Adam Bock's winsome playlet with an absurdist bent tells a story of six contemporary Rhode Island characters in search of clarity in their primary relationships. The middle-aged marrieds are Bob and Barb, whose names in this Rhode Island are pronounced the same: "Bawb." She (played by Mary Shultz) tears around in a Buddhist frenzy to rid herself of most possessions; he (Murphy Guyer) just buys more. Donna (Rosemarie DeWitt) and Carla Carla (Susan Pourfar) are a lesbian couple ambivalent about getting married, ostensibly because of Donna's failure to quit smoking—and lying about it. Then there's Nick (Michael Arden), a gay 30-something who can't seem to get a single callback from any of his crushes. That is, until he meets the Shark (Logan Marshall-Green) at the local aquarium.
Marshall-Green's talking, even dancing (the Swim, naturally) Shark is splendid, and all the other performances are uniformly excellent. Despite his odd premise—a man being attracted to an omnivorous fish—Bock has peppered this piece with lots of humor of recognition. But the real star here is set designer David Korins' aquarium tank, in which the Shark swims flowingly until he keeps bumping his head against the glass (he was captured from the nearby ocean). Director Trip Cullman has aptly kept his staging horizontal—and shallow—stringing his characters along one long bench against Korins' deceptively simple cinder-block wall, which lifts to reveal the shark tank as needed. The swimming is literally done with mirrors.
Self-narrated by most members of the cast when a change of time or topic is called for, the play is linear and devoid of subtext. Its dazzling main metaphor couldn't be less subtle: Don't we all hit our heads against the glass while trying to swim free? Perhaps that is why in the end, "Swimming" is funny enough, but not quite touching.