It is hard to know to which of the five characters the title of this pitiful little story refers, riven as they all are by inchoate drives of which they have little understanding and almost no control. Trembling constantly on the verge of violence and betrayal, charged by feelings they do not themselves seem to understand, they stumble through life with little self-awareness.
Maybe this is what Fringe works should be, bare-bones, telling dreary stories of hapless characters caught up unwittingly in stormy conflicts of their own making.
The five players do a fine job of portraying these unenviable and often unsympathetic characters but a lack of any semblance of good production values often undermines their work (and our appreciation). ...
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