Philly Fringe 2018: Chris Davis’s ‘The Presented’

Indeed, his latest endeavor takes on the Fringe itself, which opens into a larger discussion of what it generally means to create art in a hostile world. Davis sets himself up among the struggling masses of gifted yet underappreciated devisors who toil in relative obscurity, crafting work that pleases many but reaches few. He keeps a day job making popcorn at a movie theater to fund his performing habit, a repetitious task he lustily mimes.

Don’t follow the money?

Davis is a veteran of local and far-flung Fringes, a regular visitor to Edinburgh, from which he just returned prior to these performances. He keenly observes how Fringe culture has changed over time, as “curated” (read: moneyed) pieces occupy the spotlight while the oddball art such festivals were founded to spotlight move farther afield. Davis’s present venue, a converted warehouse deep in Southwest Philly, is literally and figuratively miles away from the tony FringeArts headquarters on Columbus Boulevard.

Throughout the 50-minute work, Davis returns time and again to the idea that true artistry comes through self-determination, an unerring belief in one’s aesthetic vision. He recognizes that great performers don’t work for fame or money, though he concedes overlap between success and talent. He uses Geoff Sobelle, another Fringe darling, as a model of someone who moved from edgy obscurity to heralded accomplishment without sacrificing his artistry. The Presented is at its best when Davis balances the levels of insecurity, desire, and struggle that permeate an artist’s life.

The Spalding Gray of Philly

The monologue occasionally loses steam when Davis offers extended asides that recount his childhood and adolescence in northern California, and despite its relative brevity, an additional 15 minutes or so could probably be shaved from its current running time. But anyone who longs for a true Fringe experience — or who wants to spend some time with a naturally warm and engaging performer — should seek Davis out. A kind of Spalding Gray you’d want to grab a beer with at Dirty Franks, he occupies a space in the Philly theater ecosystem all his own.