Last dance of the dragonfly

"I thought about the moment when you can no longer delay, when the unique and strange sound of that waiting covers the noise and trepidation of the world, when the pain of leaving forever is no longer a thought, a projection into a future ambiguous, but fact: now. This is how the timeless people of this play were born. We are all dragonflies, and life is our last dance." – Cornel Mihai Ungureanu

"Florin Caracala reassembles all this original dramatic substance, each character is brought to light in an exploration of the means of comedy, an essay piece becomes dynamic, an exorcism through laughter (...)

In a nursing home and nothing else, but, as in Bohumil Hrabal's prose, the characters look for a reason to rejoice every day and Babi, responsible for good mood and alcohol, is the one who provokes and maintains an atmosphere of humor. (in) voluntary and foolish. Marian Politic transforms a banal character, all mannerisms are just elements adapted from the pragmatic style of popular theater, he improvises, parodies, dances, with the intuition that laughter is a means of prolonging life, not just any entertainment. The other residents of the asylum, Sanda, Păsărel and Matei are equally exotic, intentionally thickened, exaggerated touches. Sanda (Alina Mangra) limping, always stumbles, Mr. Matei trembles from all joints, Păsărel (Iulia Lazăr) is in a permanent lumbago crisis, all punctuated in self-ironic remarks, "this is how the characters should be", these are "the director's indications". And the fun continues, a succession of stories, jokes, comic situations and funny idylls: Matei and Mrs. Păsărel, Babi and Madam Dorina. But Matei is just as attached to his cat, Dragoş Măceşanu is in shape and collaborates very well with Mihai Viţă, and their games, very spontaneous, open even more the playful atmosphere of the show. In a game of mouse and cat, Babi is caught with Madam Dorina, the nurse who takes care of and supervises them, although, from their conversations, the roles are interchangeable like the vodka bottles that change their recipient. Tamara Popescu, always effervescent, integrates perfectly in the group of asylum seekers. (…) It is not the first transvestite in which Cătălin Miculeasa appears (an exotic presence in Radio , but more decorative), but now the composition is much more elaborate and the results are appropriate. ” (Daniela Firescu, "Why we laugh / cry at the theater": Tragicomedies of the Late Age , RAMURI magazine / no. 7/2021)