Gig review by Steve Bennett in Montreal

Philadelphia’s Todd Glass has been a comic for 36 years, but don’t think that’s given him the discipline to produce a tight show, even when put under the industry scrutiny of Just For Laughs.

The performance is loose and chaotic, sometimes self-indulgent, frequently self-referential and tentatively held together by the fact Glass seems to be having such a blast. His writing is a form of anti-comedy, away from the formula of premise and punchline – but with a whole bucket full of vim instead of the cold distance that approach normally fosters.

Glass’s point of difference is having a four-piece band on stage with whom to riff – and who provide ironic rimshots for the cornier punchlines. Traditionally what makes a band laugh and what makes an audience laugh aren’t always the same thing, in the same way a comedians’ comedian can storm with his peers at the back of the room while everyone else is nonplussed. 

Glass can be guilty of that, with an Andy Kinder-like ability to make the show so meta it loses focus on the key gag, though without any of Kindler’s angst. And occasionally the show feels like too much of an in-joke, with loud guffaws only from isolated quarters. He’s got a hit podcast, so maybe it’s fans of that.

But the 54-year-old retains an infectious boyish enthusiasm, and forces even reluctant audience members to appreciate his distinctive comedy rhythms. So a running joke such as the band playing Colonel Bogey behind a stand-up routine, totally destroying the thread even when asked to stop, pays off against the odds.

The musicians creating a chorus of Jerry Seinfelds, all wondering what the deal is, also proves a daftly hilarious skit, as is their mocking of Glass every time he reaches for a bottle of water.

In the spirit of vivacious incompetence that he fosters, he has a crappy improv song in which he feigns a complete inability to ad lib, the contrast between the ebullient sell and the utter incompetence proving hilarious.

As in most of the show, what he’s saying is much less important than the way he’s saying it. The most memorable routine comes towards the end, and has him delivering the droll one-liners of Mitch Hedberg with the rasp of Rodney Dangerfield – again hammered home with a cornball energy – but it’s one of the few times identifiable jokes emerge.

Yet by this point we are won over. His recent Netflix special was called Act Happy, and he certainly takes his own advice, infusing the crowd with a sense of celebration… even if it’s not entirely clear what we are celebrating.

Review date: 28 Jul 2018
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett