October 7, 2007
I blame Bill Hicks. And while it might seem unfair to stick him in the first sentence of any stand-up comedy review, I’m happy to say that overall Brendon Burns more than bears the comparison. Still, though, it’s Hicks who pioneered the archetype of the comedian as sage – raging, passionate, confrontational, something more than just funny – into which Burns seems to fit himself, for better or worse.
To be more than funny, you have to be funny first – this was an effortlessly cleared hurdle. While there were some weak patches somewhere in the middle– in particular a bit about a gig in Liverpool which stretched itself close to breaking – there weren’t many points at which laughter couldn’t be heard at all. A professional performer who knew exactly when to unleash the roaring intensity that was his most powerful comedy weapon and when to rein it in, Burns kept the gags coming at regular intervals.
He also produced excellent, life-affirming filth. Certain purse-lipped moralists claim this is a cheap way of getting laughs, but they’re getting it mixed up with crudity - which is a different thing altogether. Worldly, alert to the absurdities of the human body and the crackling rhythms of the profanity with which the English language has been blessed, Burns led us expertly through the gutter and made sure we were looking up most of the time.
He’s definitely a good night out, then, so what remains to be reviewed is that Hicksian surplus we’ve now come to expect. Was he frightening, shocking, thought-provoking? Did he go to the edge of what could be said and return with some deep truths? Well yes, a bit, but not as much as I suspect he’d like. His claim of an overarching theme about the untrustworthiness of feelings as a guide to action never quite convinced – it didn’t seem to connect to much of the act. Despite mentioning his time in rehab, he seemed too wary of finger-wagging to say much about it. He berated dogmatism and bigotry – and us (and himself) for pretending to be guilty of neither – but these days that’s standard fare for a comedian of his ilk.
I don’t want to end negatively – this was pure, excellent stand-up, strong enough to stand up without the support of a message - though in the end, one suspects it might have done just a tiny bit better without one.
To be more than funny, you have to be funny first – this was an effortlessly cleared hurdle. While there were some weak patches somewhere in the middle– in particular a bit about a gig in Liverpool which stretched itself close to breaking – there weren’t many points at which laughter couldn’t be heard at all. A professional performer who knew exactly when to unleash the roaring intensity that was his most powerful comedy weapon and when to rein it in, Burns kept the gags coming at regular intervals.
He also produced excellent, life-affirming filth. Certain purse-lipped moralists claim this is a cheap way of getting laughs, but they’re getting it mixed up with crudity - which is a different thing altogether. Worldly, alert to the absurdities of the human body and the crackling rhythms of the profanity with which the English language has been blessed, Burns led us expertly through the gutter and made sure we were looking up most of the time.
He’s definitely a good night out, then, so what remains to be reviewed is that Hicksian surplus we’ve now come to expect. Was he frightening, shocking, thought-provoking? Did he go to the edge of what could be said and return with some deep truths? Well yes, a bit, but not as much as I suspect he’d like. His claim of an overarching theme about the untrustworthiness of feelings as a guide to action never quite convinced – it didn’t seem to connect to much of the act. Despite mentioning his time in rehab, he seemed too wary of finger-wagging to say much about it. He berated dogmatism and bigotry – and us (and himself) for pretending to be guilty of neither – but these days that’s standard fare for a comedian of his ilk.
I don’t want to end negatively – this was pure, excellent stand-up, strong enough to stand up without the support of a message - though in the end, one suspects it might have done just a tiny bit better without one.