As more and more music festivals add comedy elements to their lineup, Brian Posehn continues to be one of the more appropriate comedians to bridge the gap between audiences — the heavy-set, bearded, metal-loving dude fits in perfectly. Performing his second of two nights early in the Halifax Pop Explosion, Posehn veered away from his Sabbath obsession (mentioning them only once) and instead focused primarily on himself. His fat, disgusting, farting, aging self.
His self-deprecating set actually starts from a place of self-improvement, discussing his diet, swearing off strip clubs and quitting smoking pot. (Not entirely clear if his jokes about having someone get him high after the show were just that, or if the bandwagon has indeed run him over after he fell off it recently.) But he quickly returned to how gross he finds himself — sweaty man tits, descending and malfunctioning genitalia ("where's the male authority figure in our lives to tell us about the dripping penis?") and of course, Star Wars. (He pointed out that he's made Star Wars jokes on his last three stand-up albums and will again on his upcoming one. "Star Wars is my Vietnam, man.")
Posehn's comic genius stems from the gulf between how we see ourselves mentally (perpetually 15 years old) and how our bodies — and the world — contradict that self-image. Posehn is still a hard-partying festival goer who'd be out till dawn with random strangers, raising hell on the streets of Halifax, at least in his mind. In reality, he'll go back to his hotel room for a late night treat he's too tired to enjoy, only to find it on his sweaty chest when he wakes up and turns it into a breakfast treat. Disgusting, hilarious and for some of us, harshly true.
His self-deprecating set actually starts from a place of self-improvement, discussing his diet, swearing off strip clubs and quitting smoking pot. (Not entirely clear if his jokes about having someone get him high after the show were just that, or if the bandwagon has indeed run him over after he fell off it recently.) But he quickly returned to how gross he finds himself — sweaty man tits, descending and malfunctioning genitalia ("where's the male authority figure in our lives to tell us about the dripping penis?") and of course, Star Wars. (He pointed out that he's made Star Wars jokes on his last three stand-up albums and will again on his upcoming one. "Star Wars is my Vietnam, man.")
Posehn's comic genius stems from the gulf between how we see ourselves mentally (perpetually 15 years old) and how our bodies — and the world — contradict that self-image. Posehn is still a hard-partying festival goer who'd be out till dawn with random strangers, raising hell on the streets of Halifax, at least in his mind. In reality, he'll go back to his hotel room for a late night treat he's too tired to enjoy, only to find it on his sweaty chest when he wakes up and turns it into a breakfast treat. Disgusting, hilarious and for some of us, harshly true.
