Feeling Afraid As If Something Terrible Is Going To Happen (Sydney Opera House) ★★★★½

Written by Marcelo Dos Santos. Sydney Opera House. 5-23 Feb, 2025.

Feeling Afraid As If Something Terrible Is Going To Happen is less a play about a stand-up comic than it is a magic show in its own right. Layers of storytelling build upon one another as an unnamed comedian (Samuel Barnett) becomes the most unreliable of narrators. Tragedy… comedy… same thing really.

Dating is awful. Everyone has bad dating stories, and our comedian has some pretty terrible ones involving blood and other bodily fluids. But they make for great material for his stand-up routine. The quirks and perils of dating apps, casual sex, and deep-seated neuroses keep things moving, much like any stand-up comedy show would. Then, he meets the perfect man. He’s too perfect. American, great body, a bit self-serious—but that’s manageable. The catch? The American never laughs at his jokes… this isn’t going to end well.

One-act monologues are a tricky form to master, and for every great one (Suzie Miller’s Prima Facie, Simon Stephens’ Seawall, Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s Fleabag, Dennis Kelly’s Girls & Boys, to name a few recent examples), there are easily a dozen self-indulgent or flawed ones. There’s no room to hide in a monologue; you see the cracks instantly.

Which is why I refer to Feeling Afraid… as a magic show. It manages to do a lot of things you don’t instantly notice while you’re watching it. Dos Santos’ script is tight—really tight. It weaves between observational comedy, deconstruction of stand-up, and psychological relationship drama, all while subtly manipulating you every step of the way. What starts off as a rehearsal for a stand-up routine, full of stops and revisions, gradually evolves into a rom-com. From there, it shifts into dramatic territory, and the ending… well, is it real? Or is the comedian hiding from reality?

The gag rate is deliciously high, with a rapid-fire patter that’s almost hypnotic. Jokes about gay men and relationships are well-worn, but they’re just the opening salvo in a show that ventures into more intriguing territory. While elements of the story are very British-centric (in Australia, we’re not as obsessed with TV comedy panel shows or the nuances of London suburbs), there are nice localised touches (“Tories, or as you confusingly call them, ‘Liberals’…”). It’s clear that Dos Santos knows this world of rising UK comedians intimately. His deconstruction of how stand-up works may not carry the full emotional weight of Hannah Gadsby’s Nanette, but it serves a different purpose here.

Samuel Barnett has always been a talented comedic actor, but this performance takes things up a level, both in terms of the laughs and the sadness lurking beneath. Comedy is harder than drama, sure, but try playing both at the same time—this goes beyond a simple “sad clown.” Barnett walks the tightrope of seeming loose and improvisational, only to shift emotionally with a subtle lighting change. It’s a fantastic performance, skillfully honed. Side-note: I’d love to know what gay comedians think of the show. Write in.

The other standout elements of Feeling Afraid… are the excellently executed technical details. Director Matthew Xia fills the practically bare space with movement and subtle shifts that add resonance as the show progresses. The microphone itself becomes a psychological crutch, while the boundaries of the stage transform into barriers to be broken. Elliot Griggs’ lighting becomes a character in its own right, snapping us between locations and hinting at the emotional tone. Max Pappenheim’s sound design literally takes the air out of the room.

At just under 70 minutes, Feeling Afraid As If Something Terrible Is Going To Happen manages to be multiple things at once, and I believe it would even withstand multiple viewings—I would be keen to rewatch and start to dismantle it further. It speaks to the general creeping fear of modern love, the art and commerce of comedy, the joys and traumas of gayness, and, most excitingly for me, the beauty of theatrical construction. The key is that it doesn’t shove these ideas down your throat; it simply does them while you’re laughing and having a great time. It’s magic.