Guy (James Vickery) works the night shift in the complaints department of a plastics manufacturer. He’s a fussbudget and a serious music freak, obsessing about the latest forty-five he can trade with his pals from work. That’s right, Guy is into records, man, and he’s strictly old school. Case in point: he staunchly refuses to name a favorite song, but he will admit to a “fake favorite.” It’s the kind of riff that sounds an awful lot like Nick Hornsby’s “High Fidelity,” and that is something of a disappointment coming from a writer with as much potential for originality as Joe Meno. The real story buried under all the music talk is Guy’s crush on a co-worker. Speaking into his 1970s-style Dictaphone, he glances over and observes, “The girl in cubicle seven has removed her shoes,” his sigh just barely audible above her clackety-clack keyboard typing. Kara Peterson plays the object of his affection, and she has the wide, moony face and long-limbed awkwardness of Julia Stiles. Their peculiar friendship is uncomfortable and quite lovely at the same time, laced through with stunted chemistry that holds your attention. Director James Van Buren does a fine job staging these portions of the play—they look, sound and feel just right—but an editor he is not. Better known as a writer of novels and short fiction, Meno’s playwriting chops have been steadily improving over the years; what he really needs now is time with a director who can teach him how to tighten his focus. (Nina Metz)
