Mo Fry Pasic is best known for their amazing sketch comedy work. We caught up with actor Mo Fry Pasic to talk about their new Edinburgh Festival Fringe Show, Worse Than You. You can book tickets for the show here.
STARBURST: How would you pitch Worse Than You to an elderly relative who loves to pretend they’re shocked by rude words?
I would say… Nan… you know how you don’t like that one friend of mine because she talks too much and is always panicking, and you think it’s unbecoming?
Well, this is a play that will help you understand that she’s in pain…and she’s experienced a lot of the same pain you have, even if you don’t give yourself permission to talk about it. My friend has turned it into comedy, even though I know you turned yours into perfection or order. She deals with it very differently than you, but I think you getting to see what she’s been through might help you understand her a little better and also appreciate yourself for how resilient and creative you’ve been in your own healing. Now let’s go grab a bite at The Educated Flea – I Googled good restaurants to take your grandparents in Edinburgh!
And how would you pitch it to someone who is a huge fan of Captain America?
I’m getting chills as I say this… but remember how you felt when Cap lifted Mjölnir? And not that first time when they were all having drinks, and it was like, huh? No, I’m talking THE MOMENT IN ENDGAME. My play is that moment, but it is emotionally drawn out and not like that moment at all. Also, you will see shirtless Chris Evans.
What are the origins of this show?
The origins of the show are that I really wanted to write something. There had been quite a lull in my consistent creative output after the pandemic, and I needed to open that release valve back up. I wanted to put my energy into a project that inspired and challenged me.
I wasn’t feeling excited by writing jokes, and I was overwhelmed by the idea of writing about anything, so thankfully, my dear friend – who happens to be an amazing writer and director – held me accountable and asked me to send her a draft of anything – be it TedTalk, be it script, be it poem, and we would discover together what it would become.
She combed through a lot of starts at premises and ideas and helped me zero in on the story that felt most compelling to be told in this specific play medium. And then we were off to the races, baby!
Why do we dwell on past relationships so much?
I will answer this one with the Rumi poem A Gift to Bring You:
You have no idea how hard I’ve looked for a gift to bring You.
Nothing seemed right.
What’s the point of bringing gold to the goldmine
or water to the ocean?
Everything I came up with was like taking spices to the Orient.
It’s no good giving my heart and my soul
because you already have these.
So I’ve brought you a mirror.
Look at yourself
and remember me.
How much emotional distance is there between yourself and the show?
I always think this is an interesting and common question, considering I deal with deeply personal and traumatic subject matter. There is plenty of emotional distance between myself and the production.
If it succeeds, amazing, I helped people and was affirmed. If it doesn’t, amazing. I helped people and will be off to make something else or perform it in empty rooms for the rest of my life if I feel like it. As far as emotional distance between the actual subject matter and myself, I’m going to be annoying and pedantic because I understand the general idea of the question being like – have you healed enough to tell some of your most volatile pain – and sure!
I feel comfortable sharing this story and in control when the emotions arise, but there will never be emotional distance. I use my art to process and understand my experiences better, so the idea that I need to be clear or understand exactly what I’m doing emotionally 1) isn’t really discovery as I think good acting and writing should be and 2) to me is confusing considering I’m performing TO understand not because I do understand. I can tell I’ve made this answer very muddy, but it’s clear to me lol.
What’s been the hardest part of the production so far?
Taking a bow and thanking people after. I feel naked. It’s awful. As a comedian you can hide or be protected behind sarcasm. As an actor, you’re protected by the character.
As a writer by the page, etc., I wrote this, performed this, and brought myself to this. You can find all of me in it. Whether you think it’s good or not, I really leave everything on the court- my emotions, my heart, my vulnerability.
I give it all cause I love to… but I’m able to feel very private on stage because of all those veils of protection, so then all of a sudden blackout happens – lights back up for a bow, and it’s… oh shoot! You pulled back the green curtain – it’s me, the great and terrible humbug Mo. You’ve revealed it was just me the whole time! And then I gotta just be like, “What’s up y’all! Thanks for comin’! Exit to the left! Wanna grab a drink?” I have thrown up in my mouth before because of it.
What is the most important lesson to learn during rehearsal?
I think you need to release what you think rehearsal should be, i.e. blocking or just acting, getting reps. Sudi and I had sooo many rehearsals where we would feel something was off in a scene and spend the rest of the time rewriting or laughing at dumb stories from our past or maybe just decompressing from the day.
I used to worry I was bad at focusing, but every one of those moments has been so valuable. Sudi is really intuitive as a director so we never got too far off the rails. In fact, her acceptance of, say, exhaustion or one of us having a bad day led to so many creative inspirations in performance and entire scenes we added to the piece. I grew up as an athlete, so I really had to reconfigure my idea of discipline in order for creativity to flow.
What has been the most ridiculous moment so far?
I think Sudi, our producer Lauren, and I kind of expect insanity from the world in a pretty inoffensive way, so nothing really pops out as ridiculous, although I’m sure there have been moments
Why the Edinburgh Fringe?
David Mitchell is one of my biggest comedic inspirations. I started watching Peep Show, That Mitchell and Webb Look, and all the panel shows I could in college, and my goodness, does he talk quite a bit about The Fringe in his autobiography Back Story.
So it’s partly like… value what those who inspire you value, and also it is so exhilarating to perform internationally. I did a play at the Radikal Yung Festival back in 2019 in Munich, and there’s something so exciting about seeing art, comedy, and theatre from people who culturally and emotionally have such vastly different conditions, permissions and values. It’s so freeing.
Also, ‘cause Fringe is the best of the best, and if ya ain’t first, yer last! I know you guys have seen Talladega Nights… this is probably ageing me, not Americanising me!
What’s your next big project after the Fringe has ended?
I really want to go blonde.
Simpsons or Futurama?
FUTURAMA ALL DAY. I can’t believe you asked this. Huge for me. I was JUST the other day telling someone about the Da Vinci episode where, on his home planet, he’s dumb as rocks, but for Earth, he’s smart. Perfection. Also, my name is also Fry, so….there’s that.
Captain America or Batman?
DC has never appealed to me. Now, I know this is controversial, and god forbid they cast me as Wonder Woman – DON’T DO IT! I DON’T WANT TO BE A POWERFUL LEAD IN AN INCREDIBLE AND FRUITFUL FRANCHISE. STOP IT! DC comics has always felt a little off-brand to me. Like… we want Oreos, we don’t want Vanilla Creme Chocolate Sandwich Cookies. I am a huge Marvel head, though. I think they are modern fairy tales. I think, somehow, some of the queerest and most marginalized people’s stories have managed to become mainstream by way of Marvel, and that is nothing short of a miracle.
The Little Mermaid or Lilo & Stitch?
Neither do it for me, although I do a mean Stitch impression. I hear Stitch is on their way to Tweety Bird icon status. Good for them (claiming Stitch for the non-binary community).
Truth or Beauty?
Truth every single time. Beauty without truth is ugly. AND I DON’T MEAN that fillers or makeup or performance of self is not truth. Those can be some of the most truthful people you’ve ever met who have the guts to say, “I want to look different.” Beauty without truth usually looks to me like judgment or comparison. But truth – always truth.
Learn more about the show here. You can find the Worse Than You Show Podcast wherever you find good podcasts, and you can book for Sudi & Mo’s live show here.
