[
{
"name": "500x250 Ad",
"insertPoint": "5",
"component": "15667920",
"parentWrapperClass": "",
"requiredCountToDisplay": "1"
}
]
Awful imagination
“Marcel Lucont: Les Enfants Terribles. A Gameshow for Awful Children.” | Spiegeltent | Sept. 21 | From $25 | All ages
“Kids say the darndest things” is a cliché, which is why, on Marcel Lucont’s stage, kids seem to speak only in Dadaist maxims.
The misanthropic French showman hosts a so-called “game show for awful children,” and indeed, the “winner” is crowned the most awful child in Rochester. He does this in four rounds, then with a final vote. Children in the Spiegeltent audience come to the stage to be asked questions, but they only get points if they get the answer wrong.
Such improvisational comedy works wonders because most of the time, the kids simply aren’t trying to be funny. They just are. When Lucont asked one participant how to spell the word “dog,” she responded with one incorrect, and thus correct, single word: “eyebrow.”
“A surrealist genius!” Lucont retorted. He both means it and doesn’t. Such a reply is part of the bit.
Lucont is the alter ego of English comic Alexis Dubus. This is not a bombshell revelation; in fact, knowing Lucont is a performance makes Dubus’s work all the more impressive. After all, children by and large want to be treated like adults. As Lucont, he offers humorous contempt, which most of the contestants adored.
The panoply of free-associative responses by some participants was enough to inspire. (Q: Where does a pirate live? A: “In windows.”) One round enlisted two children to create a proclamation together using only one word at a time. “Everyone eat floorboards and glass unlimited” was top-tier, yet still not the winner. That’s how fierce the competition was.
Lucont’s talents lie in his commitment to the bit. He doesn’t dumb down the gameplay, even during a round where the objective was making fart sounds. At the end of the program, one child is indeed ordained the most awful of them all.
But for a show that so hilariously and organically captures the glee and madness (and boundless imagination) of childhood, what could be a higher honor? —PATRICK HOSKEN
Laughter for all seasons
“Stand-Up Through the Ages” | School of the Arts: Club SOTA | Sept. 21 | $12 | Ages 18+
The premise of “Stand-Up Through the Ages” is a simple one: comedians from various stages of life perform. Regardless of one’s age, humor is an important part of how we process life.
To their credit, none of the seven stand-up comedians relied on their age as material for a bit. If anything, age was simply a jumping off point, and the performers relied instead on their ability as storytellers to carry them. Charlie Frusci, Kelsey Claire Hagen, Bob Holzwarth, Tori Hosier, Dan Mulcahy, Miriam Zinter and host Phyllis Reed all had a conversational delivery, and their approaches were generally subtle and low-key.
The topics tended to be slice-of-life: Hagen spoke about raising her young daughter. “She was so easy,” she said. “But then she turned 3. Now I’m in an abusive relationship.” Hosier shared how he guessed the IQs of his fellow drivers in order to manage his road rage. Zinter told a relatable story about pulling a muscle in her right buttock when waking up, which provided an unexpectedly sexy moment with her husband when she asked for a message.
Throughout the show, some of the jokes were hacky and dated. There were references to the O.J. Simpson murder trial, the TV show “Survivor,” and Cialis commercials, none of which really landed. The evening closed with a set from Dan Mulcahy, who killed with his absurd story about discovering sea lions in a neighbor’s barn in Buffalo as a child. The collective performance was a mixed bag, with occasional moments that sparkled.
—DANIEL J. KUSHNER
“Marcel Lucont: Les Enfants Terribles. A Gameshow for Awful Children.” | Spiegeltent | Sept. 21 | From $25 | All ages
“Kids say the darndest things” is a cliché, which is why, on Marcel Lucont’s stage, kids seem to speak only in Dadaist maxims.
The misanthropic French showman hosts a so-called “game show for awful children,” and indeed, the “winner” is crowned the most awful child in Rochester. He does this in four rounds, then with a final vote. Children in the Spiegeltent audience come to the stage to be asked questions, but they only get points if they get the answer wrong.
Such improvisational comedy works wonders because most of the time, the kids simply aren’t trying to be funny. They just are. When Lucont asked one participant how to spell the word “dog,” she responded with one incorrect, and thus correct, single word: “eyebrow.”
“A surrealist genius!” Lucont retorted. He both means it and doesn’t. Such a reply is part of the bit.
Lucont is the alter ego of English comic Alexis Dubus. This is not a bombshell revelation; in fact, knowing Lucont is a performance makes Dubus’s work all the more impressive. After all, children by and large want to be treated like adults. As Lucont, he offers humorous contempt, which most of the contestants adored.
The panoply of free-associative responses by some participants was enough to inspire. (Q: Where does a pirate live? A: “In windows.”) One round enlisted two children to create a proclamation together using only one word at a time. “Everyone eat floorboards and glass unlimited” was top-tier, yet still not the winner. That’s how fierce the competition was.
Lucont’s talents lie in his commitment to the bit. He doesn’t dumb down the gameplay, even during a round where the objective was making fart sounds. At the end of the program, one child is indeed ordained the most awful of them all.
But for a show that so hilariously and organically captures the glee and madness (and boundless imagination) of childhood, what could be a higher honor? —PATRICK HOSKEN
Laughter for all seasons
“Stand-Up Through the Ages” | School of the Arts: Club SOTA | Sept. 21 | $12 | Ages 18+
The premise of “Stand-Up Through the Ages” is a simple one: comedians from various stages of life perform. Regardless of one’s age, humor is an important part of how we process life.
To their credit, none of the seven stand-up comedians relied on their age as material for a bit. If anything, age was simply a jumping off point, and the performers relied instead on their ability as storytellers to carry them. Charlie Frusci, Kelsey Claire Hagen, Bob Holzwarth, Tori Hosier, Dan Mulcahy, Miriam Zinter and host Phyllis Reed all had a conversational delivery, and their approaches were generally subtle and low-key.
The topics tended to be slice-of-life: Hagen spoke about raising her young daughter. “She was so easy,” she said. “But then she turned 3. Now I’m in an abusive relationship.” Hosier shared how he guessed the IQs of his fellow drivers in order to manage his road rage. Zinter told a relatable story about pulling a muscle in her right buttock when waking up, which provided an unexpectedly sexy moment with her husband when she asked for a message.
Throughout the show, some of the jokes were hacky and dated. There were references to the O.J. Simpson murder trial, the TV show “Survivor,” and Cialis commercials, none of which really landed. The evening closed with a set from Dan Mulcahy, who killed with his absurd story about discovering sea lions in a neighbor’s barn in Buffalo as a child. The collective performance was a mixed bag, with occasional moments that sparkled.
—DANIEL J. KUSHNER
