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AMANDA BROOKE PERRIN: AKA RANDY (independent). amandabrookeperrin.com. Rating: NNNNAmanda Brooke Perrin has one of the most likeable, finely honed personas.
AMANDA BROOKE PERRIN: AKA RANDY (independent). amandabrookeperrin.com. Rating: NNNN
Amanda Brooke Perrin has one of the most likeable, finely honed personas of any stand-up in the city. With her prominent glasses and unassuming demeanour, she admits that she looks like she was born in a library or could be that “camp counsellor who’s also your aunt.”
On her stellar first album, Brooke Perrin brilliantly deconstructs that image. She might look meek, but she’s completely confident behind the microphone. She gets the last laugh, and yet there’s nothing defensive or threatening about her act. We’re having as much fun as she is.
In fact we’re on her side throughout, from her early jokes about construction workers retracting their catcalls when they get a good look at her to her clever closer, a brilliant parody of all things politically correct (and un-erotic) called Feminist Fan Fiction.
A gifted improviser, Brooke Perrin comfortably riffs with the audience about their marital status, how old they were when they lost their virginity and why hetero men sleep on shitty beds.
The banter leads to well-crafted jokes about things that feel authentic, like dealing with annoying friends who announce that they’re engaged – though I miss the shoulder-shrugging demonstration of this bit from her live act.
She’s also got a great sense of the absurd, musing about whether sleeping with rocker Bret Michaels will turn you into a bandana and describing actor Peter Dinklage as “Tom Selleck if you put him in the dryer for an hour.”
Another bit of audience interaction leads to the title track, a classic joke about an unfortunate tattoo.
We all make mistakes, it’s implied, but we need to see the humour in them. Brooke Perrin does that in spades.
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