Director Johanna Gruenhut and set designer Ryan Haase understand the play's unreal reality. The entire story, which is divided into chapters like a storybook, takes place in that liminal space where Lucy's imagination bleeds into the blunt ordinariness of a working-class life in New Jersey, where Lucy's mom is overworked and underpaid, where Emily just wants to watch TV, smoke cigarettes, and invite her boyfriend George (Mike Smith) over to hook up while she's supposed to be watching Lucy. Haase's set is a riot of frozen pea green, with hidden doors that provide gateways into wherever Lucy's mind takes her. And Gruenhut has successfully calibrated the cast into shifting spheres of existence: When Bannon, for example, is dealing with Lucy as her mother or babysitter, her attitude is placating and condescending, the stance an adult takes when talking to a child. Painter's Lucy is an exposed nerve throughout, sounding every bit like the still-forming human when talking to her mom, but oddly experienced when talking with Mr. Marmalade, who interacts with her as more of a peer, though it's an immature version of maturity.