You might have heard I’m controversial, Reginald D Hunter tells his audience, by way of an introduction to this new touring show. All that means, he says, is that he uses the N-word. And yet, later on, he’s humblebragging about his supposed inability to crack “light, easy” gags. The Hunter brand is joking where others fear to joke, and he’s determined to tell you about it – as opposed to demonstrate it, which happens a little less frequently.
Perhaps it comes down to how you interpret “controversial”. Is it controversial for a celebrated, middle-aged straight male comedian to spend five minutes ridiculing transgender females? Well, yes, some people might take offence. But it’s also highly orthodox, given that Hunter’s colleagues Ricky Gervais and Dave Chappelle have both done the same in recent shows. It’ll be a surprise the next time I see a celebrated, middle-aged straight male comic who leaves transgender people alone.
I’m not saying gender fluidity isn’t a legitimate topic for comedy, just that calling his male-to-female trans friend an “ugly woman” doesn’t make for a novel or insightful approach. You might even call it “easy”. The same goes for the mild British stereotypes that kick off the show, when Hunter advises his adopted compatriots that we’re committed to fair play, deeply repressed and not all that hostile to the black people in our midst – being too busy hating the other nationalities that comprise our disunited kingdom.
If that’s basically flattery disguised as comedy, it pootles along entertainingly enough – as does a meandering central anecdote about Reg’s recent forays into the publishing industry (“Black man! What are you doing here!”). That one devolves into a story about an adulterous gay three-way; later, Hunter expounds on his experiences spanking submissive women – whose ranks, he tells us, are growing. In both instances, he plays the wide-eyed innocent marvelling at humanity in its kinky eccentricity – and there’s a droll recurring gag about his fear of white women dying on his watch.
Droll is about as funny as it gets here, though, in a set that’s over in 55 minutes flat (not including support act Glenn Wool). Even within that short span, there’s padding, as when Hunter polls the audience’s political leanings for no reason; or with an incongruous and over-earnest rant, leaving jokes in its slipstream, about the posthumous exploitation of the novelist Harper Lee. A closing section about Angela Merkel’s twisted alter ego is diverting enough, if you can get over Hunter’s odd assertion that Merkel is analogous to pre-scandal Bill Cosby.
In short, this isn’t Hunter at his most ambitious, as he more or less acknowledges with his final line: “My name’s Reginald D Hunter and I think I’ve fulfilled my contractual obligations.” Well, yes – he’s a charismatic performer and he’s said a few funny things. But at his best, Hunter roots away at life until striking new perspectives are unearthed. And that seldom happens here.
• At Shanklin theatre, Isle of Wight, 10 May. Box office: 01983 868000. At Assembly Hall theatre, Tunbridge Wells, 11 May. Box office: 01892 530613. Then touring.
