Humor me: Tasteless performance invokes sarcastic, bitter review

By: Caitlin Attracta Brennan

Posted: 10/24/05

There's nothing like a good old fashion proposition to begin a night.

"Hey ladies, hey ladies out there. Are you tired, because I want to fuck you," said comedian Nick Kroll.

Tough to hold back, being propositioned by an actor busting out of a sweet crop top and Adidas shorts. Peddling a cheap Argentinean accent, Kroll opened the Upright Citizens Brigade's performance last night in Goldstein Auditorium. Be still, unfettered lust, at least I have a pen in my hand ... a very phallic pen.

The Upright Citizen's Brigade Tour Company, stationed out of Chelsea in New York City, brought six of its actors to Syracuse University. I went to the show alone, which may have been the funniest part of the evening. Thanks friends, at least I had my notepad, supple rectangular pages and a delicate metal spiral - no better companion. Nevertheless, after Kroll's trite sexualized introductory monologue, the remaining troupe groomed the stage with more clichés and offensive "humor."

To begin, the smiley actors asked the audience for a word to shape their performance around. One audience member shouted, "Tomato!" I wish I had a tomato to throw at them. Since they were bombarding us with clichés, why not serve one back?

Despite the poor content, the actors kept the audience engaged with their animated faces and kung-pow energy. During the first act, they drew on our beautiful collegiate imaginations, allowing us to envision two gray chairs as the passenger and driver seat of a car (I imagined a red Kia Sedona). The two were en route to visit the driver's parents. However the passenger had just ingested some bad tomatoes (audience buzz word). With brimming improvisational genius the passenger groaned, suffering from irritable bowel syndrome.

How novel: uncomfortable liquid deification. I want some of those tomatoes; I need an excuse to shit my way out of this piece of crap.

I braced for the second act as the first concluded. Kroll returned to the stage requesting the audience to volunteer another word. I shouted, "Jesus and Dixie Cups;" however, my suggestion was not taken. Come on, Jesus and Dixie Cups are hysterical (no wonder I couldn't get anyone to come with me). Nevertheless "wampum" trumped my divinely funny suggestions.

Kroll basically ignored the wampum suggestion, fumbling through a story about sexually active sheep. The audience went "baaa-listic." I don't get this humor, probably because I have the inability to smile, or maybe because I am frustrated that I have yet to seduce a sheep.

The actors continued reeking upon my epicurean humor palate by indulging the audience with more "bathroom humor." Stop the fecal follies! I went to the bathroom several times today; I wasn't amused during any bathroom trip. The foul smells of the wretched dorm bathroom bothered me. Maybe if I ate some theatrical tomatoes, went on the stage and shit on the comedians, it would be funny.

At this point in the show, I had yet to crack a meager smile, and to continue my negative vibe, the troupe began treading on the ground of terminal illness. Four actors pretended to be having a New Year's party at Kinkos. The boss told his employees he wanted this New Year's to be extra special, because it would be his last. The employees' troubled faces became even more downtrodden when the boss told them he had terminal cancer. At this point I'm literally rolling on the floor laughing, to think, making a joke of cancer! At the end of the sketch, it turns out the boss overreacted to a mole. What a hysterical twist; I hope they jab at AIDS next. I bet they'll get more laughs than the number of starving people in Third World nations. To stop myself from biting my lips off in a dizzying state of humorous euphoria, I put my notepad in my mouth. Ha, cancer. Hahaha.

Alright, I don't get improv comedy. After the show, I spoke with three students involved in Syracuse's comedy troupe, Zamboni Revolution. These students uproariously enjoyed the show.

"They're great, because they start sketches so quickly and creatively. They're able to form patterns," said Daniel Gurewitch, a senior television, radio and film major who has studied with members of the UCB.

I do respect the difficulty of being funny on demand, but I'm not going to laugh about IBS or cancer. I only laugh at really sophisticated things, like farting and writing swear words in ketchup at the dining hall. That's some good humor.