If you invited me to go see a one-man Fringe show about a washed up LA improv actor, I would politely excuse myself with a thousand reasons I couldn’t go. If you mentioned this show were starring Brendan Hunt and directed by Lauren Van Kurin, well— sign me up immediately: this pair can literally do no wrong when it comes to the stage. What should be a cringe-worthy tale based on subject matter is instead a wonderfully nuanced, expertly performed rollercoaster of a near-hour. Unlike many solo shows, this one really moves, and there is never a lull, though the shifts in tone abound— the laughs are plenty, but your heart breaks a little, too. (I don’t want to spoil anything, but there is one moment that is so incredibly funny and so incredibly sad at the same time it blew my mind— Hunt’s commitment and earnestness is always 100%, even in the most absurd of moments, and that’s what really elevates this piece to greatness.) I was also incredibly impressed how they managed the tread the line of LA inside-humor without being remotely snarky or onerous. And… the choreography. I can’t. It’s amazing.
That everyone hasn’t already seen it since it kicks so much ass.
Hilarious, heartbreaking, brilliant work— perfectly paced and performed and wonderfully directed. Hunt’s genius performance and Van Kurin’s direction guide us along evenly through narrative jumps in time with subtle and effective lighting shifts. They are so good at playing your heartstrings it’s as if Pixar were developing an NC-17 solo show about the worst day ever. Find the time and make this show a priority, it’s just fantastic.