Old School Meets Rude School

There’s something to be said about the romanticism of the old-time comedian. The cufflinks, the coif, the three-piece band, the “ladies and gentlemen” politeness, the warnings to cover the kids’ ears (“earmuffs!”), and timeless jokes about grandmothers and taxes.

Now take the cufflinks, the coif, and the three-piece band. Mix them up with a comedian furiously simulating sex on a barstool. He’s sweating buckets through his wifebeater, a bow tie is undone around his neck, and a spit curl is plastered to his forehead like hobo hat-hair bangs. He looks like Joey Bishop after a three-week bender, humping an invisible dumpster. “Ladies and gentlemen, Guy Richards presents the Bipolar Comedy Tour at the Colony Theatre.”

This Saturday night at 8, the band will be hoppin’, and Richards will saunter out, snapping his fingers and singing a baritone tune. He’ll respectably address the crowd and then tell jokes about diarrhea. You wouldn’t feel tricked if he was wearing a Fila tracksuit and a Casio watch, but that’s not his gig. He’s better than that, and he’s got the boner jokes and cummerbund to prove it.
Sat., April 25, 8 p.m., 2009


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