The Argus: fringe_2011_logo_red_thumb Sam Devereaux’s brand new one-man play is about a prisoner. His cell – an overblown state of celebrity. Taking lead from the ultimately tragic tales of Michael Jackson, John Lennon and Elvis Presley, it explored the trappings of fame and the pressures it puts on those who possess it.

Playing an asthmatic, slightly portly singer who owes more than a passing nod to Elvis in the mid-1970s, Devereaux played the unnamed star with a confident swagger that bordered on self-destructive paranoia. As an overbearing manager reels off tour dates with nothing but his 50% cut in mind and a gulf forms between his wife and daughter, he is surrounded by people yet desperately alone.

Pottering about a pokey dressing room filled with pain pills and various tipples before taking to the stage of a Vegas casino, Devereaux’s believable performance was pitch perfect, his accent smoothly moving between Tennessean drawl to strongly sung rhythm ’n’ blues tunes.

An understated talent and love for the harmonica completed his total submersion into the character and his alienation. The wistful bars of the Star Spangled Banner he played reeked with irony – for the star, there is no “land of the free”. Instead, a contract awaits his signature, sentencing him to appear at a Vegas hotel until the end of the decade.

A thoughtful and cautionary tale for our celebrity-obsessed society.