The mildly tragic main character is Rex. His life consists of daydreaming, an aborted art career, a series of failed relationships, and a miserable job. So far, so stereotypical, although it is delivered with style, energy, and Jim Carrey-style physicality in a whirlwind introduction.
Most of the show consists of snoozing, dreaming, and eventually going to work. All the interest is in the dreams which reveal, unsurprisingly, Rex’s hopes and fears. These sequences are amusingly absurd, escapist, and show much promise from the beginning. Occasionally the actor is obliged to portray a part of reality, this is also done in a dreamlike, over-the-top fashion and it’s hard to say whether this is deliberate, and if so, whether it works.
As the play wears on, it becomes increasingly apparent that the story is going nowhere. At first it seems this is going to be purely a character portrait, in which case the scenes are retreating the same ground without uncovering anything fresh, but suddenly structure is revealed insofar as Rex finally makes it to work, collects a bag from the airport, and saves a drowning stranger. This fragment of plot seems to be tagged on the end as an afterthought — clichéd, detached from the build-up, and wholly unsatisfying.
Rex’s character isn’t rich enough to sustain an in-depth portrayal, and as a result the good bits are spread out rather too thin. You could always enjoy the first half hour then walk out.
2/5
Bernie Greenwood
