Marc Maron brings sardonic humor to Denver
PARAMOUNT ENJOYS HEAVY HUMOR
The Paramount Theatre was awash in the lights flooding down from its marquis as throngs of Colorado residents bustled through the theater’s 1920s-designed entryway to see comedian Marc Maron on April 8.
Around 8:30 p.m., a voice sounding distinctly like Maron came over the speakers. He could not be seen or heard, much like the voice of God, if your God is a neurotic 53-year-old man with three cats—which, for some of the audience members, he is.
Fellow podcaster Dean Delray opened up the night with a few clever jokes about Denver and the absurdity of 16th Street Mall, along with a few jabs at masculinity-the most memorable being about the guys who talk about letting women snort cocaine off of their dicks.
A short time later, Maron took the stage with a weathered and seemingly unorganized legal pad in hand, noting to the audience the obscene amount of water bottles on stage before throwing four of them aside. For the next few minutes, Maron made remarks on Denver’s strange affinity for fitness, the outdoors, and Christianity.
“I don’t know what the fuck he is gonna do next,” Maron said, sounding disturbed. There was no question who this out-of-context comment was about, and the fact that every single person in the room knew who he was talking about made the joke that much more amusing in a kind of sardonic way. President Trump was a regular in Maron’s set.
It is oddly comforting to witness the clear anxiety and neurosis that stemmed from the election exhibited in a “B-list celebrity,” as Maron calls himself. There was no hope in his comments, but his perspective reflected that, there is also not a lot of hope to gain from the situation. Maron riffed on the fact that potentially nothing will be okay, despite reassurances from that one friend who constantly encourages others that everything will work out. That friend wouldn’t enjoy this show.
“Yeah, this isn’t going to be your night,” Maron said to the sea of audience members directed at the potential Trump supporters in the room after making a few jokes on Trump’s own Twitter etiquette. Maron’s performance had a very organized-yet-chaotic, but always entertaining way of moving from subject to subject.
“If I get freaked out or existentially panicked, I think of suicide. Not like I want to kill myself—it’s just comforting,” Maron said, venting to the audience intimately as if they were friends. Maron is perhaps most noted for his candid address of his own emotional and mental issues, which is what makes him such an enticing and oddly encouraging comedian.
Without a doubt, the current societal tumult that America has faced with the recent election was a fodder for Maron’s own comedy as well as neurosis. But as much laughter as he got from his belief in the absurdity of Donald Trump being the President of the United States, the most uncommon but endearing element of Maron’s standup is his ability to make the entire room feel like a friend he ‘s chatting up in his living room.
From directly addressing the audience to going on tangents and telling personal-yet-hilarious anecdotes about his own mortality or his new kitten Buster, Maron found a friendly home in Denver.