This is a picture of a person I don't know

Pere Faura begins with a simple premise, and a snatch of Singin' in the Rain. Dating, he notes, is like an audition in uncertainty, noting the willingness to tailor the self to another's need, the showing off and the hanging around.

Using musicals as inspiration and irritation, this sharp, short, humorous solo takes Faura on a journey to become the star of his own movie. Once he has established the theme, Faura tells a story from his own life, segueing seemlessly into a comic recreation of a classic musical number. Mocked and distorted, the musical's jollity becomes a parody, the dark undercurrents of dependancy and anxiety undermining the cheerful tunes and tap-dance virtuousity. When Faura projects himself onto the screen, and chats to an earlier version of himself, his harsh loneliness is leavened by his cheeky resilence. The force of the central meatphor sustains Faura through the half hour: he does not develop in great detail, only draws the comparison and illustrates with tremendous irony.

It is a beautiful idea, made potent by Faura's love-hate relationship with the musical. Obviously an experienced chorus-liner, he is trying to break away, find his choreographic voice, yet is lulled by the doomed romanticism. In the end, the images of happy couples on the screen comment dolefully on Faura's single status. In the attempt to escape the audition, he has found himself dancing a solo.