Adam Larter and Ali Brice: Plumpy'nut

The Plumpy’nut experience is a lot like Stockholm Syndrome. Lo-fi staging and costumes give a feel of the absurd, which is only confirmed when Adam Larter emerges dressed something like a farmer and proceeds to serenade us with a ludicrous number about his farm. Soon he is joined by his co-star Ali Brice, who shines as a talking pig, and there’s a reluctant feeling in the audience, almost as though we’re being forced to watch two nine-year-olds play dress-up. Surreal comedy is not unusual at the Fringe, but the haphazardness with which Larter and Brice deliver the show takes us to uncomfortable territory. Our patience is tested by their storytelling; meandering and farcical tales of a crafty big-city cat give very little sense that this whole thing is going anywhere or that we’re in safe hands, while aggressive audience interaction drains away any remaining comfort.

At a certain point—somewhere between the talking pig getting to Vegas and the dance version of "Up Where We Belong"—you can sense the audience give in and enjoy. To define this as anticomedy wouldn’t feel right given the sweet, shambolic nature of it all and yet there are some familiar elements, most prominently the tendency to stretch a joke for an eternity until it transitions from tedious to funny again. What seems to happen is an uncomfortable period of adjustment, a gradual warming to Larter and Brice and eventual hilarity at the sheer madness of it all. Difficult to watch, but pretty funny in the end.