Strada in Trinity St

The ambient noise rises. She touches her hair. Red wine is consumed. She touches her thighs. She sits on her palms. She fidgets. Her face is animated. Her voice is low; it must be low, or else it would have failed to blend with the ambient noise.

The patrons do not rely on the restaurant to make their night special; they arrive confident in their own ability to succeed at the task. Each patron's confidence confers dignity on the restaurant and inspires others.

The town does not change, not outwardly. The undergraduates remain works of art, even when they speak. One measures oneself against what one used to be by gauging the changes in one's reactions to the unchanged environment. The town's lack of outward change invites one to seek changes elsewhere and signals the confidence that such changes will be found. At the same time, the lack of outward change may breed timidity and conformism also in the domains beyond the outward.

The diverse traffic of Strada inoculates against the stasis.

"One can contribute to the society only if one is sufficiently different from everyone else, n'est-ce pas? But one feels more comfortable where one is more like others. There is a trade-off."

Fatal Attraction

(The Theatre Royal Haymarket, 21 May 2014)

Alex Forrest (played by Natascha McElhone) alternates between sanity and obsession so effortlessly that one wonders what could have betrayed her emotional instability early enough to forewarn Dan Gallagher (played by Jonathan Forbes). He could have been more inquisitive at the dinner interview and hope that Alex would slip up; but he probably hoped she would not. Afterwards, he could have revealed his affair to his wife as soon as he understood he lost control. He did not reveal because he remained curious about someone so alive, if only intermittently.

Jonathan Forbes is appropriate for the part. He is young enough to be curious, to err, and to attract women.

Natascha McElhone may be too good for her part. She controls her insanity instead of being possessed by it. As a result, her character is bigger than its allotted part.

The Drowned Man: A Hollywood Fable

(Temple Studios, 22 May 2014)

What one does becomes what one is. One cannot remain oneself without doing what one used to do. With courage, however, one may become someone else---if prodded by circumstances.

In the occupations that permit no accurate measurement of proficiency (e.g., in the movie industry), wasteful rent seeking occurs and dissipates most of the pleasure from future careers in these occupations. In occupations that permit precise measurement of proficiency (e.g., in mathematics), public ranking may extinguish the motivating power of delusion.

There is a hope in the simplicity of the makeshift, in the aspiration to simple luxuries. The set of the "Drowning Man" is imbued with its inhabitants' hopes. In America, where the production is set, one witnesses the extended phenotype of individuals first, and only then---and often less conspicuously---that of the civilisation. In this phenotype, there is more future than past. (There is some past, recent enough to remember or to pretend to remember.) Because there is more commonality in future than past, American narratives appeal broadly.

Most art focuses on the universally accessible themes: work, power, sex, love. The omitted themes may be variations on these universally accessible themes or may be too intricate to quickly engage the audience and hence might be unduly neglected. Alternatively, these universally accessible themes may constitute a universal language and address indirectly the seemingly omitted themes.

The accomplishments of the "Drowned Man" are not in the quality of obstacle dancing, close-range acting, and clockwork crooning. The production is a world that one either wishes to inhabit (and reinhabit) or one does not. On the set, one does not walk among the gods of a National Ballet, but one does walk among those who are quite proficient in expressing themselves. Any slight imperfection in the delivery adds to authenticity.

Masked and ignored, one is first encouraged to observe shamelessly and then is tempted to engage. The world is David-Lynch-esque but not David-Lych-like, dimmed but not dark, peculiar without being perverse.