Insomniac exhibitionism for playwright Richard Bowen's protracted search for reality, when, awaking to a larger than life hangover, he tries to piece together the events of the previous hours. With frenetic recall he tries to -- and evades --the straightaways that lead to truth: traces his fight with his wife, Emily; the romance he wants to seize, and which he knows he must give up, with cinema star Julie; the worn out affair with Lila that threatens each of the other associations; the memory of his resentful hours with his analyst, Dr. Baume, which hold the whole truth, now shrouded in alcohol and self-willed forgetfulness. Here are the horrors of private hells, of the self-defeating neurotic, of the crisis of thrashing aggressions and hostilities, of the mechanisms of violence excused by humanitarian abnegation -- all ending in the fury of high-pressured murder. In the strip-tease, suspense school rather than the mystery field, this has a modern, nervous patter, unsublimated but integrated.