As a very serious play, I was expecting more of the same. The present production by the same playwright, "Moon over the Brewery," is far lighter, far lovelier and almost sweet without being sappy. This man has depth, as well as breadth.

Four characters comprise the cast - a single mom and her 13-year-old daughter, the daughter’s imaginary companion and a mailman.

All are well-conceived and beautifully re-created. The mom, who works as a waitress and an artist, is struggling to pay the bills and is looking for some comfort and companionship beyond her daughter.

Michelle Pfundstein is utterly believable as Miriam. She is visibly torn between being a mom and being a woman with needs of her own, a common inner conflict, especially for single moms.

Her daughter, Amanda, strongly rendered by Amanda J. Hull, resents her mother’s search for a partner and tries to sabotage her efforts by means of her clever imaginary companion, Randolph, a character who really represents Amanda’s creative side, the side who helps her solve problems and get what she wants.

Travis A. Knight, a splendid figure, sashays around in various costumes that link to the book that Amanda is reading at the moment. He advises her as to her best strategy in eliminating all her mother’s suitors. His presence provides a touch of fantasy in the realism of their ordinary lives.

Bill, the fourth character, is a mailman who has been enjoying lunch with Miriam for several years at the diner where she works. He is fond of her but doesn’t want to lose what they have by making a move on her.

Dan Katula is impressive in his portrayal of Bill, an ordinary guy who is uncommonly genuine, a little awkward, comfortably imperfect, steady, strong and increasingly lovable as his character unfolds.

We are pulling for him and for Miriam, but we are also able to understand Amanda’s fears. There are no bad guys here, just human beings trying to survive, trying to taste some joy and create some beauty along the way. The quilt is a powerful presence in the play and constitutes a pivotal point in the plot.

The functional scenic design by Dana Fralick accommodates indoor and outdoor scenes simultaneously, and the dŽcor reflects Miriam’s paintings and quilting skills, as well as their limited means living in the hills of Pennsylvania near the brewery. Properties Master Meghan Savagian did a good job of gathering appropriate props to create the atmosphere.

The seating in the Milwaukee Chamber Theatre’s Studio Theatre has been adapted to bring us closer to the action. That decision was a wise one.

Anyone who is a parent, anyone who has ever fallen in love and anyone who has tried to devise means of coping with and enhancing their life can relate to this story.

The script is beautifully and imaginatively conceived, convincingly executed and delightfully satisfying. Kudos to Director Angela Iannone for her splendid work.

There is a shortage of sweetness around. This production could modify that deficiency a bit. I would strongly recommend it.

The show runs through Dec. 13.

Call 414-291-7800 for tickets.

‘The Headless Woman’

grabs your attention

By Steven Snyder

TimeOut Film Critic

Vero (Maria Onetto), a middle-aged woman, drives down a road during a downpour and as she reaches to answer her cell phone, she feels and hears a few thuds, as if her car had run over a something.

She immediately stops her car, freezes and simply drives away without looking back to see what or who she had run over. It appears to be that she ran over a dog, which lies dead on the road, but she’s under the impression that it was a young boy instead who she accidentally killed.

After stopping by the hospital to get an X-ray, she goes about her business, continuing an affair with a married man. But from that day forward, Vero acts strangely, almost as if she has amnesia from the accident. She starts to experience trauma from the accident itself and from her fear that she killed a young boy.

Even though, initially, she’s not completely sure about whether or not she actually ran over a boy, her memory and fear play tricks on her, and she slips into the depths of despair, convinced that she’s done something truly unforgivable.

The time it takes Vero to even acknowledge that her hit-and-run may have killed more than a dog feels like an eternity compared to the quick way her family moves to assure her it can’t be true - all the while investigating to see if, perhaps, there was an accident reported that night.

What’s most effective and creepy about the film is how Vero slowly but surely purges the guilt from her mind, convincing herself that this ugly possibility simply can’t be true, that even the body found in the canal has to be someone else, mistakenly drowned.

Perhaps the most important feature of "The Headless Woman" is Martel’s ability to graphically demonstrate Vero’s moral confusion and interior psychology. This is achieved by overlapping dialogue, which much of the time Veronica does not seem to hear or pay attention to, but captures her disorientation and trauma exceptionally well.

Martel’s methods of shooting also add to the effect. She refuses to use subjective shots, thus showing Veronica’s own point of view and perspective.

The camera remains neutral, observing rather than reflecting a state of mind. Veronica is featured in almost every shot, almost always in the foreground with a shallow focus of the camera. It is Veronica who is constantly emphasized in each shot, even though Martel’s busy scenes reveal other characters and events taking place in the background.

Veronica is too startled and disorientated to notice what else is going on, hence the equally blurred and confused cinematography.

An impenetrable map to Vero’s stifled mind, "The Headless Woman" taps into a well of emotions, nearly none of them pleasant, and yet all of them made me want to watch this enigma unravel again right away.