Roofies in the Mochaccino

I’m at a bit of a loss as to what to say — I’ve already reviewed so many of the pieces that make up this show at the dozens of showcases he’s performed at leading up to the performance.

Much of his comedy hinges on pop-culture references, and there’s a real artfulness to it — there’s a reason that one word will work where another won’t, and it has to do with both the sound that it makes and the image it evokes — there’s a reason “Jim Morrison” is the right joke where “Jimi Hendrix” wouldn’t be. There’s also a surprising sentimentalism here, underneath all of the filthy, filthy jokes, and at least one piece that seems to be played almost totally straight.

Glancing around at his audience numbers, I hope that he’s not on the way to becoming another Dean Hatton — a brilliant, funny, hardworking performer who just can’t seem to get an audience. I’m sincerely baffled — this guy should be a Fringe hit, and I don’t understand why he isn’t. Is it the poetry stigma? Is that all it is? Because that’s pretty lame.


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