Squeeze Box

What could have been a simple, sweet tale about a woman finding herself gets a jolt of saltiness in Anne Randolph's hands. Or, really, it's her face, with her large eyes and incredibly expressive tongue that can grab you out of your lulled state of deep liberal sympathy at the plight of the mentally ill women she worked with in Los Angeles and instead thrust you into a world where she can be just as desperate and dirty as the women she serves. Randolph isn't afraid to skewer anyone in her one-woman show – her sexual exploits with her boyfriend get a particularly detailed and not always flattering working over. Yet this choice actually makes her moments of insight into herself and others resonate all the more. Randolph isn't out to get you to congratulate her for taking on noble causes, but to see that she – like all of us – is simply struggling to cling to the faith we all need to find those small, incredible moments of happiness in our own lives.