There’s a sort of desperation that makes people go insane. Sometimes the desire for something is so strong, you’d cast all common sense aside in its pursuit. You’d betray for it, you’d die for it, you’d sell your soul to the devil for it. Tonight I witnessed that desperation in a perfect, hilarious distilled form that could only come from a duo equally as unhinged as each other.

I am, of course, talking about Fame or Die, a sketch show performed and written by Nina Hogg and Megan Connolly of Jez and Jace fame with support and direction from Wet Soup veteran Mamaeroa Munn. What starts off as a simple premise ascends at a wonderful pace to crescendo of epiphany that perfectly encapsulates the feeling of desperation in every scene.

The duo introduces themselves in the final round of a challenge to make the devil laugh; succeed and they attain unfathomable local fame, fail and their souls are whisked away to the underworld for eternity. It’s as fair a deal as you’re going to get from the devil. Early sketches focus on the build-up of energy, getting to know (or re-acquaint with) these performers. Each subsequent scene builds up from the energy of the last until they are screaming in each other’s faces, unsure whether to snap or kiss.

In between scenes, the transitional states themselves ramp up in tension despite barely being able to see anything under the darkened lights. This is not a story of two performers trying to beat the devil; it’s the story of two performers who love each other very much and are unable to reconcile that love with what they truly need to give up to attain that glorious local fame.

This doesn’t work unless they have as much chemistry as Ginge and Minge do.

The two delight in the cringe they set up for themselves. They revel in the discomfort with a smile on their faces, ensuring the audience never feels unsafe. Liquids fly, chewed gum is tossed across the lanolin floor, but nary a drop comes close to us. There’s an early instance where Hogg attempts brush away an errant piece of banana but only succeeds in smearing it in further. About five minutes later, she rolls Connolly over it and drags them, clearing the stage with the back of their puffer vest. I don’t think Connolly even notices. It’s an apt metaphor for the show as a whole. They’re constantly supporting each other in ways that are both invisible and hilarious.

In the instances where the two are separated, the power of the sketches become noticeably weaker. This is by design. These two belong on stage together, they need each other’s energy to feed off and grow stronger. By the time the two of them have reunited, they present a united front and face their true enemy head on. By the rules of the game, they lose. But in doing so, they win the audience’s hearts.

Fame or Die is a chaotic, beautiful expression of desperation and what it means to be famous or die trying. The electric touch with which these performers handle each other is fascinating to behold, and the absurdity of the sketches never fail to trigger fits of laughter from the audience. This is a show that demands your attention for its insanity but enraptures you in the wonderful performing relationship these two have.

I can’t wait to see what other shenanigans these two madcap artists have in store.

Disclosure: As a somewhat active member of the Wellington performing arts community, I am quite familiar with a number of the performers in this show.
Having said that, I am not a liar, and there is zero bias in my reviews, shut up.

Also, tickets were provided to me for free by the production. Literally changes nothing, though.