Australian Darby James is at the Fringe for the first time with his award-winning show Little Squirt – a one man musical about sperm donation.
Tell us about your show. Why should we go and see it?
Little Squirt is a snappy info-packed one-man-musical comedy about sperm donation. It’s a multi-award-winning queer, heartfelt chronology that follows my morally ambiguous journey through the donation process in Melbourne. I share my story, dressed as a marooned sea man, exploring questions about procreation, with all original songs offering a healthy dose of wordplay and introspection. It’s a show for anyone considering parenthood, contemplating identity, and looking to the future with terror and hope.
What makes you laugh?
Obscure uncanny valley memes makes me laugh, and truly godawful films in the so-bad-they’re-good basket. During covid my dear friend James and I fell into an obsession with the streaming platform Tubi which has all manner of D-grade films, ripe for the picking, perfect for trauma-bonding popcorn movie nights with the gang. Highly recommend.
What three words best describe your performance style – and why?
Earnest, wordy and cheeky. I love a spill-your-guts moment, co-written by rhymezone and a girthy thesaurus. I want to consume internal rhymes, that yummy scansion, a crispy slice of info-dump paired with a relatable giggle-burst.
Do you have nerves about going on stage and how do you cope with them.
I absolutely get nerves going on stage. I’d say it gets more manageable if I do kegels or drink poisonous amounts of water. Can’t be nervous if I’m unconscious and clenched. I think nerves are just a reminder to me that I care about what I’m doing, thatI want to do a good job and make people feel big things.
What’s your idea of a perfect Fringe feast and where will you eat it?
A full plate of cooked breakfast in the morning would be divine for a Fringe feast. We’re talking hash browns, mushrooms, cinnamon buns, you name it. Shove that on my plate and call me baby bear because that sounds just right. They offer a buffet breakfast where I’m staying, and anyone who knows me knows that I will sell my internal organs and family members for a go at a buffet breakfast. Aside from that, I’m eager to sample the pastries at Bakery 101 around the corner from Summerhall.
How will your audience think/feel differently after an hour in your company?
Audiences will ideally leave thinking deeply about existential reproductive questions. In non-ideal scenarios they’ll leave contemplating Ancient Egypt which features in my show zero times.
When did you first realise you were born to be on stage?
I think I was born to be a flying nanny like Mary Poppins, but who am I to submit to destiny? It doesn’t help that I have a fear of umbrellas. I figured the stage would be a reasonable plan B, but don’t cast me in Singing In The Rain, or Annie Get Your Umbrella.
Why do you think Edinburgh Fringe is so important to performers and artists around the world?
Edinburgh Fringe feels like a traumatising and addictive rite of passage for artists who want to tour and meet other wild types. It feels like a place to get discovered, a place to be destroyed, a place where fully grown adults will defecate on an onion in front of strangers and call it art. And are they wrong? Edinburgh is a jar of jelly beans, it’s Tartarus, it’s Wonderland and we’re all mad here.
How do you plan to relax and enjoy the city when you’re not performing.
To relax I’d like to sleep all day in a sensory deprivation tank made of mojito. To enjoy the city I’d like to go frolicking in parks with a picnic basket full of sandwiches. Nourishment soothes me.
Who is your showbiz idol and why.
From my sweet insular bubble, I don’t know that I have an idol; sometimes it’s Sondheim, sometimes it’s Beyonce, sometimes it’s the up and comer at a local small-pub gig. When someone puts their heart and joy into their work, when something resonates through my body, or catches me off guard, that’s what I’m chasing. I don’t think it’s a person, it’s moment to moment.
What is your idea of a perfect Fringe moment?
My idea of a perfect fringe moment would be creatives mingling at the artist bars, everyone screaming “I LOVE YOU”, but we’re holding fistfuls of roast potato.
Little Squirt, Summerhall (Anatomy Lecture Theatre), 19.40, August 1 – 26
