In the last minutes of Fool Muun Komming!, Sam Kruger allows himself to be vulnerable. Earlier would have been better.
I’m a fan of eccentricity but a show in which virtually all the performer offers is his own zaniness is kind of like a meal in which the sole ingredient is … I don’t know … marshmallows.
In Sam Kruger’s monologue, he plays a space alien who comes to Earth because he’s picked up a random text that says something like, “Where are you? I’m in the food court. I need you.”
That’s a great premise, but Fool Muun Komming! is short on both structure and content. For ninety-nine point nine percent of it, Kruger’s alien just riffs on psychedelic absurdities. He relates a dream about a three-way with Mahatma Gandhi and David Bowie, for instance. And, in another sequence, when Bowie cums. his orgasm projects a cartoon onto the alien’s face in which a pair of lovers try to scale his nose.
This might sound more interesting than it actually is. The material in Fool Muun Komming! is almost entirely solipsistic: it’s about the alien’s fantasies and the alien’s relationship to himself. There is an underlying romantic yearning in some of the material, but Kruger reveals that longing so tentatively and with so little external focus that nothing adds up and nothing really matters.
Kruger is talented. He moves well — he embodies a saucy gazelle at one point — and his imagination is undeniably rich. It’s frustrating though, that, with all of these gifts, he’s spinning his wheels in material that’s so self-referential.
At the Waterfront Theatre on September 7 (6:35 p.m.), 9 (10:35 p.m.), 10 (7:15p.m.), 12 (5:00 p.m.), 14 (12:45 p.m.), and 15 (8:00 p.m.) Tickets
This review is based on a performance at the Victoria Fringe.
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