Don Rickles came into this world in 1926. Joan Rivers arrived in 1933. In case you were wondering if two comedians who were born before World War II can fill the room at the Seminole Hard Rock, the answer is yes, yes they can. Most of their peers are dead, senile, or retired. Rickles and Rivers are anomalies in the entertainment world, comedic freaks who keep going and going like the Energizer Bunny, but with more wrinkles (in Rickless case, anyway). Somehow, after all these years, theyre still relevant, still razor-sharp, still popular, and still fucking hilarious. Pardon our French, but its true.
Rivers has been doing a version of the same scandalously self-deprecating act since the Summer of Love, and her jokes have aged like wine. Now that she has nipped, tucked, Botoxed, and Restalyned herself into a caricature, she can mock her beauty regime, which seems to come straight out of the script for Death Becomes Her. Rickles is still nasty, mean, and borderline racist, but he offers rich lessons in funny to the Michael Richardses of the world it is possible to be ethnically insulting and still get laughs. Be an equal opportunity offender, and the audience is yours for the dissing. These septuagenarian entertainers will crack you up tonight at 8.
Mon., March 3, 8 p.m., 2008