Love in the Time of Mother opens with New Yorker Harvey Weissman doing jumping jacks. Seems a simple enough activity, until he announces he’s attempting not to masturbate. You have been warned — masturbation is a major topic in this solo comedy.
Weissman definitely had girl trouble, not to mention life trouble, and becoming a chronic masturbator was his solution (or was it the problem?). But then, Weissman meets Dudley, an elderly woman who lives in his apartment building. And things change. Not in a Harold and Maude sort of way, but for the better nonetheless.
Weissman manages to be endearing, even while appalling you with his escapades, because he’s an astonishingly honest, albeit sometimes awkward, storyteller. Love... would benefit from a bit more Dudley and a bit less onanism, but it’s a funny and unexpectedly touching show by a mighty brave performer.
— Barb Stewart
From the official Fringe Festival guide:
Good, old-fashioned perversion meets time-tested despair in this quirky tale of suburban isolation and misguided sexuality circa 1986, before YouTube, Caller ID and H69. Our hero takes us down his dark and humorous path until he finds connection with a cranky old lady named Dudley.
Warnings: Subject Matter, Language,
Son of Warehouse (Venue 5), to Sunday