Review: There’s a problem with Sam Morrison’s solo exhibition ‘Sugar Daddy’

In “Sugar Daddy,” comedian Sam Morrison sets out to turn tragedy into stand-up comedy. A form of self-therapy, the show (at Wallace until Oct. 13) tells the story of how he met the “dad” of his dreams, only to lose him to COVID a few years later.

Morrison wasn’t necessarily looking for a long-term romance when she traveled to gay mecca Provincetown for the Spooky Bear festival. He clearly wanted to meet a man, preferably older, with a big belly and a generous personality. But he was young, good-looking and on vacation and wanted to try the menu.

“I’m a diabetic,” he explained at the end of the show. “My type is number 1. category Type 2.” He won’t mind if you label him a “chubby chaser,” but he will call you a “golden retriever.”

Directed by Stephen Brackett, a Tony Award nominee for his staging of “A Strange Loop,” the production features an egg-like object on Arnulfo Maldonado’s set. This strangely shaped sculpture transforms into a giant hairy pear that Morrison affectionately rubs, courtesy of Alex Basco Koch’s video design. He likes what he likes, and if he finds his own tastes strange, he finds existing heterosexuality even more strange.

The encounter with Jonathan was aided by a Category 3 hurricane. Morrison was staying in a hammock at a campsite that was great for an orgy but not suitable for a natural disaster. He needed shelter, which meant he had to find a connection before the pub closed.

I’m sure there’s a lonely bear out there willing to save a 20-something fetishist in trouble. But before Morrison knew it, the club was closed and he was trapped under the metal awning of the pizzeria in an increasingly panicked state. “I am anxious, asthmatic, ADHD, gay, and Jewish with diabetes.” He screamed, repeating the list to make the audience aware of the severity of the situation.

Salvation comes when a person hits him. Morrison was about to scream, but changed his mind when he saw how handsome the man was. “You’re the hottest daddy in Ptown.” He went on a drunken rant and was invited to a small Airbnb.

Nora Ephron probably wouldn’t have been tempted to turn this story into a romantic comedy. The transactional nature of this case is not particularly heartwarming. The words “old” and “fat” that Morrison speaks lustfully in the setting reflect patterns of the mind that reduce homosexuals to physical and sexual stereotypes. Morrison, who punctuates his lines with the exclamation “Slay!”, sometimes sounds like Grindr come to life.

The Wallis presents “Sugar Daddy,” starring comedian Sam Morrison.

(Jason Williams)

Despite their many differences, the two men begin dating in New York. Jonathan adores Liza and Morrison adores Lizzo, but they both love laughing and having sex. What more do couples need?

When Jonathan suggests that Morrison move into his apartment, Morrison gets cold feet. But months later, after COVID-19 shook their world, they decided to quarantine at Morrison’s grandmother’s home in Rockland County, New York. Holing out at grandma’s house with an older lover during a global crisis might seem like the perfect opportunity for comedy, but not Morrison. Don’t give me any details except to say that they have developed their own affectionate form of nonsense.

After months of confinement and tensions rising, they departed for the now eerily empty Provincetown. The exact chronology of events is clouded by the way Morrison jumps around in time, but when Jonathan tests positive for COVID-19, no one suspects he will be on a ventilator within two weeks.

“Sugar daddies” are doing something I’ve never seen done before, despite the staggering number of COVID-19 deaths. It records the sudden loss of one person.

Although Jonathan’s portrait is only a sketch, he is remembered fondly. Morrison misses his late partner’s huge belly laugh that would devour everything in its orbit. When he first heard it, Morrison thought Jonathan was into Molly, but he was naturally into humor.

Morrison’s observations about Jonathan take the form of jokes. When going out with friends, Jonathan loved ordering “over 400 appetizers for the table,” and he reportedly left plenty of ashes for his loved ones to easily share. Not wanting to offend, Morrison sometimes seems shallow.

He decided to stay true to his stand-up calling. Everything is fair game for laughs, including his glucose monitor. An interesting twist turns out to be the legacy of his relationship (and the unexpected meaning behind the show’s title).

There’s talk of “Sugar Daddy” moving to Broadway. The show is hosted by some celebrities including Alan Cumming and Billy Porter. But comedy is subjective. Some people may feel a laugh riot, while others may ignore it for attention.

As a self-described ‘millennial comedian’, Morrison doesn’t strike me as the smartest person to tell jokes. He doesn’t have Hannah Gadsby’s verbal virtuosity, Alex Edelman’s zeitgeist radar or Mike Birbiglia’s off-kilter sneer.

The tense punchline made me wonder if Morrison honed his stand-up act while ordering drinks in loud gay clubs. I was moved by his story and applauded his resilience. But “Sugar Daddy” didn’t elicit many memorable belly laughs from this sympathetic reviewer.