Seems like this year’s Fringe had a huge number of one person shows. Probably no more than usual but I seem to have seen more of them this year, with Nephew of the Universe one of the last. It had nearly all the ingredients of a good such—humor, a sense of a personal arc and lessons learned, an interesting backstory. But I did not feel sucked into this story, and maybe the reason was one of scale. This story tells of a kid brought into a “religious group” (some say cult) and his eventual leaving said group as an adult. There’s a lot to cover in this, and we get lots of interesting details, yet they don’t form a cohesive whole. Too many elements are left dangling or barely touched upon, and so we get a shotgun effect. Sometimes the result proves moving, like when he speaks with his good friend Carlos Santana for the very last time or what happens when he allows his current girlfriend to simply hug him, show physical affection. But the whole thing proves so sprawling it interferes with my own attempts to step into his shoes and walk his life.