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Fringe: Sam Simmons


Fringe: Sam Simmons

Nick Focareta

Sam Simmons doesn't exactly prescribe to the notion of conventional comedy. A quick look at any one of his surrealist stand up shows is enough to get the idea. But that's what makes him so perfectly suited for the Fringe. 

Now I have to be careful here, not to avoid offending sam's delicate sensibilities, but to give you, the potential audience, a feel for the show without being too specific. See, any kind of specificity - the format, length, level of interactivity - would spoil the premise and a lot of the highly interwoven jokes. So I guess I'll be as vague as possible while still giving you some idea of what to expect. The entire show is essentially a stream of verbal diarrhoea; Mr Simmons' internal monologue being screamed at the audience. And it's fucking fantastic.

There are countless outdated and Adelaide oriented references, a stupidly meta tirade directed at some of the other more self righteous comedians out there (*cough* Tom Ballard *cough*), along with heavy, involuntary audience participation. Though this changes daily. It's like one of those farm to table restaurants that changes its menu depending on the seasonal produce. Only the jokes are changed, because someone had a bit too much to drink the night before and has forgotten the 'script' or no one laughed at the set up to name related gag.

Here in lies the beauty of Sam Simmons' comedy. His ability to talk shit and respond to and change the crowd's energy, performing what can only be described as Judd Apatow level improv (dangerously hit and miss for those playing at home), IS the show. It's why I've seen his last 4 fringe shows and it's why I'll continue to for as long as he's performing them. His show doesn't have to be about anything; it doesn't even have to make any sense. All it needs is a 40 year old bald man not afraid of showing some skin berating me for not remembering Fruche.

5 stars

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