THE provocative Theatre Resolu with its aim of exploring different narrative methods finally set its eyes on the most primitive, and yet most direct, dramatic narrative - a one-man show, starring Frederic Mao. The Double Bass, written by German novelist Patrick Suskind, translated into Cantonese by director Tang Shu-wing, was a portrait of an artist as a double bass. Mao, trapped in his sound-proof flat, addressed the audience directly, desperately trying to convince us of the value of the double bass in the orchestra. What he was in fact doing was trying to convince himself that he was of value. The double bass in his room was no different from him, isolated and ill-fitted with its surroundings. After a short sequence of everything you wanted to know about the double bass but were afraid to ask, he slowly and painfully admitted how unimportant the instrument was in the eyes of most composers and how, unfitted to solo performance, it was often neglected - rather like the musician himself. He was a Salieri without a Mozart to vent his spleen on. His loneliness was accentuated when he opened the window and the sound of pile-drivers and people shouting burst in. Ironically, while everything outside was as noisy as hell, he could not make any noise in case the neighbours complained. Mao gave a convincing and sympathetic interpretation of an ordinary man in his 40s. There was no over-acting but we could sense his gradual progression to despair. The contrast between the naturalistic room and the expressionistic environment emphasised the sense of alienation, a nobody in the middle of nowhere. Tang's direction was simple and unpretentious. It was after all the compassion for humanity that won the day. The Double Bass, Academy for Performing Arts Drama Theatre, March 2