Athan Pana

Before I had watched this film, midgets (of all shapes, sizes and categories) evoked disgust in me. I was repulsed by their little fingers that, like weird, compact hot-dog sausages, would twiddle around in motions not unlike those of a hyperactive child. I couldn't even stand to think about them - I would get physically frightened of the contents of my own head if I allowed these monstrosities to enter it. It all reached a turning point when my daughter asked to marry a midget - fuming, I locked her fiancee in a broom cupboard (he couldn't put up much resistance, the miniscule jerk) and covered him with a bucket). My daughter, trying to shift my views, took me to see Tiptoes - and I have to say, never have I had such an emotional experience in a movie theatre. All my prejudices, all the inclinations and proclivities I had stored within me (all of which related to hating midgets) were gone. Vanished. Destroyed by Gary Oldman pretending to be a dwarf. I love midgets now.