The small becomes great through the magic of theater. Infimo is a mechanical cat, made of screws, an old bicycle headlight and rusty junk, but he has more soul than many humans. His heart is big and generous, a scenic loan from his handlers. Unlike other puppets, the human does not connect with Infimo through threads or mittens or rods. The man surrounds him almost with the affection of an embrace, moves him with the softness with which lips are pursed when kissing or eyelids are narrowed when winking. Handlers do not wear black hats or cover their  face with masks because the human is also an essential part of the show.     

On elementary and simple feelings a tiny show is built only in appearance. A cart, with its load of popular and ancient evocations, turns before our eyes to show us the stairs, the house, the attic or the attic.

In each home layer some beings of metal, fabric  or flesh reveal their most human entrails. The actors and the objects treat each other face to face while the little white rats come and go like demiurges of  the cartoon or as choruses of the least tragedy.

From the basement to the roof, the objects are animated by a subtle magic that immediately convinces us that we are in front of a very well done work.

We feel sorry for the grandfather, afraid of the kitten, remoteness due to greed and even a distant whiff of coffee, which opens and closes with its bright circle, the whole story.

As a luxury wrapper, which enhances the music without friction. An attractive score, with the right balance between the melodic and the contemporary, agile in emphasizing the rhythm and sober in the dramatic effects. And, at every moment, a detail of good taste. This is how you can make a big theater with two square meters of stage and a hero called insignificant.