Review: A Sleeping Country (2010), a play by Melanie Marnich
Synopsis: Julia is suffering from insomnia. Her therapist/friend suggests she could have a rare disease (Fatal Familial Insomnia) that leads to death from being unable to sleep, an inherited affliction that can be traced to a family in Italy. Julia has a relative with the same last name, so she heads to Italy to find a cause, or a cure, or at least commiseration. It ends, as all such plays must, with Julia learning more about herself and her problems solved.
Spoilers below!
Review/Reaction: Am I biased? Or maybe my bias is the most important factor in my review? But as someone who has treated for and continues to deal with insomnia, I greatly disliked this play.
Which was a strange experience for me. I love attending live theater. Yes I’ve seen tv/movies I’ve disliked, heard songs I’ve disliked, etc, but I’ve basically loved everything I’ve seen live. Even a dull or bad show is elevated by the magic of Being At The Theater.
My dislike had nothing to do with the director or actors. All the technical details were fine to great. The playhouse in this case was the back room of a coffeeshop, and the play made very clever use of the space. The actors themselves were great, especially given that two of them played multiple roles. Sound design was especially good, as during one scene Julia flips through the TV channels, and the audience hears multiple Law and Order riffs and commercials.
The problem was the plot. After the show, I sat in my car and googled other reviews to make sure I hadn’t missed anything. Maybe there was a sentence that pulled everything together, or a scene that had been cut for time. No, other reviewers agree:
“Considering that the script is rather light with limited heft or fully realized character exploration. . .” Debbie Minter Jackson
“The play, though entertaining and clever at times, does not make you feel satisfied or triumphant at the end. It feels more like a one-act work, although it’s presented in two.” Nancy Stetson
“[B]ut something about the mixture [of comedy and drama] doesn’t satisfy. Earlier, Julia and Midge are wisecracking about sex and drugs. Later, they’re contemplating assisted suicide and dealing in illegal prescriptions.” Bert Osborne
The majority of the play is zany: Dr. Midge, Julia’s therapist, is a “crazier than the patients” type, which, to be fair, is a trope I love. The Italian characters Isabella and Franco seem to come from another play entirely, as there is some magical realism at work that isn’t apparent in Act I. But then there’s Julia breaking off her engagement and very seriously contemplating suicide. And then, the worst sin of all:
She has insomnia because she’s nervous about the future! Which Dr. Midge had asked her about and Julia had denied! The official play synopsis says, “What she discovers is the difference between being an insomniac and being truly awake.” Oh, she just wasn’t present or mindful enough. It was all in her head. She had to face her fears and then, ta da, cured.
I was furious.
I suppose you could say I “thought myself better.” That’s what CBT is, after all. But it took me nearly a year, medication, and at one point four health professionals. And it’s still a struggle. Part of the problem is that I’m always thinking about my fears or my life or whatever. Because I have a mental illness. In Act I, Julia’s insomnia is presented as debilitating, so much so that she seriously contemplates suicide (been there!). But at the end of Act II she’s magically better.
Also, I’m not so sure about Dr. Midge’s credentials. Shouldn’t she have figured out a mental block was the issue, not a rare disease?
Dr. Midge hands a huge bag of pills to Julia. The therapist explains that sleep is one of the few kindnesses the world offers, and if she couldn’t sleep, she wouldn’t want to live. This is presented as a serious, dramatic moment. I finally sought treatment after a month of not sleeping because I was suicidal, so much so that I was starting to make plans.
The giant bag is, of course, humorous. In Act II, Julia decides to take them and in this production, she pours them on a plate and tries to eat them with a fork. Which is also very funny but a huge tonal shift from how suicide was presented in Act I.
Sidenote: I did actually laugh out loud when Dr. Midge handed Julia the pills. Many years ago, I saw a meme that said, “Hey guys, guess what, my therapist finally said I can commit suicide!” I desperately want to find it again, but whenever I google it, the only results are for suicide helplines.
Being awake but not present is a rich vein for storytelling. A favorite song lyric:
“And if I die before I learn to speak/Can money pay for all the days I lived awake but half asleep? “Standing outside a broken phone booth with money in my hand” by Primitive Radio Gods
A favorite book: Half Asleep in Frog Pajamas
But tone is important. Having a character seriously contemplate suicide and then get all better when she realizes she’s nervous about marriage: chaos. I’m not sure what annoys me more: how unreal the ending feels in relation to insomnia or that I have to sit with the strangeness of not liking a play.
