Asleep On A Bicycle
Welcome to my nightmare. I’ve just seen a show that was beautifully designed, with great sound and some very nice performances. The writing wasn’t perfect, but pretty good. It had its moments of wit, humor, touching humanity, and theatrical intricacy. But I don’t know what to say about it. I left the building feeling less than satisfied, less than fulfilled, much like the show itself.
Linda, a woman sleeping in the bed onstage, invites us into her recurring dreams of a dead Italian film star, an alcoholic mother, a fluttering nun, a homicidal, axe-wielding ancestor and a suicidal older brother. Her husband Jeff, also sleeping on stage, contributes a nurse with whom he has recently slept, and an imaginary daughter he and Linda may or may not bring into the real world at a future date. See, Linda is in a coma and she may not make it. I t all depends on their cat, Buttons.
Playwright Tony Foster and director David Fofi spend close to two hours helping Linda re-discover dark secrets in her past and the harried events of her last waking moments. We’re treated to the inspired lunacy of Linda’s job as a temp (to perm) working at a literary agency and her struggles with the meaning of a six-figure screenplay deemed to be stroke material for males 18-35. And we are privy to some truly touching moments that explore what it means to be part of a family, moments which give us hope that there may be some greater truth waiting at dream’s end. But after all that, life itself is in the hands of the cat, Buttons.
As I said, the show is beautifully designed, especially Joel Daavid’s set and lights and Lanfair Field’s lovely music. Gina Garrison has a lot to carry as Linda. Fortunately, she is allowed a few moments of quiet radiance within the frenetic drive to keep the story moving. Especially engaging are Tara Norris as the axe-happy Penny Farthing, Jade Dornfeld as Buttons (the make-believe daughter, not the cat), and Maya Parish as Italian film goddess Giovanna Paradisi. It’s interesting how these characters enliven Linda’s dream far more than her family. There is no doubt more to be said on that subject, but I’ll leave that to the cat, Buttons.