You walk into most galleries, and what do you get? Silence. Sacred, hushed, dead silence, like you’re waiting for a tax audit. The work is finished, framed, priced, and ready to be stuffed into a wealthy person’s house. Not at Improv. This art space in Cubao is a factory floor of magnificent mistakes and potential genius. It’s where art is still happening. Forget the final, polished product. The real juice, the real, heart-pumping stuff, lives right here—in the mess, in the middle of the argument. This isn't just a cozy “artist-first” therapy session; it’s a structural critique of the entire system. It’s a haven built for the true, high-stakes risk-takers: the ones who might totally, embarrassingly fall flat on their face trying to figure out the next big thing. And you know what? That glorious, potential failure is a hundred times more thrilling than the hundredth perfect little canvas hanging at some safe, sterile, blue-chip shop. Look at the walls! This is where the beautiful an...
In the 1930s, Universal's hits like Dracula and Frankenstein had everyone buzzing, and Walt Disney wanted a piece of that spooky action for his biggest star. The result was The Mad Doctor —a frantic, gothic horror show where Mickey Mouse has to brave a booby-trapped castle full of dancing, self-assembling skeletons to rescue his snatched dog, Pluto. It was the first time audiences saw a truly terrified Mickey. Not only did some theaters refuse to screen the short film, but the British Board of Film Censors (BBFC) outright banned it, deeming it "too gruesome" for kids.