The title of Christian Lutz’s show is ironic. The dude’s been on the shitty end of life’s stick for a while now. In the wake of the demise of his long-term relationship with his partner and the mother of his two kids, Lutz is now navigating the world as a newly single dad and he’s only just starting to get a handle on WTF it all means.
Today, Lutz is doubly pushing it up a hill. It’s ten past five on a Sunday, and a stone-cold-sober crew of six are gathered to watch his show: two of whom duck out for a smoke just as he kicks off. On top of that, the sound is a bit crap to start and it’s distractingly noisy behind the bar. Against that backdrop, Lutz commits to a Herculean effort: his delivery is high energy. A lesser performer would have died.
Lutz has been out of the game for a long time, so much of the focus is on his hunt for modern love, but two of the funniest parts of the show boil down to good old fart jokes: a fellow passenger dropping one on a plane and the tribulations of desperately trying not to let rip in yoga. It’s puerile, but I’m not above it.
Lutz’s description of home hair cuts (allowing his ex to buzz cut his head with the result that he looks like a “third-day test pitch”) and attempting to go down on someone while kitted out in his sleep apnoea regalia also prompt big laughs.
On the downside, some of Lutz’s shtick was plain uncomfortable. In particular, with only six peeps in the room it felt like a stranger imparting too much information about his awkward sex life. Undoubtedly, those gags would benefit from a bigger crowd. That said, some of his material wouldn’t improve irrespective of how many folks were watching. For instance, the texting acronym jokes felt old (in 2017 everyone’s grandma knows what LOL means). Also, cheating on your partner and admitting to unprotected sex with them subsequently isn’t funny.
By Meg Crawford.
