The son of a boxer who couldn't win, Flynn is determined not to end up like his father. He becomes a successful fighter through utter dedication. But is his gruelling training merely an avoidance tactic? A crisis builds as he moves to the title fight and the drama hurtles to a shattering conclusion, in this emotionally intense and highly physical one-man performance.
We do not know what truth is the importance is that ambiguity is clear! For this, in the present time of the overcooked passions and sad feelings, we are starvingly satiated at the table of Dennis Cooper with the scabrous poetry of which his literary universe is prepared. With a sort of Mozart impudence, we have tried to tell a cruel fairy-tale on adolescence. To unhinge the doors of the so-called sexual normalcy, to play the big drum of the foreveryoungs world, scattering salt on the wounds of a reality brutally live, it has been almost automatic for us while the obsessive themes of Cooper were unthreading under our eyes. The mutilations, the bodily punishments, the repeated sex up to the extinction hide a dangerous and "pure" tendency to the game: a childish game, a relaxation that we have forgotten going out of the domestic walls. The time that goes by, the forced call to a cataloging maturity allow us to glimpse the out of focus outline of a child that asks help. And it is what we have done. We went off to the request for help throwing a life belt in an ocean: rotten as a reality show, hard and icy as the days of ex deluded grown up people. The lysergic vision of Cooper has woven with ours, fed of the same uneasiness, of the same lacks, of identical losses. The night-wait of four devourers of Haagen Dasz ice cream (Macadamia Nut Brittle of the title) - in a hospital department, on an airplane or in a house of the games on the tree - materializes itself in an oneiric tamagotchi, where you will have to reckon with your own identity that, if from one side it leaves you free, from the other one it develops a sense of being far away from a Planet which slips away under our feet. In this emotional fluctuation we dive steeply - deprived of safety belt - toward an unpredictable libertinism to appropriate a taste and a weight again. The rumba of the tears has begun; the lacerations mark the figures turning the happy familys romantic dream of tv advertisements into a nightmare. Victims, executioners, protagonists of this snuff movie that life offers are we, in the desperate search of love in an impossible world: because at the end also the Nature, like the men, is a bitch and unfaithful. Always.