The Unexpected Man, City Hall Theatre, January 31, February 1, 2 at 8 p.m.

The play, The Unexpected Man is an insightful look at the disconnect between a writer and his audience.

In the Unexpected Man, writer Paul Parski (Charles Shaughnessy), finds himself on a train car with one of his fans, a French woman (Judy Kuhn) who happens to be reading his most recent book, 'The Unexpected Man'.

Through ninety percent of the play the two characters pretend to ignore each other. The French woman agonises over how to approach her favourite author.

Paul agonises over whether he should go back on a laxative despite his son John's advice. Then he wonders why she doesn't know who he is.

The play operates on a suspense angle. Will these two characters ever get together? If they do, will they get along?

One of the best things about this play is the creative use of lighting and sound. The lighting was designed by Josh Bradford of New York City.

Throughout the play the light varies, as it would on a real train ride. Often the light ripples over the faces of the characters to mimic shadows and light caused by passing scenery.

A train whistles or rumbles to signal a change in character. The set itself is very simple, two train seats, and in the background a real train track winding around the stage.

Another good thing about the play are the actors themselves. The London-born Mr. Shaughnessy is well-known for his role in 'The Nanny'. Mr. Shaughnessy and Ms Kuhn are top quality actors. Ms Kuhn replaced Harriett Harris at the last minute, but still managed to shine through out her performance.

The premiss of the play, 'should I talk to him/her or not' is very ' junior high', but the idea behind it is interesting. It highlights the communication gap that naturally exists between most writers and their readers.

A writer rips out his heart, sticks it on a page and then tosses it to the winds. The writer can only imagine and agonise over who will catch the pages and read them.

The writer feels helpless because he can't stand over each and every reader explaining what he really meant.

He doesn't know how his audience really feels until some heartless reviewer writes, "my mother-in-law slept through this play from the moment the curtain rose. This play was an excellent cure for the insomnia the main character frequently moans about".

Meanwhile, the reader develops an image in her mind about the writer. The reader rarely has a chance to give feedback, or to argue with the writer's opinions.

For both characters, the train ride represents an attempt to bridge this gap. He gets to see someone actually reading his book and laughing in the right places, and she finally gets to challenge him on some of his points.

Unfortunately, too much of the play is spent in monologue about completely irrelevant subjects. The audience member has to be really patient and cerebral to love this play.

The two characters give us a stream of consciousness, but not always an interesting stream of consciousness. The first ten minutes of the play are particularly painful.

The writer natters on for so long about his bowel movements and his daughter's boyfriend, that the audience is tempted to stand up and shout for "goodness sake get on with it, or shut up".

There is one particularly clever moment in The Unexpected Man. The writer looks out at the audience and says words to the effect that audiences today have an irritatingly clever way of laughing at a play, as if to say 'I'm intellectual, I get it'.

The actual Bermuda Festival audience, as if on cue, titters in exactly the way the writer describes. Then he mimics back to the audience the way they have just laughed. Now that is funny!

The play comes alive fifteen minutes before the end, when the characters finally get up the nerve to talk to one another. They have an exchange.

It is interesting. The audience sits up. They are completely awake. Then it is over. The lights come down. More funny, weird laughter from the audience.

On the whole, 'The Unexpected Man' is unexpectedly worth seeing, if you're the patient sort.