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You have to laugh. It is a tragedy in three movements: The Thighs, The Dick, The Fame and a counter-movement: Italy.An actress creates a physical and vocal mask challenging a provocative, scandalous and beastly text. Words might be sung, howled and shrieked but a chant never emerges. In her naked physicality she tells a personal story in an unbroken flow of thoughts/words rendered as sounds and movement. The deafening screams being choked. Appeased. Imploded. This female onstage offers herself up in a feast, ready to be torn apart by anyone. A poetic piece born of the flesh that returns to the flesh, captured in a tightly-sealed aesthetic. Applause required.The Shit is driven by a desperate attempt to pull ourselves out of the mud, the latest products of the cultural genocide aptly described by Paolo Pasolini since the modern consumer society began taking form. A totalitarianism even more repressive than the one of the Fascist era, because it's capable of crushing us softly.