When reading a monologue, the first question on my mind is “who is this person talking to and why?” Especially when that monologue is or includes a reminiscence.
MARACAIBO MAD is the best kind reminiscence: one where atmosphere and immediacy pressurize what must be said to those who must hear it. Syran tells an intimate, human story, filled with personal and global history. She putr you right in the thick of it and for 8 minutes you are watching encroaching storms in Venezuela. Her privilege means nothing. Her time has run out. There is no escape.
When reading a monologue, the first question on my mind is “who is this person talking to and why?” Especially when that monologue is or includes a reminiscence.
MARACAIBO MAD is the best kind reminiscence: one where atmosphere and immediacy pressurize what must be said to those who must hear it. Syran tells an intimate, human story, filled with personal and global history. She putr you right in the thick of it and for 8 minutes you are watching encroaching storms in Venezuela. Her privilege means nothing. Her time has run out. There is no escape.