Thanks to people who give me Christmas presents, I got to indulge my huge irrational Chris Kattan crush last weekend, admiring his sweet smile, sexy bod, warm brown eyes, and dormant career from a mere 30 feet away.
A true fan knows that Kattan's strongest mainstream film performance (except for Monkeybone, so I hear) was his supporting role in Undercover Brother and his most irresistible Saturday Night Live character was the horny yet prudish husband Jim Zimmerman to Cheri Oteri's horny yet delicate wife Laura.
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Speaking as a rational person, I know that Lovitz is, of the three, the closest to being a bona fide actor, with 74 released features (including his masterful turn in A League of Their Own) versus Kattan's 35. Even The Ladies Man is better-constructed than A Night at the Roxbury, and Meadows keeps getting TV shows. (So does Lovitz, if you count being able to see straight-to-syndication Mr. Box Office episodes in the middle of Sunday nights on the CW.)
Despite his repulsive grossness, vicious demeanor, and ability to score senior discounts nationwide, Lovitz is obviously the audience favorite and wraps up his set with virtuoso piano-playing and comic songs delivered in a really lovely voice, unaffected by a sore throat that plagued him during his earlier really disgusting monologue. Shoot, I've always found him funny, so I get it.
The evening contributed to analysis of My Problem with Comedy, which I include only because it might be Your Problem as Well. Not only are comedians performers with a mysterious and easily disrupted process, which makes watching them sometimes unpleasant if not disturbing, I now realize they're boundlessly insecure, especially the male ones, who will say almost anything to try to convince each other that, for example, they aren't gay (even if they aren't, and even if we don't care). It can be, verbally, a really violent and kind of incestuous game.
This was probably obvious to a lot of you already. And maybe it works better on male audiences. I was less offended than merely baffled. Meanwhile, I was one of perhaps only a handful of people who enjoyed Kattan's brief opening performance, which consisted of storytelling more than jokes. I liked hearing about his being shot down by gorgeous movie-star SNL hosts and thinking, "That's okay; we're still doing a Mr. Peepers sketch and I'm going to put my balls in your face."
Meadows delivered a very solid, sweaty chunk of old-fashioned stand-up, including the observation that if you find yourself in a nice part of Detroit, you're in Chicago. He offered to take spare weed off our hands after the show, and Kattan offered oral sex for money, but the parking lot was nearly empty when I got to my car (because I'm mobility-impaired, not because Kattan was pleasuring me), and the same sad five fans were still hovering outside the stage door. The tall, skinny blondes who stood like a flock of sheep near the proscenium post-show probably did better.
According to "Fan Reviews" on Ticketmaster, the Effingham, Illinois, venue on this tour offered pre-show refunds to ticketholders who had second thoughts about attending. Ouch. One fan preferred Meadows to Kattan at least partially because the former wore dress slacks, coat, and tie. Harsh. This whole thing might go over better on the East Coast leg. A final shout to the fair-size crowd that did make it to the Chandler show: Moulin Rouge!
Though the Valley enjoyed this particular bill of standup for one night only, Friday, March 1, at Chandler Center for the Arts, Chris Kattan, Tim Meadows, and Jon Lovitz continue their tour of one-night engagements in other cities you may find of interest:
- Alexandria, Virginia, Thursday, April 4
- Huntington, New York, Friday, April 5
- Rahway, New Jersey, Saturday, April 6
Lovitz is also scheduled to tear up the evenings of March 22 and 23 as a solo act in San Francisco.
Crip Tip of the, oh, let's just say Year: It's been a while since I've come by any useful new information about the accessibility of Valley entertainment venues. But not only had I not been to Chandler Center for the Arts in who knows how long, one of the ushers told me that the railings along the aisles are from a recent remodel. Sometimes all that keeps you out of the less accessible seats is the lack of something to hold on to as you climb steps, so this is major. Also, the steps are only about three inches high and broad enough for a walker.
Here's the real skinny, though: The parking that's closest to the accessible seating in the front row or two is the crappy-looking high school parking lot behind the Center, far from the pretty designated spaces on the front side. Go back there and grab a spot near the stage door, then roll, stroll, or limp east along the left side of the building (there are signs to follow), and you'll be at your entrance and your seat in almost no time. Hallelujah!
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