Naked in a Fishbowl
An “improvised sit-com”, Naked in a Fishbowl creates a new episode every night, with the audience having no idea what to expect from the ladies who strive to bring “a little of NYC to land of Scot.” The cast fly by the seat of their pants from scene to scene, the best bits are also cut up as web videos.
At its very best moments Naked in a Fishbowl pines to emulate the warts-and-all post-feminist TV of Ally McBeal or early Sex and the City. At no point did we ever appear to reach edgy or insightful though, mainly musing on masterbation with electric toothbrushes and the running battles to be faced with your conscious if infidelity is too frequent an occupation.
The show is a mesh of names, often apparently created on the fly for off-stage romantic interests. The dialogue flows just quicker than everyday conversation until someone throws a spanner in the direction of a scene or over-complicates things. Fluidity is occasionally reached when an individual actress is allowed to riff, whilst other scenes are only rescued when a blackout is imposed from the tech box.
Katharine Heller as bride-to-be Sara keeps things driving forwards, with Molly Knefel as Alice also giving a note-worthy performance and appearing the power source within her scenes. As the house lights came back up I have to admit I was sorry to see the end of Naked in a Fishbowl, but fear I was left wanting only because nothing had really happened yet.
