THE WALL OF WATER
The Wall of Water, something of a postmodernist sitcom, is a fast-paced barrage of one-line jokes, mistaken identities, slammed doors, sexual high jinks and the occasional philosophical revelation. It’s set, as most of these things are, in a “huge apartment on the upper west side” of Manhattan, an abode inhabited by four roommates, each one battier than the next. Judy, an allergist and researcher, works herself into an orgasmic frenzy while reading the New York Times food section; Denise, the so-called party girl, delights in designer dresses and keeps a file of her sexual conquests; Wendi is a pill-popping loony who’s driving herself and everyone around her to the brink of a nervous breakdown; and Meg seems to think of only one thing–killing Wendi. Add to this mixture a motley assortment of male characters–a jittery nurse, a sweet yuppie grieving over his mother’s death, a pompous cancer specialist, and an eccentric old bird of a doctor who promotes his theories on pain on late-night television–and before long you know that someone will sleep with the wrong person, someone will take the wrong medication, and a fair number of doors will be slammed.
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It’s almost as if Kramer, after watching an eternity of sitcoms, had decided to play a joke on all of us and create a sitcom from hell. She would introduce a rogue’s gallery of broad, wacky characters, use comic timing and comedy’s pace, leave spaces for laughter, create a mounting stack of comedic improbabilities–essentially come up with the perfect, quintessential sitcom. The only thing missing would be a sense of humor.
