As a resident of New York City, I’m no stranger to street performers. It’s not an uncommon sight to see men and women on the streets and in subway stations using their artistic crafts to make money. Their creations provide the passerby with a moment to observe a more raw form of creativity than most people are used to. The visual pieces aren’t hung on the walls of museums, the music isn’t coming from one’s headphones, and the more physical pieces aren’t being carried out on stages while the audience sits quietly in their seats. It’s a more fluid and interactive method of performing.

The Cost of Living is an award-winning film that utilizes physical theater to tell the story of two street performers. Dave, a disabled dancer without legs,  and his friend Eddie share an apartment and a profession. The movie uses the physicality of the characters as well as sections of choreography to explore a multitude of subjects such as disability, spectatorship, and identity. By almost exclusively watching the movements of the actors instead of focusing on their dialogue, the audience was asked to reconsider what it means to be human. Words were spoken but they were essentially of no consequence. Instead, what was important was the aggression, panic, and tenderness with which the characters communicated. Those emotions were then used to tell the resonating theme; all of humanity is connected and isolated by our ability to communicate with each other using our bodies. 

As the millennia have passed and humans developed speech, the truths the body can reveal have been forgotten. Yet, utilization of our bodies is the most intrinsic form for communication. Even before we fully evolved into Homo sapiens, we were a part of the primate family, which relied mainly on physical gestures to convey ideas. It is ingrained in our very beings to use our physical forms to tell stories. Ultimately, the one language that we all are share, no matter our origin, is the language of movement.

This movie has provided me a newfound appreciation for the art of dance. It was extremely real and exposed truths I would have never chanced upon on my own. For instance, I was confronted with how I felt when I saw a disabled person. Like many people, I used to feel uneasy. It’s not right and I don’t condone it, but it’s the truth. Before the film, I never addressed or questioned my feelings. However, after I have come to terms with my reactions and have begun to analyze them. Perhaps my response stems from my own fear of losing the usage of my extremities. Coming to terms with my own irrational fears has helped me interact with others based off of their character and not their bodies. I’ve learned a lot about myself after thinking about the movie.

Some people may say the film was off-putting and uncomfortable. But I ask them, who ever said the truth was comforting?