Fringe review: 4X4

4X4 It seemed like a good bet: four short plays by four playwrights (heights unknown) performed in four spaces, each one measuring 4 feet x 4 feet.

And once again, a good bet turns into a losing proposition.

The audience is divided into four groups, seeing the shows in a different rotation, in different locastions, each group led by a guide. The fusty, musty building of Plays and Players Theater provides four uncomfortable venues: the basement, filled with all kinds of cables and miscellaneous backstage stuff; the attic, which doubles as a bar, the stairwell (we peer over the banister), and the downstairs lobby. If you have trouble with narrow stairways, sitting in hot dark rooms, or standing silent for long stretches of time, this is not the show for you.

No. 1: "Crumbled Worlds" by Robin Rodriguez. A play about a missing baby and a deranged girl interrogated by a policeman, a psychiatrist and her mother: i.e., the usual accusers. The dialogue is beyond belief: "I, too, have been sullied," says Mom with thick Southern accent. Daughter replies, "I ask again, from whence came I?"

No. 2: "The Last Dance" by Sam Toll. Two singles meet cute; she's a slut pretending to be looking for a husband and he's a guy who's got her number. Such cliché drivel could keep anybody home alone.

No. 3: "The Opposite of Moths" by Brian Grace-Duff. No idea what the title means, but once again two singles meet cute. A neurotic guy in the back room of a church library during a blackout is rescued by a librarian/angel.

No. 4: "Shovel" by Greg Romero. Another missing baby, another murderous deranged mother, this one with a shovel. The monologue, delivered at one word a minute, is punctuated by violent face-making.

   - Toby Zinman