Self-described "professional asshole" and Mars Truther Louis C.K. kicked off the first of two sold-out shows at Madison Square Garden last night, taking the stage wearing a T-shirt with "Charlie Hebdo" handwritten on it, in solidarity with the victims of the massacre at a satirical newspaper in Paris earlier in the day. C.K. didn't verbally acknowledge the attack, but the T-shirt served as a constant reminder of the darkness that comedians try to dispel with humor, sometimes with sickening consequences.
The show itself was packed with over an hour of all-new material, and revealed a slightly more aggressive and intense side of Louis. His recent stand-up shows have unfolded at a noticeably slower pace, with a bit more breathing room and longer set-ups, while this new hour blazes along like a string of firecrackers. The laughter was almost incessant, and it seemed Louis could do no wrong, even when he was upbraiding the audience for applauding at various moments, like when some thought he was making a "point" about same-sex marriage opponents being babies. He was not making any points about anything, C.K. reminded the crowd, then beat himself up for never being able to let anyone enjoy anything.
The new material features some of the most lewd stuff in his already ribald repertoire, but there's always been something lovable about Louis that makes even the most obscene material palatable. Perhaps it's because it comes from the perspective of a single dad raising two young girls—when he jokes about [spoiler?] American Apparel models leering out at him from ads to brag about stuffing garbage and loose change in various orifices, it's funny because he knows they're coming for his children.
From the sound he makes when he pees to an earnest examination of rat orgasms to that pet dog that hated his guts, this hour finds Louis at the top of his absurd, unflinching game. It's gratifying to watch a performer so self-assured weave together these stories of mortality and sex and parenting and drugs and bats into something surprisingly cohesive, a flowing rhapsody of utter candor about his place in this messed-up society, told with a casual fearlessness that made the "greatest arena in the world" feel almost intimate. There are also giant screens on either side of the stage, which help if you like seeing this professional asshole up close.
Louis C.K. returns to the Garden on January 14th. The show is sold out, and C.K. has taken measures to thwart scalping, so I'd be wary about buying tickets off Stubhub.
