At Under St. Mark’s Theater as part of the NYC Fringe Festival, Watch Me Sleep is an intense, close-up look at a relationship that feels both deeply real and quietly unsettling. In a small black box space where everything is visible from the moment you walk in, it’s easy to start searching for meaning in the set. But as the piece unfolds, it becomes clear that the real focus is entirely on the two people at the centre of it.
What really sticks is the way the show handles its energy. It swings sharply between extremes, going from loud, explosive arguments to moments that are much quieter and more fragile. In such a small space, the shouting could feel like too much, but it never tips over into being uncomfortable for the wrong reasons. Instead, it feels deliberate and well controlled. The contrast keeps you engaged, and at times it feels closer to watching a really strong TV drama play out live than a traditional stage piece.
The performances are a huge part of that. Both actors, Rose Treloar and Damon Manns, go all in, with a style that feels very natural and unfiltered. Nothing is held back. When they cry, they really cry. When they argue, it feels raw and unpredictable. There’s a strong connection between them that makes the relationship completely believable, even when it starts to become difficult to watch. You feel pulled into it, but also slightly unsure of where it might go.
The story moves between present and past, gradually showing how the relationship has developed over time. What starts as something hopeful shifts into something much more complicated, as we see how six months can turn into four years, and how love can get tangled up with past experiences and personal baggage.
There are also some nice theatrical touches along the way, including moments where the actors speak directly to the audience in a way that feels honest rather than showy, and sequences where the sound drops out but the action continues. These are handled with really tight timing.
At its heart, the play is about a kind of love that isn’t straightforward. It’s passionate, but also volatile. The arguments build and build, sometimes getting close to a line you’re not sure they’ll avoid, but the writing keeps things focused on the emotional roots of that behaviour rather than pushing it into something more obvious. We learn quite a bit about his background and what drives him, while she remains more of a question mark. Her love feels genuine, but it comes out through jealousy, control, and flashes of anger that are harder to fully understand.
There are a few moments that really land, including an early shift where something that sounds gentle and affectionate suddenly takes on a different tone through a subtle change in lighting and music. The technical elements are used carefully throughout, supporting what’s happening without drawing too much attention to themselves. The set is minimal, but it does enough to help you picture the world without overloading the space.
The way the show connects with the audience also works well. There’s some direct eye contact and moments of speaking out, but it never feels forced. It’s more like being told a story by someone who trusts you, rather than being dragged into the action. That sense of honesty carries through the whole piece.
Watch Me Sleep isn’t always easy to sit with, but it’s consistently gripping. It’s a well put together, confidently performed piece that leaves you thinking about the relationship at its center long after it ends.
We’re giving this 4/5 Ds (D D D D)
Watch Me Sleep is still running at the NYC Fringe, catch performances on April 16, 18 and 19. More information and tickets here: NYC Fringe Tickets
