Leaving Kokura station, I heard distant shouting coming from a mobile PA system and intermittent whirs of excitement and clapping from a live group of people. Enthused Japanese people! There had to be a good reason. I had a nanosecond discussion in my head of whether to go straight home or check it out and went with the latter. A bleached, mohawked, 10mm crystal plug-wearing Japanese guy was performing inside a square of blue lights laid out on the floor. I edged closer until I was on the front row. He was instructing the audience to come closerâ¨and sit. "Ah! Do you speak Japanese?" "A little!" (gestured so) "Sugoi ne!" He then continued talking to the crowd as they laughed and looked at me. I hoped his show would be worth being publicly ridiculed⌠He began with 2 glass balls in 1 hand, moving them around fluidly. Mildly impressive. The crowd responded adequately. He then dropped one, nobody reacted, probably slightly embarrassed. So he moved onto another trick where he laid out 5 dice on the top of the case that contained the glass balls. He shook a tall, metal can and threw them in, then revealed them slowly; they were standing on top of one another.â¨Again, i thought, âsâalright likeâ. Then he added more dice and failed to get them standing in a tower. Oops⌠I stayed because the atmosphere was good and there was a salary man next to me who kept looking at me, amazed at Mr Bird, and yelling âSUGEH!â Lol. Another foreigner approached the crowd and he asked him the same. He replied the same. He didnât pick on him, thoughâŚâ¨â¨He spoke for a a few minutes and brought a red bowler hat and theatre mask to his stage. He then got us to clap and thanked us for being there before donning the apparatus. The music started; a slow but moving melody with emotively delivered Japanese lyrics. He started on the floor, in an awkward sitting position, head down. It became evident that he was portraying the story of a doll, trapped with strings attached to his limbs and head like a marrionette. He kept trying to stand with jerky, laborious movements, but failing, falling back to the ground. These attempts increased in effort and success until he was fully standing and able to move. Falling again, he put his hands to the mask and pulled with such convincing force that I thought it would fly off. He then reached into one of his pockets and mimed having scissors to cut the strings. He cut from his arms, but his legs, still shackled, buckled beneath him until he fell again, knees betwixt his feet. He cut his left leg string and then pulled his right leg over himself and handed the scissors to a little girl on the front row. He asked her (unmicrophoned) to cut it for him, which she did. He then held both her hands and thanked her with a bow as the music crescendoed. He rose to victory and stood back for the crowd to see. A relieved and grateful smile on his now bare face, he bowed so deeply that his face touched his knees. A grateful little clown.
