A show about everything.

Fleishman Is In Trouble – 4.5/5

What starts as a show about divorce and when does a divorce actually start? and when does your responsibility to another person end? slowly shifts into a show about the gentle pains and and not-so-gentle pangs of growing old, of expectations upended and accidental awakenings, of your true self being hidden within the myriad of all that you do; a blurry snapshot that you can't quite make out because of the speed in which you're moving. You're holding onto a vibration in the air and you get mad when it slips through your fingers. It always will. There's no good, no bad, just... you know, whatever (waves hand offhandedly into air). It's ups, it's downs, it's a circle that keeps going 'round. It's not that we're just, you know, figuring things out, it's that we are perpetually figuring things out. We gain, but lose something we don't realize until later. We lose, but gain in the same unwitting way. And on and on, forever. Every choice leads to a new path, and there's no guarantee of where it takes you; even the choice to choose to be better can lead to worse. All you can hold onto is this: you chose this. Does that make it hurt any less? Does that absolve the universe of its own responsibilities? What do you do with all that? Where can you put it? What space is big enough to hold the ineffable? In the end, we're all just going through it, and **it** just keeps going. Whatever it is (waves hand offhandedly into air). There's light at the end of the tunnel; it's not our salvation, it's a reminder that it will end. So then: grace, and patience, and gratitude. We're all just as lonely as each other, just not always at the same time. And as air moves aside to let us pass, we ask the same of you.