REVIEW: Comic Energy goes too far, yet comes up short
Photo | Lauren Seibert
REVIEW: Comic Energy goes too far, yet comes up short
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| Photo | Lauren Seibert |
On paper, it sounds good: A sketch comedy troupe called Comic Energy performs about 14 sequences of rehearsed scenes, improv and music, while guests get a free drink at the bar and a buffet at Karma NightClub in Bustleton. I attended this show on Sat., Nov. 21, and everyone there was extremely welcoming, from the night club staff to the troupe members to the sweet, slightly-above-middle-age audience. So it pains me to say it, but the show was honestly the worst comedy act I've ever seen. I'm still cringing.
I don't know what terrified me more ' the fact that 'music' meant karaoke from the same two people all night in between the acts (singing songs such as Shaggy's 'Angel' and 'Chantilly Lace' by Jerry Lee Lewis); the adolescent and often just plain nasty humor; the overly dramatic acting; or the offensive racial stereotyping.
They covered every offensive subject known to man: racial slurs, farting, diarrhea, drugs ' all utterly lacking a tongue-in-cheek tone that could have perhaps saved it. Let me walk you through a few Comic Energy scenes. In one, troupe member Gia Seta plays an irritating reporter who sticks her microphone in her unfortunate victim's crotch and tries to talk to his 'McNuggets.' In that same scene, further on, a character shouts, 'Don't tase me, bro!' ' a reference likely lost on an audience not of the YouTube generation. In another scene, producer and troupe member James Daly informs us, 'There's three things I like: breasts, thighs and legs. This morning we have a guest. She's not a chicken, she's a chick.' He then proceeds to act out a talk show with troupe member Mary Sack as the special guest, a doctor who feeds crack to mice. At the end, the cracked-out mice (two troupe members wearing antlers) come out and dance.
Another scene involves actor Frank Fral rolling on the floor, eating his own socks and toes, and smearing Vaseline on his rear to hump the ground while the other actors discuss their sex lives in the background. I had to help myself to another drink during this scene. The scariest part is that I believe he was supposed to be either a baby or a mentally handicapped man ' a character role he filled in many scenes to come. Why is it necessary to link either babies or mental handicap to kinky sex? Barely any audience members laughed during this scene, so it would seem that even fans of Comic Energy (several people in the audience had seen them before) found this a bit gross. Most comedy performances involve sex, but it takes more than plain crudity to carry it off.
Troupe member Walter Threadgill brought a slight tinge of humor to the show through the juxtaposition of his tough appearance (big man with earrings) and cheek-splitting grin, along with the silly lines you'd never expect to emerge from his mouth. For instance, he played a man running a TV news show, and, bored with the news, suggests randomly, 'Let's pretend to be monsters!' Later, he plays a doctor who names a couple's baby for them: Herbert Lucifer Minion. This skit goes on far too long, dragging out a story that lacks substance. Along with abrupt, awkward closures to scenes, dragging story lines seemed to be the theme of the night. Threadgill's line about 'six months of online training in a medical school in Mexico' could have saved it, had they based the scene around that concept instead of focusing on the baby's name.
Beyond the loud and obnoxious characters the troupe chose to portray, the continuous sound cues really detracted from the comedy. True comedians don't need them. Farting sounds for about four minutes straight might have a place in some pre-pubescent class skit, but not in an adult comedy show that should appeal to a higher wit. And really, do we need a skit about a date interrupted by bouts of diarrhea? Accompanied by loud groans and culminating in bathroom sex? Watching this, I wished I hadn't had that drink.
During the middle of the show, a guest standup comedian who declared himself 'half-hillbilly, half-Amish' stunned me with 10 minutes of sheer drunken rambling. He even had a bottle in his back pocket from which he paused to take a swig.
As a final straw, the racial slurs made in many Comic Energy scenes were unaccompanied by any sort of self-deprecating humor that serves to show that the stereotyper the comic is playing is truly the one he's lampooning. Instead, a character speaks to Threadgill, who is black, about 'you people"; and the same Threadgill is the only one in a funeral scene to be carrying a gun and a six pack of beer. Even worse, in a separate scene, a couple climbs into a cab with a turban-wearing driver and tells him, 'Oh, we were kinda hoping for a white cab driver.' After several near-collisions, they then say, 'How would your Arabic ass know how to drive?' Wow. The cabbie doesn't even get a rebuttal line. Cleary, Comic Energy, which started 10 years ago and has had members flow in and out since then, needs to reevaluate its material.
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