Magnus Huntly-Grant reviews Sam Simmons' show Fail, and find it does anything but.
With virtually no prior knowledge of Sam Simmons or his new show, Fail, I expected something along the lines of a list of personal failures told with a brash antipodean twist. What I got was more like the workings of a man suffering a bizarre psychotic episode as the result of a lifetime's worth of being a loser.
Sam Simmons looks like a cross between Hunter S Thompson, Kevin Kline and the ‘sex offender’ from Guess Who? His show utilises more props than all the other stand ups in the Fringe with the stage set up to resemble his bedroom. Apparently gathering the detritus emptied the local Cash Converter.
Chief of all his on stage aids is his soundtrack, with which he is faultlessly synchronised. The combination of his impeccable timing and unhinged nature give the show a feeling of vertiginous precariousness, almost as if at any point he may flip out and actually kill himself.
For large chunks of the hour it really does appear that Simmon’s is a man beyond caring; he toys with the audience, always pushing the limits of what they can stand. At times he woos them, castigates them, appeals to them for love and actually expels a group of them from the show. Sometimes there is even a feeling that he is relishing the silences after jokes fall flat, as if he could have made them funnier but prefers the fail.
It’s virtually impossible to actually describe this show in any meaningful terms. It is in part a game show pastiche, film noir, tragic theatre and psychedelic cabaret. It is at times also uncomfortable and hilarious and tragic.
Altogether it is nothing short of five star entertainment, a fact I’m sure its creator will hate.
Epic Win.
Sam Simmons: Fail is at the Gilded Balloon Teviot until the 29th August
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