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You never knew where it was going or what was in store. It was continually fresh and offbeat. But my favorite bit was a nightclub scene where on stage a woman sings softly, sweetly, endearingly, while another performer, some dude with knives or darts is standing offstage (amongst the cocktail tables, I believe) and calmly casting them at her...head. Either she had nerves of steel or was utterly engrossed in the emotion of her song, because she appears oblivious to the sharp blades violently sticking into the wall/board all around her face. Closeups reveal she doesn't even flinch. She goes on, singing earnestly (of love and heartbreak?), her expression unhindered by the deadly darts landing within centimeters of her cheeks, her forehead, her ears, her soft neck. Meanwhile, the patrons drink on, seemingly unmoved. There is no gasping, no screaming, no applause. It's all very matter of fact. As for nightclub entertainment, I think that beats karaoke any day. But don't try it at home, kids.
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