But these two guys are amazing.They haven’t slouched since their “What’s that hanging in the air?” my boyfriend asked as we waited for the show to start. “Moisture like that can’t be good for recording.”
The Civic, said to be New Orleans’ oldest theater, acts as the temporary home for high-wattage comedy this weekend, as Comedy Central tapes three one-hour specials starring Steve Rannazzisi, Neal Brennan and Chris D’Elia. Waiting in our seats (comfortable and plush; you’d never guess they’re single folding chairs locked in rows), I took in the surroundings. The walls and molding were pristine white, made pearlescent by the glow of pink and blue lights. The red curtains blazed with color but looked soft to the touch. A man mopped the stage, starting in the semi-circle of lights around the microphone. He mopped, nudged a light into place with his foot, mopped, surveyed, and left the stage. I noticed the floating particles in the light, the haze.
I told Alex, “It’s always like that in the theater.”
The Civic, New Orleans’ oldest theater, under renovationThe Civic Theater, built in 1906, is the oldest playhouse in New Orleans. Watch as historian Jack Stewart and General Manager Gail Varuso describe the past and future of the long-lost gem that is now in the final stages of restoration.
Here’s what I knew to expect at the Steve Rannazzisi taping: dudes. I’m a fan of his crude and masculine FX show “The League.” The original web series “Daddy Knows Best,” co-created by Rannazzisi, Jeff Danis and Ryan O’Neill, also trades in the oh-my-God-I-can’t-believe-that’s-happening-onscreen humor.
Which, when done well, is a real treat. For those of us lucky enough to have a bawdy, witty friend with a real knack for storytelling, Rannazzisi’s humor is cozily familiaOnstage in jeans and a dark shirt, he smiled a lot. He didn’t do much crowd work — he doesn’t have to, after all — but what he did was incredibly effective. He introduced a story about being recognized in public by some very indiscreet fans of “The League” by saying that people shout things at him a lot. Someone from the audience yelled out “Chalupa Batman!” Rannazzisi pointed and said, “Yes! This is the correct venue to shout things like that at me. The newly renovated Civic Theatre will be the backdrop for three upcoming Comedy Central specials, starring Steve Rannazzisi, Neal Brennan and Chris D’Elia.Cate Root
I’m a nervous audience member. Earlier this month at the Moshe Kasher show, the headliner talked to me from onstage. I blushed and smiled a lot and spoke only enough to be polite. The temptation to heckle is tantalizingly real. I feel safer when the comedian shuns, disrespects, and ejects the heckler, Louis CK-style. Of course, that’s a method of dealing with a problem; the magic of Rannazzisi’s stage presence is that his friendliness invites no trespass.
Rannazzisi’s best jokes couldn’t be printed here. But no matter what rude things came out of his mouth, he emitted a boyish, friendly ebullience. He made me laugh, but more than that, he made me like him. I went in not expecting, but prepared for, fratty humor. I shouldn’t have underestimated Rannazzisi or his audience (which, for the record, appeared to be well-dressed, well-behaved, normal people of all ages). Rannazzisi also played off these expectations by telling stories about his experiences with “The League,” and how he’s talked to enough drunk 28-year-olds for the rest of his life.
How easy am I to offend? Well, I like “The League,” but it’s hard to make me laugh at a rape joke. Rannazzisi told one last night. I didn’t laugh. He also told a joke about misogyny. He told lots of jokes and stories about his wife. He always called her “love of my life.” Most of his jokes made me laugh in the exact same way I laugh at “The League” or “Daddy Knows Best.” I was, in turns, shocked, disgusted and delighted. But Rannazzisi’s charm and professionalism made so that I was never offended.
I was talking to a local comedian about a month ago, after another comedy show. He was excited and talking quickly, telling me how everything we just saw is gone. About 80 of us sat in a room, and a show appeared. And when it was over, that was it. It dropped through the floor, and now we just have each other to remember it.
That’s true of last night’s shows, even though Rannazzisi’s special will air on Comedy Central this fall. Several cameras recorded two different performances last night; the footage will be cannibalized to make a new thing. It will be funny, and I will watch it. I will look for myself. But it will be a new thing. Everything we saw last night is gone.