Imagine a basketball player suddenly stopping mid-court, and drop kicking the ball over the basket. That would be incoherent--that is, such an act would make no sense in context of the game of basketball. But put the player in a rugby suit, on a rugby field in the middle of a scrum, and then the act is just. So it is with any style of any theatrical event. Style is simply the particular rules governing the game of the play--the boundaries and conditions that render actions coherent. But unlike a sport where the rules governing behavior are already known by most in the audience, a theatrical event’s rules unfold before an audience over time. There is usually, but not always, some understanding of the rules prior to the event. Typically, the audience will know it is in for a comedy, tragedy, melodrama, farce, or experimental work and orient itself accordingly. But each event is peculiar to itself and part of the pleasure of theatre is that no two shows or two nights of performance will be quite alike. And the primary players—directors, writers, designers and actors—take pleasure in playing games with the game, to the surprise and delight (it is hoped) of the audience.