Guy van Egmond
There’s a delicate tightrope to be walked by writers who use narrative shorthands. Rely on them too heavily and they invariably lead to a disengaged audience keeping one eye on the clock. However, when your show has a shoestring budget and a 60-minute timeslot, cliches can be effective ways to bypass exposition and set up inventive punchlines.
The dropkick-dickhead-satire Don the Monsta gives this balancing act a very decent crack, delivering a story that feels fresh yet classic; like a fantastical anecdote about ‘that one group of guys’ from highschool.
Rory Grant and Simon Ulm play Don, a highschool senior, and Andy, an older, mom’s-basement-dwelling loser, in a Be More Chill-style narrative that sees a Monster Energy-branded cap pull Don into Andy’s downward-spiral lifestyle as a social outcast. The two become self-absorbed couch-dwellers with only a middle-finger to spare for the rest of the world. I could remember exactly the archetype: it may as well have been [REDACTED] swaggering down the school hallway, or [ALSO REDACTED] and his mates sack-tapping some other poor kid. The story leaned into this character heavily as a basis upon which to build a story.
Inventing and building upon cliches was when the show was strongest. There was a feisty, fuck-the-system monologue about being a cornered squirrel, and a great dialogue bit that combined cucking and pizza-making. A lot of the gags were clearly the result of two lads brainstorming and having a laugh, but they were clever and well-executed. They displayed a strong knowledge of how far an audience will come with you in a bit, once you’ve won them over and disbelief has been suspended.
The team did a very commendable job at keeping the stage dynamic, despite a very sparse set. A carousel of costume changes turned Simon into a horde of school bullies and simple projections let the two characters exist in a world that was far more than basement-sized. Special mention should be made of Charlie Morse, whose lighting and sound design was on-point. The power of a well-timed lighting change or an in-sync sound effect to make a show feel so much more professional was evident in this case. The variety of physical, narrative and audio gags kept the show fresh and exciting.
Admittedly, it had its slower points. There was a definite sag in pace over the second act, where the character stereotypes were only reinforced. This is where the play would have most benefited from an insightful push beyond its tropes, which may well have changed its standard narrative arc. A lack of script refinement may have contributed to this, but so did a lack of trust in their audience. The show’s playbill reveals a fear of subject association by the team: a worry that the piece might be misinterpreted as endorsement rather than satire. They need not have worried; their taking of the piss was clear.
The other points of critique are small but sharp. There was a discordant clash between the use of American surfer-esque accents and the implied NZ context, as well as several instances of corpsing and messy stage management. However, the show’s ongoing Boosted campaign suggests a motivation to take this piece beyond Fringe, which will serve it well. If the team can build on their experience performing at the Gryphon, push their narrative further and polish their skills on- and off-stage, Don the Monsta could become quite a good piece to tour with.
Don the Monsta was, most beautifully, what a Fringe show is meant to be. A bit silly, a little low-budget, but heartfelt and fun. Armed with a couple of gags, half a crowdfunding campaign and a few friends to man the stage, it really is that easy to make a neat little show. But kudos to those who commit and see it through. In a time where small-scale arts—hell, arts of any scale—is becoming harder and harder to produce, the perseverance of Fringe and the artists who engage with it is a beacon of hope. Even when said beacon glows neon-green and smells faintly of weed.
Rory Grant and Simon Ulm play Don, a highschool senior, and Andy, an older, mom’s-basement-dwelling loser, in a Be More Chill-style narrative that sees a Monster Energy-branded cap pull Don into Andy’s downward-spiral lifestyle as a social outcast. The two become self-absorbed couch-dwellers with only a middle-finger to spare for the rest of the world. I could remember exactly the archetype: it may as well have been [REDACTED] swaggering down the school hallway, or [ALSO REDACTED] and his mates sack-tapping some other poor kid. The story leaned into this character heavily as a basis upon which to build a story.
Inventing and building upon cliches was when the show was strongest. There was a feisty, fuck-the-system monologue about being a cornered squirrel, and a great dialogue bit that combined cucking and pizza-making. A lot of the gags were clearly the result of two lads brainstorming and having a laugh, but they were clever and well-executed. They displayed a strong knowledge of how far an audience will come with you in a bit, once you’ve won them over and disbelief has been suspended.
The team did a very commendable job at keeping the stage dynamic, despite a very sparse set. A carousel of costume changes turned Simon into a horde of school bullies and simple projections let the two characters exist in a world that was far more than basement-sized. Special mention should be made of Charlie Morse, whose lighting and sound design was on-point. The power of a well-timed lighting change or an in-sync sound effect to make a show feel so much more professional was evident in this case. The variety of physical, narrative and audio gags kept the show fresh and exciting.
Admittedly, it had its slower points. There was a definite sag in pace over the second act, where the character stereotypes were only reinforced. This is where the play would have most benefited from an insightful push beyond its tropes, which may well have changed its standard narrative arc. A lack of script refinement may have contributed to this, but so did a lack of trust in their audience. The show’s playbill reveals a fear of subject association by the team: a worry that the piece might be misinterpreted as endorsement rather than satire. They need not have worried; their taking of the piss was clear.
The other points of critique are small but sharp. There was a discordant clash between the use of American surfer-esque accents and the implied NZ context, as well as several instances of corpsing and messy stage management. However, the show’s ongoing Boosted campaign suggests a motivation to take this piece beyond Fringe, which will serve it well. If the team can build on their experience performing at the Gryphon, push their narrative further and polish their skills on- and off-stage, Don the Monsta could become quite a good piece to tour with.
Don the Monsta was, most beautifully, what a Fringe show is meant to be. A bit silly, a little low-budget, but heartfelt and fun. Armed with a couple of gags, half a crowdfunding campaign and a few friends to man the stage, it really is that easy to make a neat little show. But kudos to those who commit and see it through. In a time where small-scale arts—hell, arts of any scale—is becoming harder and harder to produce, the perseverance of Fringe and the artists who engage with it is a beacon of hope. Even when said beacon glows neon-green and smells faintly of weed.