That situation naturally couldn't last. Broadway looked to systematize what it saw as simply a new bag of marketable tricks, and O'Horgan again moved on. He tried film; his aimed-for fluidity congealed unhappily on celluloid. He tried opera, creating the stunning visual coup with the Trojan Horse that made his Les Troyens in Vienna legendary; most opera houses weren't ready then for his brand of daring. Cushioned by his Broadway royalties, he took up smaller-scale projects as they came to him, meanwhile building and populating his loft, and his life. Hard to sum up: He had made all the right "career moves" while barely pursuing a career at all; a quest is not a career. O'Horgan sought a theater that could perpetually change; the fluidity he sought engulfed and absorbed him. His achievements are virtually impossible to re-create. I think he might actually be rather proud of that. He would know, from Goethe, that only when Faust begs the beautiful moment to stay can the Devil finally entrap him.