she arrived in Paris for her
studied. I was just a shity, gipsy, arty, fucking idiot. She opened my eyes on all that crap. She asked
me if I belive in God and as a perfect brain-washed Benedetto’s actor I laught: “No, I don’t belive”
she looked at me with her dark eyes, beautiful vail, and said with compassion: “it must be terrible
to be empty like you.” and that’s true. I was empty. She showed me the way to the light ang got me
converted to Islam. We got married and moved to Syria, her homeland. She saved my soul. Now i
know that showing. any small part of my skin is giving a part of my soul to the devil.
La ila ha il Allah.
Mohammad Al Rassoul Allah
Il Lavatory on les Idiots…
Si… It was a strong exprerience…
We were 16, at the begining because one had a… anyway 15 nice people, trèsgentils vraiment and strong.
We were working a lot wich was great for the “fucking lazy bastards” we were, as
he said. About him, un huomo… oui une personne intéressante. Intersting certo.
When he was speaking… I mean speaking… He decided to not speak because we
lose time with speach and staff so he gave us un papelo con one word at the end
of the day. Un petit papier. And we had to think about it. One word for each day.
And every night we had to dream that word… I was nervous because I couldn’t
controler mes rêves. No puedo controlare my dreams… He wasn’t happy with it. Iremember one word he gave me the two last week of the lavatory… “DISEPEAR”
One night, I was so proud of me, I dreamt of it. In my dream I just left my body, I wasn’t me anymore, I was even not a shadow…. But when I work up and saw my face I was… And he…
He decided also to don’t watch the rehersals. He was hiding his eyes because notre vue, seeing us was a bit insuportable. Capisco si… Ma what was stranger was his need to smell us. During the day he stopped the work ans smell each one of us. Partout. All our body. He said he could smell if we were concentred or not.. It’s stupid but I had that fear… His nose… I had the sensation he could see
me …nue.. Him with his eyes hidding with a black fabric. Just this nose all aroundmy body… Sono stupida Io lo so… Ma… My skin started to shake when he arrives.
If you take too much shower he gives you a paper with LAYER wrote on it. If you don’t you’re a “PORCO”. Sono stupida… Sometimes when someone sleeps near me and ronfle or respiro with sound my skin start to shake again.
But the work, yes yes intersting ans I can not complain: I’m a actrice and I’ve worked con Benedetto Sicca.
My life will never be the same. I would give anything to go back to this day when Luca Carboni talked to us about Benedetto.
This day I shouldn’t have been there.I shouldn’t have listened a word of him. I should have been at the swimming pool , spending good time. Now it’s almost been a year that we finished this project on “idiots” and I still can’t go out alone on the street, drive a car, go to a shop, take a cafè with friends. I have no more friends. And I have no more hands to take a coffee. I was hitted by a bus while I thinking of Benedetto, suddenly realizing that i had the same bracciale than him around my wrist (the remaining of a setta).
My parents putted me in an hospital. I can still watch TV, which is a good thing. I’m happy to be here because at home I couldn’t breath anymore. This symptom started during the work with Benedetto. Let’s call it a work!!!…
Claustrophobia. My cardiac rhythm went faster and faster and faster and. I couldn’t recognize myself. I don’t recognize myself. Maybe that’s why I changed my name. You can call me Elisabeth now. I don’t even remember my first name. They stole me. I could die now.
I don’t care.
Eh… una merda! Ma veramente… che devo dire?
…la parola che mi viene in mente è: inutile!
La netta sensazione di non aver imparato nulla…
Forse di averla persa…
L’unica cosa che ho imparato è che non bisogna…
Benedetto Sicca. Un coglione!
Ma coglione anche io che gli sono stato appresso!
Il teatro!!! : diagnosi psicologica da quattro soldi sulla base dei nostri atteggiamenti fisici e caratteriali.
Quand’ero bambino mia madre… ma vaffanculo!
Questo gusto sadico di voler tirare fuori i drammi personali.
La competitività! La competitività! La competitività
Il gruppo era proprio bello! Eterogeneo, fortissimo! Avevo trovato una famiglia, una protezione…
Io volevo solo una protezione… non avevo capito…
Niente, è riuscito a… pianti! Urla! Nudità!
Tuo padre ti picchiava… Paola finita in ospedale. Severine in mezzo alla strada! Ci ha distrutti. Troppa tensione! Eravamo troppo tesi. Ci siamo fatti male. Ci ha esasperati. Abbiamo perso il controllo e abbiamo perso le nostre vite… e adesso? adesso?