Sam Morrison (Photo by Jason Williams)
Reviewed by Steven Vargas
Lovelace Studio Theater at The Wallis
Through October 13
Sam Morrison self-subscribes to multiple identities: asthmatic, gay, diabetic, ADHD, and Jewish. But in a show dedicated to the loss of his long-term partner, he rarely self-identifies as anything akin to a widow. Instead, he points to the glucose monitor on his upper arm and labels it the latest reincarnation of his deceased boyfriend. It’s his personal sugar daddy.
“Sugar Daddy,” currently running at The Wallis in Beverly Hills, is a witty one-man comedy based on Morrison’s relationship with his late lover, Jonathan. In hopes of processing grief, Morrison takes viewers to Provincetown where he first met the bear (a gay term used to reference a large, hairy queer man) of his dreams. They had a fruitful relationship that changed Morrison’s life. When the pandemic arrives, COVID takes Jonathan’s life and Morrison is left to pick up the pieces in front of a packed house by recounting the best (and bitter) parts of his grieving process.
After premiering at the 2022 Edinburgh Fringe Festival in Scotland and having an off-Broadway run at SoHo Playhouse in 2023, the show has arrived in L.A. under the direction of Stephen Brackett. Given the difference in perspective between East Coast and West, some New York-centric references and current events stick only for the special few who are familiar. The story also has plenty of scattered time jumps and loose narrative threads that could use massaging. Still, the memories and takeaways Morrison shares from his outlandish and boldly humorous reflections reveal a heartbeat that grounds “Sugar Daddy,” and pulls the loose strings tightly together.
The show’s central set piece is a large oblong spheroid designed by Arnulfo Maldonado that often features the image of a hairy belly (Alex Basco Koch’s video design). Morrison sometimes rushes to it, embracing it with arms wide as he moans and slurps into his mic. Bears are his type. His humor is brazen and unapologetically queer, so much so that it takes someone with a strong gut of their own to withstand it. His quick quips keep the energetic flow of the show afloat. In one moment, the “pentagon” of penises surrounding him at the “dick dock” of P-Town is dispersed by a surprise drag performance. In the next, he’s flinging twinks (a gay term for a young queer man with a slim physique) into the air as their high-pitched shrieks echo in the distance.
Morrison’s relationship with Jonathan is poetically woven into each absurd joke. The flock of birds attacking him evolves into a sign from Jonathan making fun of Morrison’s Morrison’s way of coping with his diabetes — his relying on a raisin to stabilize his sugar levels. Being held at gunpoint becomes another of Jonathan’s post-posthumous pranks. Morrison’s writing has an unexpected way of making the most left-field remarks find their way back to a heartfelt memory.
Even Provincetown, the site of scandalous and sexual adventures, evolves into a tender character. Morrison frequently references Spiritus Pizza where the two first met. Morrison was looking for shelter from a storm and Jonathan was a handsome man with a bed perfect for two. What was meant to be a survival romp became a blossoming relationship.
In Morrison’s telling, the beauties of P-Town come to life, and he returns even after Jonathan’s death to remember them all. He recalls the waves in the water flowing like big bellies of the sea, as he refers to them. He recalls the secret language they created while in quarantine during the pandemic. He recalls seeing Jonathan the morning after they first met, laughing with his friends like a 13-year-old girl in an old gay man’s body.
Morrison looks out towards the audience as if gazing at the ocean as waves are projected behind him. These waves are no longer just part of the seaside town. They are packed with memories and “I love you”s. And though we never actually see or hear it, Jonathan’s signature belly laugh can be imagined. As Morrison looks out, you can hear the laugh through his memories. It is loud and hearty.
Morrison tells us that, while creating the show, he worried about diminishing Jonathan’s life to a quick laugh. But, as he learned from his therapist, “To give meaning to his life cannot trivialize his death.”
Wallis Annenberg Center for the Performing Arts, Lovelace Studio Theater, 9390 N. Santa Monica Blvd., Beverly Hills. Tues.-Sat., 8 pm, Sat., 2:30 pm, October 13 at 2:30pm and 7:00pm, no performances on Sunday, October 6, with a perf. Fri., Oct. 4, 12 pm; thru Oct. 13. sugardaddyshow.com Running time: One hour and 15 minutes with no intermission.
