Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

The Creepy Boys are keen to make SLUGS a show about nothing. With so much turmoil in the world, they want to be the equivalent of the ‘swipe-swipe-puppy’ of social media after a long day, steering well away from ‘super-meaningful’ art.

The titular gastropods are the epitome of that nothing, recreated by Sam Kruger and S.E. Grummett (aka Grumms) slithering around in customised sleeping bags, regurgitating their stomach contents. To sick beats that establish the clubby vibe, the pair’s vocoded voices explain the nihilistic premise, aiming to be no more than a chaotic techno party – with puppets 

But never has ‘nothing’ been so visceral. The pair – a real-life couple –  exude a messy, raw sexuality, even before they rasp out lyrics such as ‘oh, put it in me’. Rock-n-roll grime underpins a grungy track about walking around pantless like Donald Duck. And yes, they do demonstrate exactly what that means.

This contains the sharp pivot that turns the nothing into something. As a trans person, everything Grumms does becomes a statement, even if they just want to piss around.

Pandora’s Box has been opened and everything they try from now on – even the super-accessible Pop Song For Everyone – veers into being ‘something’. American gun violence is a persistent theme, especially when the show reaches its most intense moment from an already high starting point.

The show – nominated for the Edinburgh Comedy Award yesterday – is tumultuous, a wild ride through audio-video elements, switching from the surreal to the hard-hitting and back again in a beat. In retrospect, things hold together better than it initially seems, with apparently throwaway ideas returned to with added meaning. Nothing into something again.

Kruger and Grumms have a phenomenal presence, even with their kit on, with their chemistry helping test the limits of what they can get away with. Even in extremis, they have an earnestness, vulnerability and charm that keeps the door open into their pandemonium, which they describe as ‘a little bit niche and mostly gross’. They forgot to mention funny – weirdly funny, but funny nonetheless.

A fantastic soundtrack underpins everything, ranging from the hypnotic repetition of ‘there are no bad ideas’ to an angry, screw-the-system  punk track.

The show hurtles into deconstruction, with the pair considering the nature of art, and especially what on earth they are doing making these esoteric queer-coded shows that are clearly financially unviable and doing nothing to change the world. ‘We’re here to make money, we’re here to get famous,’ goes that punk song, however unlikely a way of going about it this is. 

But the cult duo are changing the lives of those subjected to this wild experience, at least for an hour and probably longer. This unique show will spark ‘Remember that mad show we saw at the Fringe?’ conversations for months to come.

Review date: 21 Aug 2025
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Summerhall