When Comics Don't Make Noise

While watching Eddie Izzard's full performance last week, there were several parts that stood up. Among them are the Steve McQueen-Great Escape bits, the skiing bit, and the Englebert Humperdink bit. What was most fascinating about the EH (for simplicity's sake) part was the way he completely took control of the audience. He set them up with a scenario, got every little bit he could out of it (and I mean every little bit, he left no stone or name unturned), and then managed to drag (no pun intended) the joke out for another minute WITHOUT SAYING ANOTHER WORD. This is truly the work of a virtuoso.

Izzard does this by telling the audience that Mr. EH has recently died. Just that day, in fact. At first, the audience meets the comment with silence and the random "Awww." But then Izzard claims, "No, he didn't," and the audience begins to laugh. He then nods his head as if, "Yes, the poor old man really did kick it today." More laughs. Then, a shake of the head, "No, I'm just screwing around with you silly, ignorant people." Laughs even further.

Izzard does this back-and-forth joke for well over a minute, and never do the laughs begin to cease. In fact, they seem to grow and grow. (In our classroom, this is actually when the laughs seemed to be at their highest.)

Now, were we laughing at the fact that EH had possibly died? No, I don't think so. The fact that a man with a name that great was still living? Not really. We were laughing at the way Izzard put us in place. He was acting like our older brother (or sister, because of the makeup and heels), making us feel silly in our ignorance but at the same time laughing at his delivery. Only a master could have pulled this off and with such panache as Izzard did.