In 2021, Sam Morrison lost his partner, Jonathan, during the COVID pandemic. Searching for a way to survive his grief, Sam turned the unbearable into comedy. The result was SUGAR DADDY: a show that’s part stand-up, part storytelling, and part emotional excavation, both shockingly funny and unexpectedly romantic.
Five years on from its debut, Sugar Daddy has conquered Edinburgh, New York and a North American tour, appeared on Late Night With Seth Meyers and been named a New Face at the 2023 Just for Laughs Festival. The show’s return to London is directed by Amrou Al-Kadhi and features a stellar roster of co-producers, including Billy Porter and Alan Cumming. In an exclusive for QX, Sam sits down to answer our questions about Sugar Daddy‘s welcome return.
Why does comedy feel like the right way to process something like this?
Grief is hilarious to me. I’m willing to bet my gay widow support group is funnier than any comedian you’ve ever seen. My first counselor was also queer in his twenties with a wicked sense of humor, and we laughed as much as we cried. Those conversations were way before I was ready to talk about it on stage, but they inspired the show in many ways.
Grieving is so full of ironies, contradictions, and strong emotions; something we all experience, but rarely talk about. It’s all sorts of the perfect breeding ground for stand-up. But in the beginning, it didn’t feel like that – I didn’t even know if people would laugh at something like this, let alone connect with it. As I learned how audiences responded to my story and how I could navigate their discomfort, it was like this whole other world of comedy opened up. One that people really responded to in a way they never had before.
As for if comedy is the right way to do this, I have no idea. The show itself grapples with this question, and I’m quite upfront: I’m not “good” at dealing with this grief. Beware: comedy will be used to deflect from deep emotional processing. For better or worse, it’s the way I process most everything in my life. I love stand up and storytelling but really I simply have a story to share and am doing so in the way that feels most true to me.
Is this ever a difficult show to perform?
If I’m hungry, then I’m a total bit*ch, otherwise no! There are definitely days when I have to center myself, meditate, and connect to Jonathan, but then once I do, it’s truly joyful to perform. Any opportunity to share Jonathan with people in a real way, live, in person, is precious. I’m often just grateful to get to do it. I miss Jonathan so much, and I feel close to him when I do this show. It’s also not as heavy a show as you might imagine. Yes, I’ll be telling a series of stories relating to grief and diabetes but there’s three and a half ass eating jokes. That’ll make sense.
What do you like most about being able to share your story with a live audience?
It’s the community. There’s usually a point in the hour when everyone gets on the same page – laughing, feeling, reacting the same way. Especially today, I think people really value live shows not just to see the artist but to feel a part of a community. My favorite comedians are a part of the room. I really try to be present, talk to, and react to the audience… it’s a special feeling when they all feel connected to me, but more so with each other.
You talk a lot about the bear community, bodies and sexual preferences that aren’t normative. Was that a conscious decision you made sure to include in the piece?
Welllll (I’m less long winded on stage I swear) yes and no. No, because this is just my story. Sex is a big part of the show. I’m gay, I’m into daddy bears, I met Jonathan at Bear Week. If I were a straight comedian into blondes, I’d probably make jokes about that too. And I kind of have to because the audience comes in with society’s idea of fit, young people as the ideal of beauty. So to tell the story, at least to some extent, I have to challenge that and bring them into how I see the world. But yeah, I love talking about it cause it’s just ridiculous how obsessed our society is with skinny people. It pisses me off, it’s something I care about, and it makes audiences uncomfortable. My sexuality, and the bear community in general, is such a big part of my journey. It took many years to be truly proud of my sexual preferences in all its forms.
Sugar Daddy runs from 5 March – 4 April 2026, at Underbelly Boulevard Soho, 6 Walker’s Court, Soho, London W1F 0BT, United Kingdom.
Prices from £10.00
