The edgiest of young New York comics have abandoned Seinfeldian observational humour and are moving in whatever direction their abrasive little minds will take them. As one said: "You're paying five bucks. We can take some chances." :)
An excerpt from the NYT story:
IT was about halfway through a comedy show at the East Village bar Rififi when an image of Hitler appeared on a screen in front of the audience, 50 or so young people packed in a small back room on a recent Thursday night.
"He was the most evil dictator the world had ever seen," a narrator declared in the melodramatic tone of a movie trailer voice-over. A picture of Andrew Dice Clay flashed on the screen. "He was the most offensive comedian the world had ever seen," the narrator said.
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Image of Hitler: "He performed crimes against humanity that until then the world had deemed unfathomable." Image of Mr. Clay: "He told dirty nursery rhymes that shocked a nation."
"Hitler; Dice," the narrator continued as the two images morphed. "The two most important people of the 20th century are about to combine as one. This summer Andrew Dice Clay is -- Adolph Dice Hitler Clay!"
At that point Brett Gelman, a 29-year-old comedian from Brooklyn, bounded onto the stage wearing a studded black leather vest and pompadour, as favored by Mr. Clay, and a Hitler moustache. He regaled his audience with a monologue that combined the thoughts of Hitler with the tough-guy, streets-of-Brooklyn accent of Mr. Clay.
"You know Eva's always in my ear about how come we don't make love no more," Mr. Gelman said, cocking his head and puffing on a fake cigarette, Dice-style. " 'It's Poland this and Paris that. Why don't you make love to me?' "
"Shut up!" Mr. Gelman barked. "I'm conquerin' Europe over here!"
There's a decent chance that Mr. Gelman's over-the-top Hitler bit wouldn't play well among the tourists at Manhattan's traditional stand-up clubs, places like Caroline's and Stand-Up New York, a universe where Seinfeldian observational humor still reigns and the only costumes comedians wear are jeans and T-shirts. But among the young comedy fans who frequent Rififi, Mr. Gelman's gag was an unqualified hit, and he left the 10-foot-by-10-foot stage to a rousing ovation.
Bars and back rooms in the East Village and Lower East Side are overflowing these days with the likes of Adolf Dice Hitler Clay: not spoofs of Nazis necessarily, but rather a wave of young and creative comics who are branching out from straight stand-up to eccentric sketch and character-based humor that owes more to "Da Ali G Show" than to George Carlin. They may not have created an entirely new form of humor, but collectively they form a cohesive and happening new comedy scene downtown, one with an urbane sensibility and a vibe that is different from the established stand-up joints. The rooms are small. Shows are cheap, or free. And there is almost never a two-drink minimum.