Chris D'Elia's Incorrigible isn't exactly smart comedy, but it has enough depth to be engaging and silliness to spare, to the point that you won't care how deep the material is.
If he looks familiar but you don't know why, you might've seen D'Elia as Whitney's boyfriend in the short-lived sitcom Whitney — as in Cummings, the standup comedian.
Recorded in L.A., Incorrigible starts strong even before D'Elia gets a word out. Either the opener killed it or his fan base is the most vocal one in all the land. D'Elia's opening bit emulates the awkwardness of not knowing what to say while combining it with the confidence of an experienced comedian. This move shows that D'Elia knows what he's doing, but also doesn't take himself too seriously, which sets the tone for his material and his performance well.
He goes off on one tangent after another, creating a set that feels very organic. He takes you down increasingly preposterous segues and then finds his way back to his story to great comedic effect. The odd use of a callback or the placement of a joke that is just a little too polished to be improvised reveal the organization and intent underlying his chaotic delivery.
D'Elia does ridiculous act-outs, from sitting on a stool to being charged by a fat-strong woman he called Blanka at a bar, to being electrocuted in Street Fighter — all just to thank the audience for coming out.
Usually, comedians try not to break when they're performing characters, but when D'Elia breaks and laughs at his own jokes, it addd to the comedy because he seems to be genuinely enjoying himself in a way that reminds us that we should stop stressing out and laugh more at the silly stuff like sex, babies, and masculinity.
Exclaim! is reviewing every standup comedy special currently available on Netflix Canada, including this one. You can find a complete list of reviews so far here.
If he looks familiar but you don't know why, you might've seen D'Elia as Whitney's boyfriend in the short-lived sitcom Whitney — as in Cummings, the standup comedian.
Recorded in L.A., Incorrigible starts strong even before D'Elia gets a word out. Either the opener killed it or his fan base is the most vocal one in all the land. D'Elia's opening bit emulates the awkwardness of not knowing what to say while combining it with the confidence of an experienced comedian. This move shows that D'Elia knows what he's doing, but also doesn't take himself too seriously, which sets the tone for his material and his performance well.
He goes off on one tangent after another, creating a set that feels very organic. He takes you down increasingly preposterous segues and then finds his way back to his story to great comedic effect. The odd use of a callback or the placement of a joke that is just a little too polished to be improvised reveal the organization and intent underlying his chaotic delivery.
D'Elia does ridiculous act-outs, from sitting on a stool to being charged by a fat-strong woman he called Blanka at a bar, to being electrocuted in Street Fighter — all just to thank the audience for coming out.
Usually, comedians try not to break when they're performing characters, but when D'Elia breaks and laughs at his own jokes, it addd to the comedy because he seems to be genuinely enjoying himself in a way that reminds us that we should stop stressing out and laugh more at the silly stuff like sex, babies, and masculinity.
Exclaim! is reviewing every standup comedy special currently available on Netflix Canada, including this one. You can find a complete list of reviews so far here.
