Review on the fly:
#mnfringe show 2 - Stage Presents - Wells Farnham takes the stage and doesn't let it go for 3 manic comedic stories that are real stemwinders and a 4th that is *so* close to sticking the landing; challenging himself on several fronts and upping his game in the process; great fun - 4.5 stars
Wells Farnham chose to challenge himself on a number of fronts for his new solo show “Stage Presents,” and even though he didn’t really need to, one can’t help but appreciate the effort involved. Farnham’s work really did fall into the “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” category. Well-written solo shows that are also funny and (dare I use the word?) poignant are in short supply and Wells’ show last year “I Have Griefances” was all three. Solo shows that are well-performed are also rare, and Farnham had that down as well.
“Speaking of farts…”
But the idea that it is somehow “more professional” to fully memorize one’s script rather than perform with a script on a music stand as reminder and backup is belied by a long tradition of storytellers in the Fringe doing the latter. I’ll admit the first time I saw it back in the day, it took some getting used to. But I’m long past being hung up on that. So, Farnham didn’t need to memorize his show this time, but he did, and it came off without a hitch. Now, did this allow him to also be more expansive in this use of the space and move around a lot more than he has in the past? Yes, so I can see the bonuses involved in not tying yourself to a single position and a script outside the one in your head.
“Doing a proper theater show is doing something that scares the shit out of me.”
A bare stage is a common Fringe environment, often because artists only get ten minutes to load in and then later load out their show, so elaborate sets (or any sets at all) are a challenge folks often don’t want to add onto their checklist. Last time, bare stage it was. This time, Wells had enormous cardboard boxes painted as if they’d been colorfully gift-wrapped. This pile of “stage presents” served as both a backdrop, and a place to obscure the items for the performer’s closing stunt, so it was a good use of the convention, not merely decorative.
“Turns out, cartwheels are a perishable skillset.”
Last time, Farnham had a singular story (his extended family’s darkly comic recurrent encounters with various forms of cancer in a very compressed period of time) with a lot of related tangents as each family member’s illness and treatment progressed. This year, it’s a set of four stories - a workplace accident I won’t spoil, the perils of trying to date someone who has, shall we say, friends who aren’t entirely human; the challenge of watching someone else’s kid if you’ve inconveniently just gotten high right before being asked, and the significance of a bootleg recording of a Crowded House cover of the Creedence Clearwater Revival song “Born on the Bayou.” These stories don’t seem to have much in common with one another, but Farnham does have them connecting and building on one another until almost the very end of the show.
“I recently forgot how to spell the word ‘upon’.”
The very end is related to the last way in which Wells is setting an additional challenge for himself, and while I don’t want to spoil it, I do also want to give him credit for the attempt. I’ll just say that I know from personal experience that there are few things more terrifying than trying to sing and play a musical instrument onstage when it isn’t something that is second nature and comes easily to you. (I have spectacularly f**ked that up myself in recent, painful, memory.) The fact that Wells tackles this challenge and is able to pull it off, even in the moments when the instrument is not exactly cooperating, was very impressive to me.
“75 percent of my plan was unaccounted for.”
The thing I don’t think quite works is the use of the song “Born on the Bayou.” The song is clearly very significant to Farnham, and he tries to convey that in the context of the story. But it doesn’t quite land. And the song is a strange choice at the moment in the play when you’re trying to tie the whole of the performance together. Even though the performance of the song is the last metaphorical cliff for the artist to jump off of in this show, it doesn’t feel like a climax in the same way the end to the other stories do. Almost as if the segments might work better in a different order?
“Writing, editing, revising… writing, editing, revising…”
But they aren’t my stories, so what do I know? I admire the degree of difficulty that Wells threw down for himself here, to push his storytelling and stagecraft to another level. And I think he’s largely been successful at meeting those additional challenges he set up. It is hard to top the storytelling goldmine of a fractious family’s encounters with the healthcare system and mortality that he had last year. The first three stories are all solid and very funny. And the last one wasn’t bad, it just left me scratching my head a bit. Three quarters of a great show is a lot more than most folks in the Fringe can pull off, so if you want some laughs and a tale well told, you should check out “Stage Presents.”
4.5 Stars, Very Highly Recommended
You can find reviews of other shows in these links to my listings of 5 and 4.5 Star Shows (VERY Highly Recommended) and 4 and 3.5 Star Shows (Highly Recommended). Here's a link to a list of all the coverage of returning favorite artists from past pre-Fringe Top 20 lists of mine that are part of this year's Minnesota Fringe Festival. And here's links to the 2026 versions of my pre-Fringe Top 10 list and Top 11 through 20 for the 2026 festival.
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