Well, what the hell. I had nothing better to do with my Friday night.
So I walked into the basement of 34 Elgin Street just after the emcee had started warming up the crowd. I have actually never been to a live stand-up show before, so I didn't know what to expect. I just happen to think I know what's funny and what's not.
So the emcee started by making random comments, like "Who here is from Canada? Singapore?" etc. and then picking on those people. It happened to be July 4th so there were plenty of America/Independence Day jokes.
I know, so original.
This guy had a shaved head and for some reason looked like an Asian Kanye West doppelganger to me. He obviously spoke English well, but sometimes he would trip over his own words like a fob. Which fucked up his delivery and timing. Maybe he was trying too hard to be funny. Because he kept making gay jokes. And after the 5th or 15th gay joke it was decidedly unfunny. There was also this atmosphere in the room of awkward pauses and forced transitions.
My expectations dropped precipitously. Finally he announced the first act (a white guy, also hairless, wearing a t-shirt that said "Do Not Copy Me"). Could the night get any less funny?
Fortunately this guy was actually kind of funny. The pauses and contrived transitions still abounded, but he managed to make some pretty clever jokes about Hong Kong life and Chinese culture that actually made me laugh out loud and wonder how he could have such insight into the Asian experience. I hope the jokes were originals.
I applauded. The emcee announced the next comedian. Make that comedienne, a female. I was actually looking forward to this. My expectations mounted.
Then they were dashed, dashed to the ground and broken into splintered shards with a crowbar like Tonya Harding's podium dreams.
This woman was the worst thing I had ever heard.
Listen, I know you might think I'm being harsh but let me tell you something. I REALLY wanted to like her. I'm all about empowering women. I decry the paucity of female comedians and blame it on the unjust patriarchical hierarchy of society. Just think, how many female comedians can you name off the top of your head? Ellen DeGeneres, Margaret Cho, Tina Fey. Maybe Rosie O'Donnell before she went crazy. Slim pickings, I know. (And how come most of them are lezzies, or derive some kind of novelty comedic value from being lezzie?)
This woman was also unexpected, because she was very British, much older than everybody else (including the audience!), and had the female equivalent of a buzz cut. She was so bad that after the unoriginal penis joke and complaining that no one would sleep with her, she took out a piece of green plastic decorative sushi grass as a prop.
Nothing could be worse than that, I thought to myself when she relinquished the mike. I didn't know if it was a reassuring or frightening thought. I resigned myself to a night of hairless humorless stand-up.
But the next guy was pretty funny. He was a really gaunt-looking hapa--with hair--who derived most of his humor from pointing out that he was hapa, divulging that his mother is white and his dad Asian, marveling at how that was the reverse of the norm, and then making interracial relationship hierarchy jokes because he could get away with it.
Then the emcee announced the next performer, the first actual Asian comedian of the program. We are on an island of 7 million Asians after all, I would hope at least 1 comedian in Hong Kong's only comedy club is Asian. (No, the emcee didn't count.)
"VinceMatthewChung," the emcee proclaimed.
Vince Matthew Chung? What is this? Is his name Vince or Matthew? Is it hyphenated? Is Vince Matthew acceptable as a first name, like Mary Jane or Juan Diego? Are we back to the days of requisite-triple-name entertainers a la Sarah Michelle Gellar and Jennifer Love Hewitt?
After the initial confusion and a few laughs, I decided, this guy could be legit. The world is hard enough as it is for Asian men.
He was charismatic, somewhat maudlin (enough to seem gay but not overdoing it), knew how to commit. Off to a good start.
When it became clear that size (of you-know-what) and height of Asian men were the dominant themes of his skit, I wondered if he could bring it above the level of bathroom humor after all.
"Fellas, that porcelain is cold," he declared of the height-challenging difficulty of using urinals made for Westerners.
Maybe, or maybe not--but that was still pretty funny.
Then, the finale. Winner of last year's first annual Hong Kong comedy festival. "The funniest man in Hong Kong!" the emcee shouted. Over non-deafening applause.
I was skeptical about his promises. He had called the British woman "a very funny lady." Was he oblivious, or trying to convince himself too?
The alleged funniest man in Hong Kong was very funny after all. Of the albeit amateur lineup, he had the best timing, was the most comfortable performer, and was the most consistent with rolling out good jokes. He was also Indian. And allegedly could speak fluent Cantonese and be funny in that language too.
I looked him up on YouTube later. Sure enough, he could do a stand-up act completely in Cantonese. (Search "Vivek Mahbubani" if you're interested or bored.)
So, the funniest person on an island city-state of 7 million Chinese people is a non-Chinese South Asian guy who speaks much better Chinese than I do.
That, and how much the British woman sucked, was the biggest surprise of the night to me.
*Hanging out with Vince Matthew, Jules, and some cool Singaporeans in Soho after the show. I told VMC that I have toyed with the idea of pursuing comedy more seriously, and commented on the dearth of female comedians. He encouraged me to do it. "You would stand out. In stand up."Maybe if being a full-time environmental economist/urban planner and part-time blogger doesn't pan out.
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