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What if you threw yourself a birthday party and no one came? Might your inner child emerge to fashion imaginary companions out of whatever was at hand? Heavily spiked punch and a swirling imagination help the middle-aged puppet hero of Bill’s 44th turn frustrating disappointment into a psychedelic jamboree.
This wordless hero’s-journey goes more places in an hour than most of us see in a month. The show is a masterclass of puppetry, its action crisply synchronized with Eamon Fogarty’s jazzy, delightfully cheesy score. Expertly, Andy Manjuck and Dorothy James – both affiliated with the amazing Wakka Wakka – together operate torso-Bill, supplying his legs, arms, and personality, while Jon Riddleberger animates various other parts of the action.
With Bill’s paltry spread and dorky disco moves, his shindig would be far from the talk of any town. And as his frustration mounts and no one shows, his nervous preparations sour into sobbing loneliness. But then, fueled by alcohol, along with at least one other substance and a VCR tape full of memories, the mood, action, and technical artistry begin to warp and stretch.
It would be wrong to give away too much; suffice it to say that objects become subjects in a manner reminiscent of Pee Wee’s Playhouse, but with craftier lighting, the occasional jump scare, and nary a spoken word; and Bill’s life plays out before him in brilliant 3D mirror-image puppetry.
The show originally played during the pandemic to tiny, socially distanced audiences at stuffy Dixon Place. It’s now in more comfortable digs at Here in NYC, where it deserves attention and full houses. Bill’s 44th runs through July 28, after which it travels to the Edinburgh Fringe. Tickets and schedule are online.
