Editor’s note: Some of the top comedians in show business took over San Francisco’s Civic Center for Comedy Central’s second annual Clusterfest last week. A combination of stand-up performances, live music, and special attractions like the traveling Donald J. Trump Presidential Twitter Library brought out the humor-seeking masses. Exercising their First Amendment right to speak freely and to provoke belly laughs at taboo subjects, the comics were right at home in the city that nourished their craft from the early days. Contributor Kristen Gerencher did a whirlwind tour of the Friday night festivities.
Clusterfest sounded too good to miss: An opportunity to see comedians test new material and compare styles, a chance to replace the depressing news cycle with irreverence and wit, all in a city block known for its seriousness of purpose. Outdoor and indoor events competed for attention from a smattering of humanity, from youngsters in hoodies to middle-aged and old folks in business casual or tie-dye shirts. With only three hours to take it all in, my friend and I knew we’d have to be ruthless in our focus.
Navigating our way through secondhand marijuana smoke and food-stand dumplings that cost $28 a dozen(!), we headed to the packed Bill Graham Auditorium for stand-up sets hosted by Jackie Kashian, creator of the Dork Forest podcast. Attendees like us with general admission tickets couldn’t find seats, and spilled onto steps and aisles faster than you can say fire hazard. Resistance was futile as security guards kept shooing us, leaving the downstairs bar the only place to catch the show without interruptions. Correctly sizing up the political climate as left-of-center, the comics unloaded on the Trump administration, but no group was spared as they proceeded to slay sacred cows.
Michael Che, the Saturday Night Live writer and co-host of its “Weekend Update,” observed how white the San Francisco audience appeared, and proceeded to interact with the crowd the most of any performer in the lineup. Che’s spontaneity and unhurried delivery almost made up for a set that was mostly made up of penis jokes. Scrolling on his phone, Che read aloud half-baked ideas for SNL skits, riffing on them to the delight of the crowd. When Che singled out a guy in the front row, who gave his name as Will, the audience roared at Will’s guilty-faced reaction shots on the stage monitors. It was enough to make you wonder if he was a plant.
Maria Bamford, star of Netflix’s “Lady Dynamite” who’s made no secret of her struggle with mental illness, delivered an impressive set of uncomfortable insights, characters, and imitations. She skewered the “ethical competitiveness” of liberals, marveled that she’s been married for four years, and gave a whole new meaning to YIMBY-ism involving sexual role play. Therapists and psych wards also figured into her act: When a starstruck hospital worker tried in a clumsy, HIPAA-redundant way to assure Bamford that she would not reveal her inpatient status, Bamford said she snarled “I’m wearing a gown from the county and green gripper socks that aren’t mine. You tell whoever the fuck you want!”
John Mulaney, looking sharp in a fitted suit, opened by proposing a change to the official seal of San Francisco to depict “a guy going back in to get his jacket.” He professed his hate for Trump, saying “It’s not OK to hate a group, but it’s OK to hate one person.” Mulaney, who recently hosted SNL and wrote for it for five years, had remarkable delivery, musing that the Russia investigation’s potential to take down the president for “complicated espionage” was like Godzilla getting nailed for tax evasion.
Outside on the Colossal stage, “Daily Show” host Trevor Noah expounded on an unfortunate tourist encounter with a Balinese snake. But he was at his best when referencing his mother’s advice when a driver in a pickup truck hurled the N-word his way. Calling the pickup detail “cliché,” Noah recalled the words of his mom, the heroine in his best-selling autobiography Born a Crime, about growing up poor under South African apartheid.
He said his mother, who used to take him to three churches every Sunday despite the threat of violence, told him to take the racial insult, “mix it up with the love of Jesus, and send it back.” San Franciscans may have been jarred to hear epithets so loud and clear at Civic Center that night, but Noah at the mic managed to entertain and educate, taking some of the sting out of the hateful slur by providing insight into his African language for context. It was a fitting reminder that an unexpected punchline or a story’s denouement has the power to open minds to new perspectives. Not a bad take-away in an era that’s long on walls and short on bridges.
Are there events we need to put on our calendar? Let us know in the comments or by email: thefrisc AT gmail.com