Comedian Whitney Cummings waded headlong into the #MeToo shitstorm last night as she performed a killer JFL NorthWest set with material from her upcoming Netflix special.
Amid the lethally delivered barbs, she took on dudes who complain they're afraid to hug or have physical contact with female coworkers in the wake of sexual-harassment lawsuits. She suggested this might mean women have to don the same kind of vests seeing-eye dogs sport to keep people from petting them, ones that read "Lady working. Do not hug. Shit to do."
The TV producer and writer admitted during the Vogue set she's been confronted by guys after similar shows in th U.S., and said only half jokingly later she was a bit "scared" about tackling some of the too-hot-to-handle issues onstage. From the soldout crowd's rapturous reception, including an extended book-signing and selfie session with hordes of fans afterwards, she need not have worried.
Cummings spent the night bounding back and forth across the stage in her wedge sneakers, joking that it would be okay if she tripped and fell, because Canada has universal healthcare. In a bit about women's self-defence, she asked the crowd if we carry mace up here, and mocked horror when one West Coaster yelled out, "For bears!"
Later last night at the same venue, Saturday Night Live alumnus, Portlandia star, and Late Night Show with Seth Meyers bandleader Fred Armisen reminisced about playing the Cruel Elephant and devoted a pummelling drum solo from "It's Catching Up" to his favourite Vancouver punk band, NoMeansNo.
His touring show Comedy for Musicians but Everyone Is Welcome definitely played to music fans, but had more than enough warped tangents to please everyone. With songs cued up on the stereo system, a guitar, and drums, Armisen amused the packed house with wandering bits about everything from the history of punk rock to the irritating ditties they play in recycling ads and the enduring mystery of jazz drummers don't use their whole kit. The self-deprecating comedian (and obviously gifted musician) punctuated the set with such non sequiturs as "This is just a side note, but every horse I've ever met has looked right past me."
A Q&A at the end of the show found him doing everything from impressions of Portlandia's customer-averse bookstore owner Candace to copping to getting into comedy after thankless hours spent in a tour van with a band that wasn't going anywhere. (From the late 1980s to the mid 90s, Armisen was drummer for Chicago alternative agitators Trenchmouth.)
The show felt like a love-in with his Canadian fans: "You guys don't brag enough about how great you are," Armisen said.
"We're sorry!" someone yelled, briefly cracking his deadpan .