What I liked
The Perfect Strangers reference.
What I didn't like
It was 50 minutes. It’s advertised as “Five Years.”
False advertising.
My overall impression
I was curious what it would be like to see one of my favorite actors ever NOT playing a role in this, his autobiographical solo show… Would I feel deprived of his unpredictable characterizations? Would I be distracted by a certain TV show’s cultural impact? Worse yet, would I find myself comparing him to the endlessly entertaining fictional incarnations he’s brought to life in the past, and feel maybe…disappointed?
The answer: No no and feck no.
What I received was a thrill ride so hilarious and uncensored that I got a dyed-in-the-wool comedian’s backstage pass to what was essentially a rock show of Europe’s most titillating Mecca of Excess. His tale is one of mad youth, budding local fame, discovery of craft, love and lust…oh yes, LUST – all through an absurdist’s lens. But ALL of it was instantly and infinitely accessible. Suddenly I was in a time machine, getting flashbacks of my own youthful hubris in the late 90s, the inebriated roommates, the unobtainable women, the dance floors conquered by the help of some foreign substance and newly-discovered/wildly-irreverent fashion choices.
Then I realized. THAT’S always been the magic of Brendan Hunt’s work, be that his acting or his writing: he is a brilliant guy who is generous enough to take you along. With an irreverent wink or tossed off aside, you are suddenly a trusted accomplice to his insanity – you are sharing a memory, a moment, an inside joke that stands in a thong warts and all before Eternity and says “fuck yes…MORE” …and regardless of your history with this mad shaman, his craft, or his fame, you will willingly ride shotgun as he takes you screeching blind into the night.
To love this show is to love Brendan Hunt, and yourself, a little bit more.
