Editor’s Note: Sometimes, you may find yourself scrolling through whatever streaming service you subscribe to, and you come across a comedy special from an artist you may or may not be familiar with. Inevitably, the first question you ask yourself as you contemplate your next move will most likely be ‘Is this something worth an hour that I can’t get back?’ — and we are here to help you shuffle through the latest and greatest comedy releases to make sure that hour and change is well spent. Welcome to The ReVue Stage. Here in the latest little corner carved out in Vanyaland’s comedy coverage, not only will you find reviews and recaps of what we feel are the best stand-up specials to recently hit the scene, but also thoughts on any brand spankin’ new comedy albums, and hell, when we feel like leaving the house for a minute, we’ll even do the damn thing at live stand-up shows around the area. It’s all killer no filler around these parts, comrade. So kick back and let us help you figure out your next chuckle.
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All too often, the idea of “this may offend some people” in comedy gets immediately dissected in a political or social context, but in terms of Dan Cummins’ newest special Trying To Be Better, there’s no political agenda to be had. Quite frankly, it seems as though he feels we’re all a little crazy, himself included, and he’s back to help us try and figure it all out together.
From the very minute he hits the stage in front a packed house in Minneapolis, the Idaho-based comedy vet pulls no punches and dishes his quick-draw and well-crafted judgments on every part of the spectrum, with a vibrant focus on the extremism of modern day movements and ideologies. “Trust pharma” folks? Fuck you. Anti-vax and Bill Gates conspiracy theorists? Fuck you. Anarchists, and ancient religious politicians like Governor Greg Abbott? Fuck you too. And that’s just in the first few minutes.
As shown while the rest of the hour unfolds, Cummins holds a much longer list of call-outs, from holocaust deniers and e-girl obsessed incels to sea turtles and barn owls, like a slightly unhinged, tattooed Santa Claus who delivers gift after gift of delightfully in-the-middle perspective, but not in the sense of being lukewarm or wishy-washy. He is steadfast in calling bullshit on a laundry list of topics, while injecting his swiftly sharp comedy into his own solutions and suggestions, including an invigorating story of the fictional death of his brother, Dick B. Cummins to illustrate the arguments for and against hunting.
To anyone unfamiliar with his style and delivery, Cummins may come across as bitter or maybe apathetic at times. However, nestled not so far from the surface as he weaves through a tapestry of chaos is a vital message of unity, clearly and colorfully stated with his closing tale of a vehicular tyrant he refers to as something of a “perseverance fairy,” to just keep pushing through the bad shit while you still work to figure it out.
Overall, there are a lot of elements that are built into this hour, but one that is glowing shines on his very first point, and that is the proof that “offensive” comedy can be endearing while holding some cold truths and hard pills to swallow is as evident as it ever has been in the comedy of Dan Cummins, and he’s making it look easy to share that message. Perhaps we just need to listen a little bit better sometimes.
Rest in peace, Richard Bartholomew Cummins. The deer can’t get ya now.