ike any ambitious artistic performance, the SRL show managed to elicit its share of strong opinions from the diverse audience. The wide shoulder along Highway 183 -- a single-file parking lot by the end of the show -- played host to hundreds of meandering debates about the show. From insanely enthused pyromaniacs reliving the larger explosions to shell-shocked school kids up way past their bedtimes, the crowd collectively expressed dismay or approval as they dodged traffic and searched for their cars beside the road.

In the days since the performance, discussions with various spectators have yielded a few insights into the audience's expectations and the resulting reactions:

ï Those looking for "great balls of fire" left the show thoroughly satisfied. The chaos of the SRL warzone appealed to their often-inebriated lust for combustion.

ï Families looking for an amusing -- if a bit twisted -- night of industrial "movie effects" were invariably disappointed and/or terrified by the spectacle.

ï Upper-middlebrow art lovers were apparently caught off guard by the pure anarchy of the evening's performance. Most members in this category were expecting more of an automotive opera; something with a linear plot climaxing in a powerful finale. Having had the highest expectations for the mutant marriage of war and art, these art lovers seemed to leave the most disappointed. They were also the most likely to want their money back.

But whatever the individual's reaction, the crew from Survival Research Labs gave its collective audience plenty to think about. Weeks later, Austinites and other Texans will still be talking about the flames.

As for the audience, whether they loved or hated the show, they'd never look at their lawnmower in quite the same way ever again.