It’s called Smile. Sure it is. A cold-war gumshoe dandy delivers ear-splitting wails while theatrically clutching a violin we only hear simulated on the high end of his five-octave range. A noose swings provocatively, a caged canary escapes, glass shatters. This one from the always strange and inventive Vitas Bumak. Nostalgia, loss, grief and rage filtered through an arch sense of cornball drama. The stuff of opera and life and good enough reason to…Smile! More Vitas here and here.
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