Italian playwright Luigi Pirandello wrote a famous play in the early part of the 20th century called “Six Characters in Search of an Author.” Post-modern before such a thing really took hold in pop culture, it involves an acting company rehearsing a play (also written by Pirandello) but interrupted by six strangers, who claim to be characters from an unfinished story. The acting troupe at first scoffs at this tale, but their Director agrees to stage the characters’ stories all the same. Eventually, the line between what is real and what is unreal becomes utterly unclear, leaving both the Director and the audience unnerved by what transpires before the curtain drops.
I bring all this up not simply to justify the amount of money that my parents sank into my college education, but also because “Fringe” for a while felt like “Three Characters in Search of a Story.” Since the show couldn’t seem to settle upon what it wanted to be, it stranded Olivia, Walter, and Peter amidst a sea of “Patterns of the Week” and half-hearted, contradictory attempts at mythology. Even mentioning the word “Pattern” at this point feels hopelessly anachronistic, as if I was talking about riding one of those old-timey bikes with the enormous front wheel and small rear one.
But now? Well, a penny-farthing appears onscreen, and I cackle mercilessly.
[Full recap of Thursday's (Sept. 23) "Fringe" after the break...]