Atlanta Has Second Rate Showcase

By Chantai P. Meadows

Somewhere in Northwest Atlanta, between a package store and a Taco Bell, sits Allure nightclub, where, according to the flier advertising the event, “the nation’s funniest comedians” come to perform every Sunday.

Allure’s weekly spectacle, otherwise known as “The Art of Stand Up," is little more than a parade of local amateur comedians who, despite their sincerest efforts, are not all that funny.

That said, their attempts to be funny were quite entertaining. Watching crowd responses to sub-par performances and even some of the material indirectly provided plenty of laughter throughout the evening.

The unapologetically, "grown & sexy" (code for old and still out there among African Americans) scene set the tone for the evening. The spacious venue was filled with 30 and 40-something-year-old couples. The comfortable over-sized seats situated around the bar housed single men and women sipping the drinks. The plastic card tables in front of the stage filled with anxious regulars looking forward to the night ahead.

Thirty minutes after the show's scheduled start, one of the night’s Emcee’s, Malakai, took the stage exposing the club’s poor sound system and his mediocre routine. After nearly five minutes of uninspired bits about gas prices, fashion trends among the young and Mexican immigrants, he finally introduced the night’s first comedian.

Unfortunately, Malakai’s introduction was indicative of things to come; perpetual tardiness, forgettable material and unoriginality intermixed with painfully awkward performances.

No performance was more awkward or more memorable than that of Kristy, one of the night’s few female comedians.

Initially, Kristy showed promise. Her anecdotes documenting life as a single mother seemed sincere. Stories of her children’s curiosity and disobedience inspired laughter among the crowd and of my own adolescence. Then she entered the realm of the weird where spousal homicide and dismemberment is just “what you get” and mom’s masturbation is fair game for show and tell.

Admittedly, her fantasy about killing her ex-husband was unexpected but relatable. Everyone’s got that guy they hate, right?

The rendition of her mother’s shower masturbation sessions, on the other hand, was just plain wrong. Even if the crowd could ignore her fondling herself with one hand and feigning masturbation using the microphone with the other, the reluctant crowd being forced to supply the soundtrack of “Oh Happy Day” took the experience from wrong to ridiculous.

Although Kristy’s routine begs for revision, her bravery demands recognition. It takes guts to show that level of crazy to a room full of strangers who are laughing at you for all the wrong reasons.

The remainder of the night showcased mostly male comedians who, despite a few moments of promise here and there, were largely disappointing.

At best, their jokes were innovative but crass and at worst, bad imitations of tired gags borrowed from comedic legends such as Red Fox and Richard Pryor.

Nearly every performer that took the stage paid homage to these trail-blazers by muddying their material. Whether it was with a racist joke about Mexicans in America or a recycled anecdote detailing the sexcapades of single men, their tributes honored the greats only by reminding the crowd how much they are missed.

After a few hours of this, all of the routines melted into a continuous rehash of the same topics and themes, all of which were thoroughly void of humor and originality. In sum, it was a night of different names and faces delivering the same sorry stand-up.

Despite the obvious lack of comedic talent evident in the comedians showcased that evening, I enjoyed myself. Even still, I wouldn’t encourage anyone to venture to Allure for Sunday night standup. Surely there’s better things to do in Atlanta.

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.