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Estreno 2005, BAC, London.
Davis Glass, one of the greatest physical theatre performers, still has something up his sleeve: his body is gnarled and crabbed like an ancient tree, bent like a branch heavy with snow. But it is life and time that weigh him down. His mouth is a gash of red, his face white like that of a tipsy clown. He reminds you of Aschenbach at the end of Death in Venice - absurd and tragic. Old Sam's spirit hovers over this 75 minutes, as does the legacy of vaudeville. This is a show full of disappearing acts.
Disembodied is about the nightmare of growing old and the way that as we grow old, we seem less ourselves - at least in the way our body misbehaves. There is a sequence when Glass's hands and feet appear to be entirely unconnected to his limbs. It is also about how the old disappear from view. At one point, Glass simply vanishes down a crack in the floorboards. Out of sight and out of mind. Like a lost letter. The show is full of music and grief, and there is much that is astonishing.