Unfiltered, Those Guys | Performing Arts Review | Chicago Reader

Unfiltered, Those Guys 

Sign up for our newsletters Subscribe

UNFILTERED, THOSE GUYS, Six Pack Productions, at ImprovOlympic. What a difference an intermission makes. Whatever the Six Pack Productions cast is taking between the two acts of Unfiltered, Those Guys, it transforms a sophomoric, forgettable sketch-comedy revue into a mildly funny show. The most engaging bits are those that attempt the least. The electric finger work of a high school band conductor who flashes dirty looks at an overbearing percussion section is the show's simplest yet wittiest moment. A scene in which the cast derides one performer's naughty-minded sketch idea is both delightfully self-deprecating and surprisingly mature. And a Barnum-like wrap-up of the evening's running gags ends the show on a high note.

But these bits represent a total of about 20 minutes--and the rest of the show is an amalgam of overworked, underfunny scenes with nearly indistinguishable characters and truckloads of worn jokes: carelessly performed butch drag, fag gags of the variety that assumes homosexuality is hilarious, silly hats, a crass Hitler scene. There's even a mildly retarded, overenunciating character, Mr. Cooney, who elicits easy laughs with his lame, thinly veiled allusions to Ed Grimley.

The energetic cast are good-natured, but their efforts are swallowed up by the third-rate yuks and overblown yarns. Only Matt Chapman stands out, buoyed by an oddball delivery, sharp timing, and the shrewd mug of a young Bob Hope.

--Erik Piepenburg

Comments

Subscribe to this thread:

Add a comment

More by Erik Piepenburg

Agenda Teaser

Performing Arts
Manic Mondays Frances Cocktail Lounge
November 20
Performing Arts
Twice, Thrice, Frice... Silk Road Rising
October 01

Tabbed Event Search

Popular Stories