Farenheit 451

We sat down and she asked, "Is this supposed to be experimental theatre?"

"No," I said, "I don't think we really do that in Geneva. And look around you..." We scanned the sea of grey heads behind us - not exactly an experimental theatre kind of audience. So we settled into our seats and the show started... with what we like to call "interpretive dance," complete with masks and music you would never listen to on purpose. And it went south from there.

Okay, it was my idea to go. I sent the email saying it would be fun. I organized the tickets. But I hadn't counted on four British actors unable to speak in an American accent but intent on learning - before our very eyes, if they had to. I didn't count on a script designed, it seems, for people who have trouble following the subtle twists and turns of "Friends". My favorite part came fairly early on.

The Fireman (and you should know that, in the future, Firemen will no longer be putting out fires - they will be the ones responsible for burning books, which are a danger to society) has collected the books and is about to burn them. He has sprinkled them with kerosene, and put them into a large metal container.

Now any of you who remember Science Nathan's story about the green flame will understand that, at this point, I became pretty optimistic about this being the greatest theatre performance of my life. Fire? On stage? Hello - come to papa!

But instead of reaching for a match, the Fireman picked up a spot light with a red filter on it, and shone that into the container.

"Oooohhhh," he said, "it's sooooooo hot. They're burning up in there. Yep, they sure are on fire."

He mopped imaginary sweat from his brow. Or, now that I think about it, it was probably real sweat. I mean, if I had to deliver those lines with a straight face I would sure not be in my comfort zone any more.

And of course, these lines, like all others throughout the performance, were delivered at full volume. You've got to be sure the people in the back can hear, you see, and that's best done by making everything equally loud. If I had a debilitating fear of subtlety, this may well be the one play I could watch over and over with threat of discomfort. They hit us over the head with everything they had. Thankfully, they didn't have much.

So, I'm sorry. I'll try to pick better next time. And bring snacks.