DC is a long-time contributor to the MCB.
She can be reached at DC.in.Detroit [at] gmail.com
She can be reached at DC.in.Detroit [at] gmail.com
Neil Hamburger brought his... unique comedy gag to the Crofoot in Pontiac last night, April 25. Going to show a like this one is like being in on a joke (that maybe you didn't know you were in on).
Before he came to town, I wasn't familiar with Neil Hamburger, so I did what any postmodern woman would do -- looked him up on YouTube. The clips I saw were interesting and certainly distinctive, but funny? I was prepared for the awkwardness inherent in the show, and as described by his press ("Hamburger's pacing is off, constantly clears his throat, and most of his jokes fail"). Once he got started though, I was not prepared to laugh as hard as I did.
Neil Hamburger is a construct to be sure, created by Gregg Turkington as an "anti-comedian" somewhere in the 1990s, but at the heart of the act is jokes -- honest to dog, setup/punchline jokes. No fabricated family tales or stale/cynical "men are so-n-so and women are such-n-such," just jokes. Granted, they're some of the most meanspirited jokes you could imagine ("What is the difference between Courtney Love and the American flag? It would be wrong to piss on the American flag!"), and I swear he did 15 minutes just on the Red Hot Chili Peppers and their love affair with heroin, but I gotta say... I laughed. And not ironically, like the novelty facial-hair wearing idiot next to me who guffawed at every SET UP before even getting to the funny, no not like that jackass. Although, to be fair, even if the jokes don't get you, Hamburger's delivery probably will.
I'm a big fan of live/standup comedy, and even the good ones get predictable. Neil Hamburger had more consistently unexpected punchlines than most I've seen. It's a whole... experience, to be sure.
And speaking of surprises, I made it to the show* in time to see one of NH's openers, JP Incorporated, and his cavalcade of TV theme songs. This sort of tailor-made-for-adult-swim comedy can be pretty hit or miss, but JP Incorporated's multimedia extravaganza was a full-on hit. Try to imagine this was an enthusiastically cheesy jingle-singer (complete with terrible grey wig and beard) working it live in the foreground.
Before he came to town, I wasn't familiar with Neil Hamburger, so I did what any postmodern woman would do -- looked him up on YouTube. The clips I saw were interesting and certainly distinctive, but funny? I was prepared for the awkwardness inherent in the show, and as described by his press ("Hamburger's pacing is off, constantly clears his throat, and most of his jokes fail"). Once he got started though, I was not prepared to laugh as hard as I did.
Neil Hamburger is a construct to be sure, created by Gregg Turkington as an "anti-comedian" somewhere in the 1990s, but at the heart of the act is jokes -- honest to dog, setup/punchline jokes. No fabricated family tales or stale/cynical "men are so-n-so and women are such-n-such," just jokes. Granted, they're some of the most meanspirited jokes you could imagine ("What is the difference between Courtney Love and the American flag? It would be wrong to piss on the American flag!"), and I swear he did 15 minutes just on the Red Hot Chili Peppers and their love affair with heroin, but I gotta say... I laughed. And not ironically, like the novelty facial-hair wearing idiot next to me who guffawed at every SET UP before even getting to the funny, no not like that jackass. Although, to be fair, even if the jokes don't get you, Hamburger's delivery probably will.
I'm a big fan of live/standup comedy, and even the good ones get predictable. Neil Hamburger had more consistently unexpected punchlines than most I've seen. It's a whole... experience, to be sure.
And speaking of surprises, I made it to the show* in time to see one of NH's openers, JP Incorporated, and his cavalcade of TV theme songs. This sort of tailor-made-for-adult-swim comedy can be pretty hit or miss, but JP Incorporated's multimedia extravaganza was a full-on hit. Try to imagine this was an enthusiastically cheesy jingle-singer (complete with terrible grey wig and beard) working it live in the foreground.
*Aside to the management of the Crofoot complex: That building is hard enough to navigate as it is. Try putting up some signs. And when you've moved a show from one where-the-fuck-is-it location to THE BUILDING ACROSS THE STREET, you should definitely consider putting up a note somewhere. You have a website -- a website I checked before leaving the house for the show -- maybe you could try using that, too.
