Patton Stands Up

By Daniel Suddes

It is hard for me to not revert into fan mode and declare Patton Oswalt’s new material to be the funniest thing I am likely to hear all year. Oswalt has always been a very funny figure, and it has done a much better job strengthening my abdominal muscles than any gym could. However, it is hard to explain why.

Personally, I am not sure how Patton Oswalt has managed to find the levels of success that he has. He is not a physically imposing man in any way (in the entertainment business, looks are often the bottom line), he does not have any major routines or props (almost all comedians these days carry guitars — I think it’s some sort of union rule) and he is not particularly profane (again, union rules).

What he always has been is consistently funny in explaining his own world view. What’s best is that Oswalt’s view seems to speak to a wide variety of people, regardless of their background. He is a hopeless geek, but then so is practically everyone I meet. Better yet, the vast changes in his life (including marriage and fatherhood) have not seemed to change him one iota. In some ways, this is a disadvantage. Most of the material feels recycled to a certain degree. But Oswalt is still one of the best comedians working today.

His most recent show at the 40 Watt Club (where he practiced new material for his upcoming album) had all of his usual fare. He discussed what he feels is the absurdity, but practicality, of religion, his ballooning waist line and the situations his fame his put him in. It caused uproarious laughter — but it also felt like he had been there all before.

For example, one of his new jokes is about how he may claim that the only reason that he may be nice to people is that a group of invisible goblins follows him around and will attack him if he is ever mean. The point is that people who are only nice because of their religious convictions are not really nice people at all. It is certainly a funny, poignant observation — but it is also very similar to a bit in his last album, "My Weakness is Strong," about the “Sky Cake.” It feels like the equivalent of "Seinfeld" telling the waiting room joke for the 50th time — it may still be funny, but I also have the desire for something new.

Still, this did very little to diminish the many highlights of the show. In one of the most memorable moments (one of the few times he tried to move away from the microphone) he discussed how there is no overeaters anonymous heroic figure. He impersonates a Norman Maileresque man who discusses how hard eating caused his family to abandon him. It drew some of the biggest laughs of the evening, and also felt just as edgy as his earlier material.

He also discussed his daughter, and how she will only dance for a limited amount of time because she feels this is normal (rather than just her dad running out of breath). In addition, Oswalt was not afraid to engage the audience, including telling one person to not record him. This actually proved a beautiful segue into another joke (about a man who posted clips of Oswalt on Youtube) and almost seemed planned out. Oswalt is as natural at what he does as Bill Hicks was — that is the source of his success. He does not take the role of an entertainer or a comedian — he is a smart man just trying to carry on a conversation.

The strength of Wednesday’s show was ultimately in Oswalt’s delivery. His new material may not be the strongest. But he still performs it as though it is. This man could spend the rest of his career telling knock knock jokes and he would still be among the greatest comedians of all time. This knowledge means that Oswalt may not be as likely to challenge himself anymore. But he will always be able to draw in the crowds.