Moss Meunier
The trials and tribulation of immigration are made funny but remain heartbreaking in Sam See’s new show about his recent immigration to the UK. As recent as December 2023! Get ready to learn about Singapore Propaganda films, how NOT to find the best pub in Birmingham and whatever a ‘New Year Cow’ is.
Did you know that a Grammy is not considered a high enough award to be used as evidence for an “Exceptional Global Talent” visa by the British Government? Well, Sam found out the hard way during his immigration to the UK, though Sam is exceptional. As the only openly gay stand up in Singapore, he stood out, and he looked to the UK a place he could fit in. Yet over here he’s seen as an exception in his foreignness, so it seems he can never win.
From false promises of headlines, a particularly dodgy New Year Party and general racism – Sam tells the tale of his rocky first few months in London as well as all the reasons he chose to leave Singapore behind. Ever optimistic, he tries to find the joy and hope in the trials of immigration and assimilation, but that task feels insurmountable at times and his optimistic facade begins to crack as his journey evolves.
His frustration grows and he does everything perfectly to no avail. To Sam, immigration not only about finding oneself in another culture, but also about evolving within a career, within a community and the loneliness that can bring. Sam talks about comedy as a way to feel accepted, but there are pitfalls to this, allowing others to use homophobic slurs to introduce them onstage in Singapore, for example. It hits quite close to home and a fear I think many comedians outside of the norm can relate to, the pressure to make light of one’s differences and struggling not to dehumanize oneself in the process.
Sam is brilliant on stage, and although the show is billed as stand up, it reminded me of the Hannah Gadsby special Nannette, in that it sometimes felt more like a one-hand show with a humorous tone than full stand up. There are a few long moments of darkness and raw emotion, where Sam allows the tension and emotion to build without breaking the atmosphere with a cheap joke. Good storytelling is integral to comedy, and Sam is a fantastic storyteller as well as a comedian, so even when the jokes die down during the darker parts, the audience is still enraptured with the tale itself.
As talented as Sam is, the piece feels like it is missing an element, perhaps it feels too close to the truth to feel like a performance, blurring the lines between stand up and something else. It sits uncomfortably between the two, and I think Sam needs to think about where exactly the piece needs to go. Personally, I would like to see Sam sit in that discomfort that he touches on, the need to be perfect, a model immigrant, a model queer person, who has to perform optimism and sunshine even as he sits, jobless in a cupboard flat in London. Too foreign to be palatable, too close-by to be exotic.
It’s a rough diamond right now, but Sam’s talent shines through and I think this story will speak to anyone who’s felt the need to perform perfection to be accepted.
Recommended drink: Spritz feels right, bright, bubbly and colourful with a bitter taste on the tongue.
You can catch Sam See: And I Don’t Feel At Home In This World Anymore at Laughing Horse @ The Counting House – The Lounge from August 8-12, 14-19 and 21-25 at 17:45. Entrance is free and more info is available through the EdFringe Box Office.
Jake Mace
Phoebe Bakker
