Haley, like the title character in "Mildred Pierce" -- a film of which she constantly reminds us -- is a single mother who runs a successful NYC restaurant. Having divorced a druggie in her native Texas, she was never about to get near drug dealings or laundered money. Her place of business, though, is suspected in both. Police are always asking her questions. Until recently, she hasn't had time for dating. Now that she has, she's found it hardly worth the time it takes to choose the right outfit and particularly the perfect shoes to wear to a date. She has a shoe fetish, and trying on pair after pair gives her characteristic activity with which to accompany her stories of bad dates.
Complete with Southern accent, Annie Fitzpatrick deftly changes clothes and shoes along with moods to describe the guys she meets. There's the man at a rainy Buddhist benefit who talked about bugs. A dinner companion was obsessed with his colon and cholesterol. A blind date her mother arranged turned out to be gay. Small wonder she took some initiative and phoned a dreamboat she almost sailed with five years ago and is on the brink of having sex with. When he's late, she phones him; then a more ominous call comes, and she's ready to run off. The end is quite rushed compared to what seems like an eternity of her stories about her dates.
Although Annie Fitzpatrick seldom falters in her virtuoso task, she hardly connects with us. She merely acts out a piece of fiction in an apartment as drab as her experiences. Either she or director Haney should be credited, however, with a few clever bits of business, such as her misting perfume and walking through it, as well as choreographed clothing changes. Haley's daughter Vera is supposed to be in another room off a hall, but we never believe it.
