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HOT
TICKETS The
Scrimshaw Brothers' production, Odd Little Men, asks how weird
sketch comedy can get. The initial run of the bizarre comedy was so
popular that BLB brought the brothers back for more. If random situations
and David Lynch-like characters make you laugh then this is your kind
of production. As you laugh yourself silly to their interpretation of
legalized prostitution and a man who can't touch his own butt, you'll
begin wondering what drugs the brothers have been taking to come up
with the idea for this show. With a brand of comedy that's been compared
to such legends as the Kids In The Hall, Odd Little Men is a
tears-leaking-out-of-your-eyes kind of comedy show. Look
Ma No Pants!
Those inventive Scrimshaw Brothers tend to steer comedy into unpredictably
charming directions. Minnesota's
most ludicrous comedy duo is opening a new show. The Scrimshaw Brothers'
latest work is a late night variety show entitled, Look Ma No Pants.
Fresh off their recently acclaimed show at the Bryant-Lake Bowl, the
comedy team is ready to amuse more audiences with their inspired insanity.
But Look Ma No Pants is more than just the two bizarre brothers,
it combines the talents of some of the Twin Cities' best comedic singers
and dancers. The variety show is a great way to get those late night
laughs for cheaper than a movie. Roll
over, Brad Pitt, as Mime Club replaces Fight Club in this lineup of
shtick, skits, dance and improv. The gut wrencher of these loose-limbed
routines is "Comedy in a Nutshell", in which Joseph Scrimshaw plays
an aged but feisty vaudevillian who reveals his funny-man tricks before
the final rim shot can yank him off life's stage. Another highlight
is an interactive routine involving Star Wars vs. Winnie the
Pooh origami, which goes from silly to sublime as the hard-to-please
audience refuses to settle for paper versions of Yoda and Stormtroopers,
demanding instead to see "The Force" folded. The
Scrimshaw Brothers present their always entertaining mix of sketch comedy,
improv, dance and special guests. The night I saw the show included
Star Wars Origami and songs from Dean J. Seal, executive producer of
the Fringe. The sketches are not only funny, they're smart; the improv
is usually great; the dance numbers are an interesting change of pace,
and if you give up your pants, you get in free (three audience members
did the night I was there). You know you're in for a good show when
even the sound/light technician is funny. The Scrimshaw Brothers (Joshua and Joseph) are not card cheats. But you have to watch them all the same. These fellows are funny. In one comedy routine, they tell you about a straight (side) man who is gay. In another, they play naughty and naughtier, going to low places and suggesting things best left for those racy magazine covers that you can see at airports. In all of this, they interpret ground rules to suit their needs, even pulling a pair of switcheroos. Other productions in the Absolute Originals festival of one man shows at Intermedia Arts in Minneapolis feature solo performers doing everything possible to hold your attention and suggest other characters. But Joseph Scrimshaw gave the debut of The Comic Sutra: A One Man Show Starring Joseph Scrimshaw and Three Women. Friday's performance featured Joshua Scrimshaw standing in, sitting in and dying for his ill brother in a loony script about an adoptive mother and her dying father who are desperate to carry on the comedic line. The family members want their little girl to marry a comedian and then quickly breed. Trying to fulfill her family's wishes, Lucy (Megan Nelsen-Odell) the clueless, hapless girl, goes out on serial blind dates with some maladjusted comedians (all played by Scrimshaw). Where a Romeo might pull out a bouquet of flowers, one loser pulls out a microphone and addresses her, sideways, as if she were on the other side of a stadium. With
its alternately surprising and gross-out situations, and its use of
rubber chickens, canes and other classic vaudeville shtick, Comic
Sutra elicits plenty of guffaws. The show could be cut, but considering
that Joshua Scrimshaw stepped in at the last minute for his brother,
it's grossly uproarious. Comedy
is pretty mobile in the Twin Cities. Let us take as an example comedian/storyteller
Ari Hoptman, who has in the past year performed at the Bryant-Lake Bowl,
Intermedia Arts, the Phoenix Playhouse, a Minneapolis church, and Berlin.
One suspects that if there were no venue at all, Hoptman would simply
take a soapbox to Powderhorn Park, stand atop it, and begin shouting
his monologues at passersby. As ambulatory as local comedy may be, however,
there is one venue that the funny stuff keeps coming back to: The Acadia
Café and Cabaret. This place has seen Hoptman onstage twice in the past
few months, as well as providing a monthly home to the subversive
sketch comedy of the Scrimshaw Brothers. Additionally, the Acadia
is the regular haunt of the Brave New Institute-trained Velvet Elvises,
for our money the best local troupe working in the long-form improv
style known as t he Harold.
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