In a small black box at the Pleasance courtyard, I desperately needed to pee. But after spending a little time with Daniel Foxx, the burdens of a small bladder gave way to unrelenting laughter. With the help of a piano and some sarcastically soulful singing, the audience was given a prompt introduction to the comic’s quick, and sinfully smug humour. He was snippy and I liked it. With a queer sensibility, the rose tinted glasses with which we watched our favorite childhood fables were taken, or rather, ripped off of our unsuspecting faces. And I didn’t mind. His interpretation of these familiar tales makes them feel brand spanking new as he unveils how obviously they were oh so queer. Even if he was talking about a fairytale you’ve never heard of, his version made it better than the original anyway.
We can trace the origins of the people we are today to our formative years. And trace Daniel did. Heartbreaking moments in his early years of growing up out and gay were sandwiched between effortlessly hilarious revelations and biting remarks. I truly am a sucker for what I like to call cloak and dagger comedy. You are laughing one moment, gut-wrenched the next, then laughing again in the span of ten seconds. His wit is as sharp as the devil horns shaped out of impenetrable hair product and tufts of his platinum silver hair. The show flowed effortlessly leaving it full of full circles. Written with a skillful knack for recall, Foxx envelopes you into inside jokes built up over the course of an hour that breezes past. Foxx feels like the friend who could make you cackle after you’ve bawled your eyes numb, finding the silver lining in the bad and terribly ugly.
I was laughing perhaps a little too hard for someone with a small bladder. But it was well worth it. Foxx is easy to root for in his display of masterful writing, thoroughly entertaining delivery and effortlessly sincere presence. Foxx is the villain that outlives and outshines any old boring hero.
Daniel Foxx: Villain
19:05 @ Pleasance Courtyard Baby Grand
August 2-13, 15-27