COMEDY REVIEW: Steven Wright at the Colonial Theatre

By Clarence Fanto

(PITTSFIELD, Mass., January 25, 2010) — The peals of laughter erupt the moment standup comic Steven Wright shuffles out on stage in his baseball cap with his trademark deadpan expression and flat monotone, all in the service of his surrealistic, absurd observational humor. Bearded now and looking all of his 55 years, Wright delivered a steady stream-of-consciousness, 90-minute monologue before an appreciative, packed house at the Colonial Theatre on Sunday evening. Sample: "Did you sleep well?" "No, I made a couple of mistakes."

Wright, who grew up in Burlington, Mass., burst upon the competitive comedy stage in 1982 with two nearly back-to-back appearances with Johnny Carson on the Tonight show. He's a multimedia performance artist, with two CDs, a long list of movie cameos, occasional TV specials  a recently released DVD, and the mainstay of his career — one-man shows at theaters like the Colonial across the nation. He lists George Carlin and Woody Allen as his role models.

Having seen Wright on and off during the past three decades, I can report that he remains at the top of his game — an acquired taste which many admirers have acquired. My sides ached and my head hurt from non-stop laughter as he prowled the stage, alternating two-liners with brief stories, picking up the guitar twice for witty ditties, and only occasionally resorting to blue humor and obscenities. He does have a nervous verbal tic, however; he often concludes his tales with a standard line such as "the cop started crying" or "the teacher started crying." A minor quibble.

His brand of humor often borders on insanity, as he freely acknowledges. In many respects, he's the Seinfeld of standup — he talks about nothing, yet it seems to be about everything. As a performance artist who paints surrealistic verbal portraits of everyday life, it's not surprising that one of his heroes is the painter Salvador Dali: "I went fishing once with Salvador Dali. He used a dotted line. He caught every other fish."

Every so often, Wright looks knowingly at the audience after delivering a joke as if to say, "We're all in on it, life is absurd, I may seem crazy, but it's all part of the act." Actually, when I interviewed Wright in 1985 for a New York newspaper, I discovered that it's not an act. His routines are ironic vignettes only slightly removed from his real life.

First encounters with Wright's sense of bewilderment at the oddities of everyday life and the quirks of human nature may leave some audience members confused. But for many of us, he's the ultimate comic because his humor is dead serious. Even on the day after listening to and watching Wright, the effects linger. There's something so invigorating, bracing about his take on life that it's hard to avoid the notion that he has discovered clues to the riddles of the human experience that elude the rest of us.

Here are some favorite examples of Wright at his best:

A friend of mine has a trophy wife. Apparently she wasn't first place.

This song doesn't go something like this. It goes exactly like this.

I bought a decaffeinated coffee table. You can't tell the difference.

When I was a kid, I went to my grandfather's funeral and I was thinking about the batteries in my flashlight. My grandfather was lying in a casket, so I told my aunt that maybe he was in the wrong way.

One time I stayed in a hotel, the pool was on the 23rd floor, I couldn't believe how deep it was.

A friend of mine has reverse Tourette's Syndrome. People swear at him for no reason.

I bought one of those deer-alert whistles for driving through the deep woods. But I put it on backwards and when I looked in the rear-view mirror, a herd of deer was chasing me.

A sign at the service station said "Help Wanted - Self Service." So I went in and hired myself, opened the register, took the cash and went home.

The airline reservations clerk asked me, how many are flying? I said, how do I know, it's your plane.

Contributing editor Clarence Fanto reviews music and comedy for Berkshire Living.