As the play begins Marie and Bruce, a young married couple, are still in bed, he sleeping soundly, she excoriating him and vowing that she will put an end to their marriage. It seems that she had thrown away his ancient typewriter, which precipitated an ugly scene, but there is more to their problem than this. However, when Bruce wakes and prepares breakfast, he seems impervious to her insults and blithely unconcerned about her threats to leave him. Later, in an hilarious party scene (where some of the guests are impersonated by mannequins) Marie and Bruce mingle with a bizarre assortment of New York "types," while she tries to muster the courage to make the final break. Then, after they have adjourned to a Chinese restaurant (with a rather coarse, but very funny group at the next table) Marie finally boils over, and attempts not only to leave Bruce but virtually to destroy him. But, again, Bruce reacts as though he has barely heard her and she, in turn, realizes that it is his weakness, his vulnerability, which makes her need him. Their marriage, they both know, is terrible—and, of course, it will last forever.
Sophisticated, highly original, and often frank in its language, this comedic study of confusion and pain in a modern marriage. "MARIE AND BRUCE is the best play I've seen this season, a play that sees, hears, smells and tells more about the way we really live now than any American play in years." —Newsweek. "The play is unique and true, its author special." —Cue Magazine. "He has a true comic gift not only for the bizarre incident, but also for thumbnail-sketches and even the portrait of a relationship." —NY Post.