Sleepwalk with Me

Lots of comedians go legit by exploring their ailments: Julia Sweeney tackled her cancer in God Said, “Ha!” and Margaret Cho came clean about her eating issues in I’m the One That I Want. Mike Birbiglia’s autobiographical solo show, Sleepwalk with Me, mines his severe sleeping disorder for humor and—when the self-deprecating funnyman sticks to his main subject—his anecdotes are so hilarious and horrifying they just may keep you up at night.

After opening with a great “turn off your cell phone” rant, Birbiglia launches into his life, sketching a brief family portrait (distant doctor dad, chatty mom) before turning to his darker woes. He is a truly gifted performer; the guy consistently gets laughs just by saying “yeah” and “I know.” As a playwright, however, he’s got a way to go.

When Birbiglia tries to weave other personal traumas—a dysfunctional relationship, a teenage bout with bladder cancer—into the story, they don’t quite fit in. Handled with more finesse, they might inform the main narrative; at present, they seem like leftovers from his regular stand-up routine, slathered on the meat of the play. As an extended comedy act, Sleepwalk with Me is tremendously entertaining. But if Birbiglia wants the show to become a full-fledged theater piece, he’s going to have to sleep on it.