Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

Arguably, nothing justifies breaking up with a suffocating partner quite like them then writing a one-person, musical Fringe show about it. Sophie Santos is painfully aware how needy they come across in this hour. Yet recognising destructive patterns of behaviour and changing them are two very different modes.

Other than Santos and their ex, Lily, there are three main characters in ...Is Codependent, with the non-binary comic's obsessive compulsive disorder the one companion that never seems likely to leave. If there's been a signature sound to this year's Fringe comedy it's Auto-Tune distortion. And Santos deploys the tool to portray their OCD as a demonic, masculine, manipulative frenemy whose best interests often depart from theirs.

It's not the only audio-visual trick at the comic’s disposal either, as in a charming introduction, the American floods the room with stars to relate the joy and deep bond of their three years with Lily, glorying in their co-dependency. There's a minor bump in the road as the pandemic forces them both to quit New York and move in next to Lily's parents in rural Pennsylvania. But when Lily subsequently asks for some time and space apart, it hit Santos like a bolt from the heavens.

Ironically for someone obsessed with recreating patterns and detail, Santos has form in being oblivious to the warning signs that the audience can see coming a mile off thanks to their hopelessly panglossian portrayal of the relationship. Incidentally, the comic only learned of another ex's infidelity at the same time as their hard drug addiction.

Regardless of the wisdom of chucking a huge amount of money they don't have at an online relationship guru, Santos wilfully misinterprets their therapist's advice as a prompt to try to 'win' the break-up. So when the comedian is politely, passive-aggressively told to sling their hook by Lily's mother, it triggers  a path of self-discovery, setting out on a road trip to a new life in Los Angeles.

Thanks to modern technology, Santos can still keep tabs on their ex and project a filtered, more attractive version of their resurgent self online. Yet they can't truly run away from themselves, scaring off a rebound hook-up with their intensity. And slowly, but inevitably falling prey to their OCD.

Retrospectively, Santos suggests they were effectively abandoned by their military father and clung too tightly to their mother, with the strong implication that it was an adolescent need to reimpose control that gave rise to their condition. Which is certainly good for at least one twist in the tale.

Although the staging means that Santos sometimes, unfortunately, obscures the screen when at the Auto-Tune mic, this is a compelling enough account of rejected passion that more than justifies the tech gimmick, as the varied, well-written songs fill out the emotional import of what's otherwise a pretty beat-by-beat, familiar narrative.

Ranging from soft rock to soulful ballad, with OCD handed the latter to put across its side of the story, Santos offers a rather manic energy to underpin the often stagily unhinged performance, elevating it beyond a mere break-up tale.

Happily, Santos has also pursued an unconventional recovery and a refusal to fulfil the trite message of self-love that the show threatens to uphold, sticking the landing as they embrace something darker and more human in its compromise instead.

Review date: 18 Aug 2023
Reviewed by: Jay Richardson
Reviewed at: Underbelly Bristo Square