Back in July, I purchased tickets to last night’s Louis CK show at The Bushnell because The Pilot loves him. Me, I’m not much of a live comedy fan. Don’t worry, the Anti-Couric and The Pilot have already fully mocked me for this. In any case, fast forward to yesterday at about 4 p.m. when my boss happened to mention the show which I completely forgot about. Not being a weeknight night owl, I wasn’t pleased about attending a 9:30 p.m. show, but whatever.
When we got to The Bushnell, it was a cluster of the worst kind — parking was a disaster and I’ve never seen The Mortensen with lines so long just to get up to the Mezzanine (and I’m there for work 3-4 times a month). The majority of the crowd had no idea where they were going, and many were wasted. (For reference, Orchestra is on the ground floor, Mezzanine is up one level and Balcony is way up top in the nosebleeds). This made me wonder if it was going to pleasant or not, and I didn’t have high expectations.
Our seats were good (because I’m good like that), and I had a little pre-show entertainment as the chick next to me scolded and pouted at her penitent boyfriend for leaving her behind downstairs. I couldn’t blame her, but she was about as much in the mood for a comedy show as I was.
The opening act, whose name I can’t remember but it sounded like “Gary Coleman” which totally confused me, was surprisingly hilarious. He managed to bring up Aristotle, Plato, and Gross Domestic Product and have the packed house laughing.I took this as a good sign for the rest of the show.
Then, the man himself came out.
Louis started out with a bit about aging and how his 45 year-old anus was akin to a stretched out drawstring on PJs or a garbage bag of wet leaves that wasn’t tied up. Read: leakage. Talk about cringe worthy and hilarious. He covered everything from how it’s okay to not be svelt, moving into a real, grown up apartment and being mistook for a vagrant to raising children half-time as a divorced parent and the fabulous wonders of being divorced. Mr. CK (?) spent a good deal of time mocking the audience, whose average age was probably 25 with whiny voices, yelling at us about how much we didn’t know…including a detailed account of watching Nixon sob uncontrollably, resign, and fly away in a helicopter and he “has that” and we never will. And hence, we suck.
Overall, it was actually pretty witty and intelligent, often uncomfortable, disdainful and mocking… and completely hysterical.* While the topics are similar to those that most comedians cover (every single one covers either dating or marriage), it didn’t feel trite, but rather creative and original. Totally worth staying up late for, and enduring the clueless drunks while completely sober. Oh, and the cranky girl next to me finally started laughing about 10 minutes in…if that’s not proof of a funny show, I don’t know what is.
*Anti-Couric’s Note: I totally tried to tell her all of this. If I’d had more warning I would have directed her to his stand-up specials on Netflix. Also, I totally have a comedy-crush on that chubby ginger.