It is logical that a good part of the audience that goes to the theater looks for entertainment with laughter that does not make them think. It is no longer so logical that the billboard is filled with this type of theater, ignoring proposals that invite one to ask questions and talk about what has been seen. As you can imagine with this preamble, A small distortion is a proposal from the latter, like almost all the theater of Enric Nolla. A theatre that avoids conventional logic and approaches the dark corners of the human being, as is evident in his dramaturgical debut, Hurricane (2000), passing through White slave trade (2001) and ending with this A small distortion, in which he reflects on the creation of masculinity in our society, making it very clear with the title that it is the author himself who poses the question. And he does so with the help of a character of those who take the air bridge in first class, who have a closet full of ties. A self-satisfied winner who despises the weak and hates failure in a clear critique of a model with Trump-like airs. And the fact is that Nolla's theater is neither innocuous nor kind; it avoids the obvious and responds to the restlessness of someone who confronts an ungraspable world often prone to destruction. We find the protagonist in a luxurious penthouse with impressive views of the city, while he prepares the speech he is to deliver at the company party that has just awarded him the management of an international delegation.

Venezuela is the paradigm of theoretically rich South American states subjected to historical political disjunctions between left-wing spaces, which, wrapped in the flags of revolution, promise and do not deliver, and right-wing spaces abducted by the rules of maximum profit that promise and also do not deliver, between the defense of identity —they call it patriotism— and selling to the highest bidder. Today's Venezuela is Venezuela between, on the one hand, the inoperable and incapable Chavista dictatorship sold to the American mafia by the executors of the utopia and, on the other hand, the siren songs of an opposition led by a candidate who trusted the same gang mafioso that doesn't even let her return to her country.