Second City’s 0% Down, 100% Screwed
Featuring Marty
Adams, Kerry Griffin, Darryl Hinds, Caitlin Howden, Reid Janisse and
Leslie Seiler. Indefinite run. Tue-Sat 8pm; Sat
10:30pm; Sun 7pm. $23-$28. Second City, 51 Mercer. 416-343-0011.
www.secondcity.com.
Timing is, as
they say in this business, everything. Which could work for or against the
latest from Second City. Here we are just a few months after
Wall Street burned to the ground, taking Bay Street and so many McMansions with it, and the
more media-savvy among us are already looking askance at the dubious recession
stories that glut our news and entertainment.
I think The Globe and Mail's recent piece about the
recessionomics of comfort food might have been the last straw.
Yet, as no
laughmonger has failed to point out, hard times can turn out to be high times
for comedy — the Great Depression being the by-now too-frequent example. I
suppose that means vaudeville will make a big comeback in 2010 if housing
starts don't bounce back by the next quarter.
Second City's 0%
Down 100% Screwed wisely opens with a nod to the over-coverage and dubious
finger-pointing that has followed the meltdown, with the cast lined up as a chain
gang, breaking rocks to the call-and-response rhythms of what I'll assume is
called "Blame it on the Crisis." Murder? Testicular cancer? Having to
move to Oshawa? It can all be pinned on the Fed.
But things go
south after that, into a slump from which 0%
Down never entirely recovers. The new show seems burdened by a deficit of
imagination and by a number of sketches that — even on opening night, playing
to a crowd well-stocked with Second City alums — overstayed their welcome.
Though his
immense energy was in full force, Reid Janisse's bit as an overcharged American
saddled with hosting a dull political show in Canada was, well, kinda dull once the flash and
dazzle of his kinetics wore off. (To say nothing of that pixel board belt
buckle — a nice touch, truth be told.) And yet it went on, into a repetitive
and by-the-numbers beat-down of MPs from all five parties.
Likewise, new
arrival Caitlin Howden made an inauspicious debut with a song made up of hockey
players' names that seemed to cover the entire Eastern conference. And Leslie
Seiler went on at some length in her solo turn as a suicidal senior put back to
work at Wal-Mart.
It's clear that the cast and director Melody Johnson
had politics on their minds with this revue and that, at the same time, they
did not want to get bogged down in doomsaying. But perhaps as a result, the
show feels too safe, the gags too obvious. Maybe a little gloom — or better
yet, righteous piss and vinegar — would have done some good, and brought back
the edginess and inventiveness that was evident in Barack to the Future and Facebook
of Revelations.