This idiosyncratic variation on the 9 o’clock no-assist introduces a quixotic element of mystery into the standard SoH equation. Who is this masked man? To what end his anonymous, frustrated projection of cartoonish rage? Or perhaps, of not rage?
For his mouth and eyes express only a disaffected equanimity; wrath is indicated by the eyebrows. Do they, in the immortally-paraphrased words of Jessica Rabbit, belie his true shoe-nature? Is he then, not angry, but only drawn like that?