Review by Steve Bennett

Although terminally laid-back, Hannibal Buress has the sort of smartarse mouth that frequently gets him in trouble, or occasionally out of it. He instinctively knows when something is bullshit and will happily call people on it – even if they are the cops who ticketed him for the jaywalking in Montreal last year.

He doesn’t rant and rave, but calmly and nonchalantly points out the absurdities, sometimes having a little fun at people’s expense. Not that those Canadian police saw the funny side, but the fine they slapped on him was certainly worth it – if he ever decides to pay it –  as he got a priceless piece of stand-up from the encounter.

His teasing of the officers is typical of the sense of mischief this endearing  Chicago-born New Yorker brings to his stand-up, and indeed his life, not taking anything too seriously – not even, apparently, the car accident his was involved in. He main concern was that he didn’t want to be seen dead with his travelling companions.

For while he’ll mock anything from the sublime – the obvious flaws in the Jesus story – to the frivolous – people who pronounce the word ‘ambulance’ incorrectly – his own choices are not exempt from being questioned in his charmingly self-deprecating way.

What was he thinking when he cack-handedly tried to blag his way into a Vegas show? Why did he drink so much he found himself picking a fight in a London Subway store on his last visit to the UK? Such slip-ups will only give succour to his ‘enemies’, this sweetly deluded invention that motivates him to ensure these fictional nemeses will never get the better of him.

As well as the skilfully written anecdotes that Buress brings to life, he also tackles observational comedy, albeit from a winningly off-centre approach. Thus the merits of scrambled eggs or the stress of needing to shit on a plane are given a levity and importance that don’t match the trivial set-ups, but certainly enhances them, helping build up to inventive punchlines.

Occasionally this quiet man of comedy gets enthused enough to work up an excited mini-rant, but his command of the room is such he doesn’t need such explicit bursts of passion to enliven the classy routines.

Buress’s smooth-talking isn’t confined to the stage, as several of his yarns mention women he picked up on the road, but it’s at the mic he shines. This is a fine follow-up to the show that snagged him a well-deserved nomination for best newcomer last year.

Reviewed at Just For Laughs: Montreal

Review date: 3 Aug 2012
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett