Image via MICF
Sam Simmons is known for his quirky, absurdist comedy. He is a hyperactive and hilarious powerhouse, who spends the entirety of his stage time running around with random props, yelling at audience members, and generally making a huge mess.
Spaghetti for Breakfast is just another insanely brilliant Simmons classic. A pre-recorded voiceover is blasted through the speakers for the majority of the show, which allows him to form a unique dialogue with himself as he performs along with whatever the narrator (which is his own voice) announces. This means that while the performance itself is ridiculously random, it is also incredibly structured, to the point that there is little room for error otherwise it won’t take long for the entire show to completely unravel.
When doors open, Simmons is already pacing up and down the stairs of the theatre, impatiently waiting for his audience to take their seats. Dressed in a fluffy white dressing gown, he reads some dubious excerpts out loud from Richard Wilkins’ memoirs, and has everyone in hysterics before the show has even officially started. The stage is noticeably tidy, everything stark white in colour and set out neatly; those familiar with Simmons’ style of comedy just know this level of cleanliness isn’t going to last very long. Once the show begins, and most latecomers have taken their seats (be prepared to be both verbally and physically attacked if you are late), the show explodes into chaotic hilarity.
The recurring ‘Things That Shit Me’ voiceover allows Simmons to play out a variety of weird and wonderful scenarios, as he enacts some odd but relatable scenarios that frustrate him. We watch as he transforms cereal into various drugs, makes some interesting observations about innocent picture books, and attempts to fish using a piece of toast. His aggressive use of food is not a new concept for him, but it continues to be unbelievably funny no matter how many times he flings edible goods at the audience. Song medleys, angry speeches and cheesy dance moves add further variety to Simmons’ creation, with his song about discovering a grey pubic hair particularly entertaining.
There were several moments in which the voiceover got away from him, and he either missed the punchline and moved on, or got angry at himself and requested that the sound technician repeat the escaped joke. Most of the time this worked in his favour, as his fury at his error created even more laughs, but perhaps some of the transitions between segments could afford to be longer. Spaghetti for Breakfast gets slightly dark in some parts, where Simmons hints at an abusive upbringing that has made him the madman he is today. It would be interesting to see him delve even further down that path, but perhaps that is something for a future performance.
At one point during the show, this crazed comedian attempts regular stand-up. He puts on ‘normal’ clothes over his white t-shirt and shorts, and tries to deliver a string of relatable comedy to counteract the fact that his material makes absolutely no sense at all. Hopefully this is an endeavour never to be seen again; Simmons is a delightful alternative to the average comedy festival show, and judging from the reaction of the crowd, everyone much prefers his standard high-energy, nonsensical fun.
Rating: 4 out of 5 starsSpaghetti for Breakfast
By Sam Simmons
ACMI – Beyond
26 March – 19 April
