Since I am not a famous actress and no one is going to give me rave reviews for my performance in I Not Stupid Too, I shall do it myself!

I was a certified journalist so I should be more than qualified to give official reviews, shouldn’t I? Even if it’s of myself.

So, here goes.

Shen Qiaoyun — The Review

Making a surprise appearance in hit movie I Not Stupid Too is actress Shen Qiaoyun (formerly known and credited in the movie as Serena Sim).

Ms Shen simply sizzles on the silver screen. Yes, she is hot because her character has a bun in the oven and she looks like she should be lying down on the delivery bed instead of gallivanting around with a bunch of hyperactive kids.

For her role of a conservative pregnant primary school teacher, the youthful-looking actress sacrificed her “Act Cute in Baby Tee” specialty…

…to put on a maternity dress and horn-rimmed glasses.

And it is a worthy sacrifice because the actress really stands out in the movie. That is, her belly really stands out. She has many speaking lines, which, in showbiz terms, means “significant role (but not significant enough to be named in press releases)”.

In fact, this reviewer would find it a daunting challenge if asked to pick a line delivered by the actress that could possibly be Oscar material — there are so many. Should it be the line that goes “1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8″, when she counts time for the children for a dance performance, or the one that goes, “2, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8″?

Regardless, it is now clearly evident that Ms Shen can count. To at least eight.

And it is only a matter of time before she receives her pre-school graduation certificate.

On Monday, Jan 16, after the gala premiere of the long-awaited sequel to 2002′s I Not Stupid, a few members of the audience could be heard raving over the actress, who is well on her way to graduating from her showbiz status of “Not So Famous” to “Still Not Famous Yet”.

“Acting is quite natural except for some parts!”

“Looks like a mother!”

“Who the hell are you talking about?!”

These were some of the phrases uttered in praise of the illustrious actress.

Asked to comment on her own performance, Ms Shen said, “I am very relieved that I don’t look as bad on the big screen as I expected I would.”

Pressed further, the actress revealed that she had her hands up at her face throughout the movie in anticipation of cowering in embarrassment whenever she appeared on screen.

Such endearing modesty.

The actress went so far as to disguise herself at the gala premiere so that no one would recognise her as the pregnant teacher in the movie.

Ms Shen was spotted at the cocktail reception emulating Emily, her favourite merchandise mascot.

But her identity was revealed when she was later seen heading towards the theatre seat bearing her name.

Some of the actors were visibly upset by this invasion of privacy.

“Oh my god, our names are on the seats! This is so embarrassing,” said an actor who refused to be named.

Ms Shen, however, graciously took the infringement in her stride because all eyes were on the main stars of the show a few seats away, anyway. Nobody noticed when she busied herself by peering into the goodie bag generously contributed by SingTel and other sponsors.

Watch out for more of Ms Shen’s appearances on TV and cinema screens as the actress lends her presence to any production that can afford her daily rate — an amount somewhere in the vicinity of the gross national product of a developed anthill.

Indeed, I Not Stupid Too, directed by the multi-talented director Jack Neo, is all the more richer with Ms Shen’s involvement because she will be elevating box office takings by forcing all her friends, relatives and neighbours to watch the movie.

I Not Stupid Too launches in cinemas on Jan 26, 2006.

It’s a wonder I still have time to blog.

Remember on Tuesday I said this?:

Over the past two days … my schedulling diary suddenly exploded … All of a sudden, I now have two full-day shoots, one wardrobe fitting session, five auditions to attend, and one magazine article to research and write. (Link)

Well, God must have seen how pleased I was with this last-minute maniacal schedule because he started to think to himself: “How about let’s make her deliriously happy by adding another audition, another wardrobe session, two more rehearsals and one more 15-hour shoot to her already bursting week?”

Yes, he did.

There was actually more. On top of all that, I also had to reject two acting jobs and sacrifice one dinner party for which I have already paid.

All for this week.

I bet my next two weeks (maybe even two months) will be so eventless and free that I’ll even have time to count the number of bird droppings in the car park downstairs on an hourly basis.

That’s how screwy the life of a freelancer is.

And now I have to go to bed because I have to wake up at 5.30 am for a shoot.

Woohoo.

(No, it’s all good, really. This is not a rant.)

Recently, I was shortlisted by a modelling agency to audition for a skincare TV commercial.

I doubt my skin is in any condition to endorse a skincare product so I didn’t think I had half a chance of getting the job. But I went anyway because auditions are good networking opportunities, whether or not you end up getting the job.

So I went to this production house and found out that they were doing another round of shortlisting before the final candidates are sent off to meet the real paying client.

Duh.

Production House Person was actually someone with whom I had worked in the past. She said, “Aiyah, you should have told me you were coming. I would have just sent you directly to the client, no need to waste your time come here.”

“Never mind lah,” I said. “I live nearby anyway.”

Lame.

I should have said something PR like, “Oh, I wanted to drop by and catch up with you.” But curry favouring has never been my forte and I never can do it spontaneously.

Anyway, PH Person told me that the client wanted a fresh face because the commercial is going to be one of those before-and-after thingys.

I wasn’t quite sure I wanted to appear on TV with a face full of fake pimples.

Besides, I’m not exactly a “fresh face”. But PH Person said to go anyway. So I did (the following week) and I met the other contenders.

There were three of them and they were all 19-year-old sweet-young-thing students, all innocent and fresh looking.

I felt like I had mistakenly taken part in a beauty contest for which I was overqualified. Not in the looks department, but age. As I sat there in the room, I waited to be disqualified.

Diiiing! You’re out you’re too old how the heck did you sneak into the finals?

I tried to blend in by not talking too much and giving myself away and I think they didn’t suspect a thing because one of them tried to start a conversation with me by asking me which school I was from.

After making us wait an hour, the client finally decided to see us. I went first because I was the first to arrive at the office. I was the only punctual one, in fact. As if that makes any difference.

When I entered the room, the first words from the client were, “You look very familiar. I’ve seen you on TV before.” Except that she didn’t know who I was nor where she’d seen me before.

Not surprising.

“You look familiar” is one of the most uttered phrases uttered to me, right up there with “How old are you?”

Yeah, yeah. I am 929 years old and I’m your second uncle’s twice-removed cousin’s colleague’s gynaecologist’s great grand aunt.

Well, Ms Client said that if people have seen me on TV before, the before-and-after ad might not be too convincing.

PH Person was there and tried to put a good word in for me by saying that I was the only one who could act, and they did want someone like that.

Then, there was the customary “we’ll let you know” bs and that was it.

I think I need plastic surgery to change my looks. Everyone and his garden rake finds me familiar looking.

But no one knows who I am.

I think that is really insulting. And saddening that I’m too “famous” to appear in certain TV commercials but not actually famous enough to get celebrity endorsements.

I am the unwanted middle child.

Oh, woe.

People stare at me on the streets because they find me familiar, so I have no privacy. I suffer the disadvantages of fame but do not enjoy the benefits.

Excuse me?

I think I must have messed up somewhere.

Two days ago on Sunday, my schedule for this week looked really empty.

So I was planning to get a lot of studying in. Japanese lessons are waiting for me to resume but I need to revise intensively first.

Nihongo wa muzukashii desu ne.

Over the past two days, though, my schedulling diary suddenly exploded.

Kapow.

All of a sudden, I now have two full-day shoots, one wardrobe fitting session, five auditions to attend, and one magazine article to research and write.

Did I ever mention I really hate writing for money? But I keep accepting these assignments because we have to do what we have to do to survive. I even once in a long while solicit for more writing jobs. I r a glutton for punishment.

I am now slowly approaching panic lane because my entire week is now packed.

But my article has to be in tomorrow or Thursday.

And my Japanese has to be revised before the middle of next month (I have six months’ worth of revision to do).

And I keep having people calling me up to go for auditions and shoots (which I can’t reject for obvious reasons).

So last minute lor! See I so panicky until I lapse into Singlish liao.

And the Goonfather wants to go for ice-cream now.

(I have such a nice, flat tummy, too, from a whole week of involuntary dieting due to illness. And he wants me to ruin it with ice-cream.)

So what do I do? I start blogging.

Hahahahaha.

I’m going crazy.

I would like to remind people again that my hair is not rebonded.

Sigh.

I am tempted to perm my hair so people won’t accuse me of having rebonded my hair.

But I look disgusting with curly hair. So I think I am stuck with straight hair forever.

Argh. I am trapped between a rock and a hard place.

Now, please repeat after me.

Qiaoyun’s hair has never seen a rebonding iron. (Or whatever it is they use to rebond hair.)

Qiaoyun’s hair is not rebonded.

Thank you.

Oh, waitaminute. Maybe I should cut it really short, like a bob. How about that?