Cash-strapped queer artist Sugar is desperately seeking a sugar daddy. Enter Richard – he’s tall, gravelly-voiced, sexy in the right light, and an improbably wealthy tech CEO. What could go wrong? This cute, messy, tropey tale borrows proudly from Pretty Woman for a smutty millennial solo cabaret show with a jukebox of crowd-pleasing pop girlie hits.
Born at the Melbourne Fringe, Sugar is written by Ro Bright and performed with heart and exuberance by Tomáš Kantor, who carries off some brilliantly silly prop work. Richard is (of course) a hairy-chested blow-up doll, and one vivid sex scene involves Kantor humping a cello while thumbing out a bassy Chappell Roan cover. High energy, neon-bright and endearingly unsubtle, Sugar deserves a late-night slot and looser audiences, particularly as its plot doesn’t hold up under daylight scrutiny.
The narrative contorts to shoehorn in the songs, which does a disservice to Kantor’s agile voice and committed performance, while big emotional beats about Sugar sacrificing integral parts of their identity feel underdeveloped, hinging on a scene ripped straight from Julia Roberts. Far from a big mistake (huge), but a missed opportunity to add a salty, genuinely earned character arc to counter this show’s flirty, fantastical sugar-high.
Sugar, Assembly Checkpoint, until 24 Aug (not 12, 18), 4.20pm