. . . and by fake, I mean choreographed. Handler's up there (in full botox rigidity) delivering a lifeless performance and the audience is right there, every step of the way, with laughter. The kind of laughter you'd swear was canned, were it not for their being in a theater. She hits every pause, every emphasis with and the laughs come like clockwork. I don't think I've ever seen a comic doing this so half-assed, yet so on-point, and an audience just eating it up. This isn't a dig at the crowd (no trained monkeys joke here), it just feels like everyone in that theater is in on the joke. What that joke is, I'm still not even sure.
I've never seen this before. Most of the time, the like or dislike of a comedian/enne can be easily pinpointed. They turn you off, you turn the channel. Simple as that. But I just sat there, feeling like I should, but having no idea when to laugh. There was the "live laugh track" to help me, sure, but it still felt like some weird art experiment.
But Handler doesn't dabble in the avant-garde; she's too busy beating the alky-without-boundaries dead horse.
2/10
I've never seen this before. Most of the time, the like or dislike of a comedian/enne can be easily pinpointed. They turn you off, you turn the channel. Simple as that. But I just sat there, feeling like I should, but having no idea when to laugh. There was the "live laugh track" to help me, sure, but it still felt like some weird art experiment.
But Handler doesn't dabble in the avant-garde; she's too busy beating the alky-without-boundaries dead horse.
2/10