Mother Eve's Secret Garden of Sensual Sisterhood

“What if you loved yourself as much as you love cheese?” warbles the self-made self-help guru Mother Eve (Ashley Wren Collins) at the beginning of this rock musical. If you use the phrase girl power unironically and are a fan of yogurt commercials, cosmopolitans and Cosmopolitan, then Mother Eve’s Secret Garden of Sensual Sisterhood may be for you. If, however, you think that a group hug, a shopping spree and an upbeat song about your vagina are not cure-alls for every situation, I'd suggest that you avoid this particular Eden. Although cocreators Uma Incrocci, Erica Jensen, Kirk McGee and Christian Pedersen initially set up Mother Eve as an object of comedy—the type that might work best in a seven-minute SNL sketch—they rapidly drink their own Kool-Aid. Soon, she’s coaching a group of hapless young women (whom she rechristens after plants) through their cutesy issues: Making lady friends! Feeling good about your body! Being good at dating! And the sole nonbeliever in the group must, of course, be made to see the error of her naysaying, non-floral-pattern-wearing ways. Impressively, the only instrumental accompaniment comes from Pedersen, who plays a mean acoustic guitar. The rest is a mixed bag; for every song, joke and performance that works, there are two that don’t. Like the girls in Mother Eve’s program, this peppy, treacly show tries way too hard to be charming. (Visit our Fringe Festival page for more reviews, and fringenyc.org for more information.)—Jenna Scherer