The King of More’s Veza is a show that lingers in your mind long after the final thread has been snipped. It’s a performance that invites you to live just 5% more, to lean into the connections that bind us, and to confront the tangled, often messy web of relationships that define our lives. Using yarn as a metaphor for human connection, the show is both whimsical and deeply profound, weaving together the personal, the scientific, and the divine into a tapestry that feels as fragile as it is resilient.
The stage begins as a chaotic sprawl of yarn skeins, a visual representation of the disarray of human relationships. As the show progresses, the audience is drawn into the performance, literally and figuratively. Volunteers are invited to dance with the yarn, embodying the push and pull of connection—how we intertwine, how we strain against one another, and how we sometimes unravel. It’s playful and absurd at first, but as the King of More guides us through a pseudo-scientific exploration of connection—spanning the human, the quantum, and the divine—the metaphor deepens. The yarn becomes a stand-in for the invisible forces that tie us together, forces that are as mysterious as they are undeniable.
The emotional core of the show, however, lies in its unexpected pivot to the personal and the historical. The King of More, a larger-than-life figure with his shimmering shoulder pads and weary, yarn-filled eyes, breaks down to the Bosnian song Tajna Veza (“Secret Strings”). In this moment, the performance transcends its playful exterior and delves into the scars of the Bosnian war 30 years ago. The red thread, once a symbol of connection, becomes a visceral reminder of what happens when those ties are violently severed. The King’s obsession with connection suddenly makes sense—it’s not just about the joy of being intertwined but also the fear of what happens when those threads are forgotten or torn apart. The show becomes a poignant meditation on memory, loss, and the enduring strength of the bonds we share, even when they seem fragile.
There’s a recurring reminder throughout the performance that the yarn is easy to rip, and scissors are available if anyone needs to detangle. Yet, as the King demonstrates, the strings that bind us are not so easily severed. Even when we think we’ve cut ourselves free, the remnants of those connections linger, pulling at us in ways we can’t always see or understand. This tension between fragility and resilience is at the heart of Veza, and it’s what makes the show so compelling.
As an audience member, I felt deeply vulnerable on stage, and that vulnerability didn’t dissipate easily. The experience of being so exposed, of literally holding the threads of connection in my hands, left me unsettled in a way that felt both uncomfortable and necessary. It took time to warm up to that feeling, and even now, I think I need a little more reflection to fully process it. The King of More’s moments of dancing are pure magic—his presence is magnetic, and I found myself wishing for more of his guidance in the choreography. Yet, the unease I felt also felt intentional, a reflection of the show’s exploration of the complexities of human connection.
The improvised nature of the performance adds to its charm, though at times it feels a little too loose. The King of More has a tendency to repeat himself, and the show could benefit from a bit more structure to balance its free-flowing energy. But these moments of repetition also underscore the show’s central theme: connection is messy, imperfect, and often cyclical. We repeat patterns, we stumble, and we try again.
Ultimately, Veza is a lovely, cozy experience that also challenges you to sit with discomfort. It’s a show that reminds us of the beauty and the burden of being tied to one another, and it does so with a rare blend of humor, heart, and haunting poignancy. The King of More invites us to live just 5% more, and by the end of the performance, you might find yourself wanting to take that leap—not just for yourself, but for the threads that connect us all.
Recommended drink: I recommend an Old Fashioned, sweet, bitter and timeless. Cheers to living just 5% more!
Performances of the King of More: Veza have now concluded at the Adelaide Fringe 2025.