Dec. 11--Cameron Esposito is getting married in two days. And filming her first comedy special, which the esteemed Bobcat Goldthwait is directing. Her fiance, Rhea Butcher, is the opener for Esposito's Thursday night performance. The elegant confines of Thalia Hall are packed with fans (both an 8 and a 10:30 p.m. show sold out). And she's in Chicago, her old stomping ground. And hey, it's 60 degrees in December.
Suffice to say, Thursday was a good night to be Cameron Esposito.
"Technically you're at my bachelorette party," she told the audience as she started the night in her even-tempoed, slightly whimsical deadpan, "And it's just the kind of party I like: You paid to hear me talk."
The night started with a self-effacing Goldthwait warming up the audience by giving directorial housekeeping notes (don't look at the cameras, turn off your phones, etc.) and telling a few anecdotes about what it's like to be a comedian who was relevant a few decades ago, with nary a mention of his current sought-after prowess behind the camera (he must love Chicago, he directed Marc Maron's special at The Vic in June).
Next up was Butcher, looking dapper in a tuxedo and red bow tie. "Side note: my name is 'real butcher' in closed caption," she noted dryly, before going into a short set about what dog ownership is like for a lifetime vegetarian.
While the set was solid, her comedy chops were fully proven when the fire alarm went off suddenly in the middle of a joke -- bright flashing lights and an ear-splitting siren. "I'm killing it so much, I'm on fire," she quipped after a brief pause.
As the alarm and lights continued intermittently for several minutes, Butcher adeptly improvised around a screeching, annoying interruption that foiled any attempts at standard joke structure.
Notably, no one in the audience -- or on staff at Thalia Hall -- seemed concerned that there might actually be a conflagration to worry about, which is a bit disconcerting in hindsight. Perhaps no one wanted to lose their seats for the main event.
Enter Esposito.
"I feel like I'm gonna burn the place down tonight," she opened with, after the requisite introduction.
Esposito, whose material frequently -- though not exclusively -- highlights her sexual identity, has been on fire for a number of years, first in Chicago and then in Los Angeles after a 2012 relocation. Boasting two well-received comedy albums, impressive touring and a number of appearances on the late night circuit, a special has long been in the cards.
With a mischievous gleam in her eye and her iconic side mullet (long on one side and short on the other), she slowly paced the stage, punctuating her tension-building, sometimes tremulous line delivery with explosive outbursts.
Throughout the night she hit on a number of hot topics, including gun control (attempting to look more like Linda Hamilton in "Terminator 2" is the only good reason for gun ownership, she asserts), same-sex marriage ("sexuality is not contagious") and the legalization of marijuana (she imagines doctors treating overdose patients as follows: "Do you need music or no music?"). Esposito may frequently preach to her liberal choir, but she manages it with such adamantly playful finesse that it doesn't feel indulgent.
Her most powerful material -- most of which has been heard elsewhere by loyal fans -- centered around the culturally taboo topic of menses, the discussion of which Esposito feels shouldn't be as stigmatized as it is. "Every month is like Wolverine's origin story that we somehow survive" she declared, "And that makes us heroes."
With roughly 90 tight minutes of material in the can (any slight flubs from the early show will easily be supplemented by footage from the late one) Esposito and Butcher are likely going into their nuptials -- an event two years in the making (each woman waiting for the other to "step up and be the wife" and take on planning duties) -- feeling relatively heroic.
Zach Freeman is a freelance critic.
ctc-arts@tribpub.com
