by Josh Sewell
I don’t normally review stand-up specials, but I’m making an exception this week for a couple of reasons. First, and perhaps most obvious, these are unusual times and most of us need quality entertainment wherever we can find it.
Second, it’s because Patton Oswalt is my favorite comedian in an era when there are a lot of competitors for that title. We’re in a golden age of stand-up, although it’s tough to find everything because there are so many outlets that allow wildly different performers to connect with audiences who share a similar sense of humor.
Still, Oswalt stands out among his contemporaries. That’s partly because he’s been honing his craft for decades, so his albums and specials are easily accessible thanks to Netflix, Comedy Central, streaming music services, etc. But it’s also because he’s so tremendously talented that his material rises above the rest.
I would argue he’s in the conversation of all-time greats, on the same level as Carlin, Diller, Pryor, Murphy, Rock, Chapelle, Madigan, Regan, Gaffigan, Hedberg, Mulaney, Wong and a host of others. Oswalt’s style is uniquely his own, particularly the way he combines relatable situations with occasional hilariously obscure references. However, he also crafts his language precisely, using his talent as a storyteller to guide his audience down a meandering trail, often making us think we’re going in one direction and blindsiding us with an unexpected punchline at the perfect moment.
In his early days, Oswalt’s material was edgy and cynical (to be fair, that’s a lot of us in our 20s and 30s), but it’s been fun to watch him evolve into a middle-aged guy with different priorities. He hasn’t mellowed or gone soft, but he’s traded an “I’m hipper than you” demeanor for a live-and-let-live attitude, aiming at different targets.
These days, he’s reminiscent of that nerdy, easygoing English professor who seems weird at first, but his class becomes your favorite by the end of the semester. (Since I teach college English, he’s basically my career role model).
I Love Everything, his new special that hit Netflix earlier this week, proves he’s not satisfied with collecting a big payday to halfheartedly deliver rough draft material – unlike some of his contemporaries coasting on the fumes of their legendary status. Instead, he’s still honing his craft and getting better.
It’s his follow-up to 2017’s Annihilation, which saw Oswalt brilliantly navigate the near-impossible tightrope walk of discussing the unexpected death of his wife (true crime writer Michelle McNamara). No one would’ve blamed him for avoiding such a personal tragedy in his act, but the segment is downright miraculous. He somehow manages to find moments humor in the most devastating experience of his life. Until then, I’d never watched a stand-up special that made me laugh and weep at the same time.
The opening seconds of I Love Everything – not counting an initially jarring in media res setup about eating at Denny’s that pays off beautifully 52 minutes later – evoke this memory as Oswalt steps onto the stage wearing a wedding ring on both hands. (He married actress Meredith Salenger in 2017.) He has a few minutes of material about finding love again, and it’s a joy to see the audience cheer for his happiness.
Then, he segues into one of their recent arguments and the hilariously awkward way she tried to apologize. From then on, the fun comes from marveling at Oswalt’s ability to find hilarity in the mundane without sounding like a hacky ’80s comedian griping about airline food.
That includes his thoughts on turning 50 and his disappointment that society no longer allows people to sit down once they hit middle age. Now it’s mountain bikes, hiking, and depressing breakfast cereal that “tastes like an unpopular teenager’s poetry.” He also has a terrific bit about renovating his home and discovering that contractors lead to an underworld of talented but demented subcontractors.
While some viewers may be put off by some rough language (although that’s par for the course in stand-up), the sharpest Oswalt gets is with a few brief moments of political material. He tells the audience he’s not going to do a bunch of Trump jokes, despite his non-comedian friends assuming the president is a gold mine of material. Instead, he perceptively describes the former Apprentice host as his own form of trainwreck entertainment that a couple of jokes from a comedian can’t compete with.
Finally, Oswalt wraps up with the aforementioned bit about Denny’s that starts as a lunch date with his daughter and ends up going to some hilariously existential places. By the time he brought the joke in for a landing, I wanted to stand up and cheer, even though I was watching it at home by myself.
If you’re an Oswalt fan, or just like stand-up in general, I can’t recommend I Love Everything enough. It showcases a brilliant storyteller and wordsmith at the top of his game, suggesting that his best days could still be ahead of him.
Patton Oswalt: I Love Everything is rated TV-MA for language. Now available on Netflix. It includes a bonus special from longtime stand-up Bob Rubin.
Grade: A
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| Courtesy of Netflix |
I don’t normally review stand-up specials, but I’m making an exception this week for a couple of reasons. First, and perhaps most obvious, these are unusual times and most of us need quality entertainment wherever we can find it.
Second, it’s because Patton Oswalt is my favorite comedian in an era when there are a lot of competitors for that title. We’re in a golden age of stand-up, although it’s tough to find everything because there are so many outlets that allow wildly different performers to connect with audiences who share a similar sense of humor.
Still, Oswalt stands out among his contemporaries. That’s partly because he’s been honing his craft for decades, so his albums and specials are easily accessible thanks to Netflix, Comedy Central, streaming music services, etc. But it’s also because he’s so tremendously talented that his material rises above the rest.
I would argue he’s in the conversation of all-time greats, on the same level as Carlin, Diller, Pryor, Murphy, Rock, Chapelle, Madigan, Regan, Gaffigan, Hedberg, Mulaney, Wong and a host of others. Oswalt’s style is uniquely his own, particularly the way he combines relatable situations with occasional hilariously obscure references. However, he also crafts his language precisely, using his talent as a storyteller to guide his audience down a meandering trail, often making us think we’re going in one direction and blindsiding us with an unexpected punchline at the perfect moment.
In his early days, Oswalt’s material was edgy and cynical (to be fair, that’s a lot of us in our 20s and 30s), but it’s been fun to watch him evolve into a middle-aged guy with different priorities. He hasn’t mellowed or gone soft, but he’s traded an “I’m hipper than you” demeanor for a live-and-let-live attitude, aiming at different targets.
These days, he’s reminiscent of that nerdy, easygoing English professor who seems weird at first, but his class becomes your favorite by the end of the semester. (Since I teach college English, he’s basically my career role model).
I Love Everything, his new special that hit Netflix earlier this week, proves he’s not satisfied with collecting a big payday to halfheartedly deliver rough draft material – unlike some of his contemporaries coasting on the fumes of their legendary status. Instead, he’s still honing his craft and getting better.
It’s his follow-up to 2017’s Annihilation, which saw Oswalt brilliantly navigate the near-impossible tightrope walk of discussing the unexpected death of his wife (true crime writer Michelle McNamara). No one would’ve blamed him for avoiding such a personal tragedy in his act, but the segment is downright miraculous. He somehow manages to find moments humor in the most devastating experience of his life. Until then, I’d never watched a stand-up special that made me laugh and weep at the same time.
The opening seconds of I Love Everything – not counting an initially jarring in media res setup about eating at Denny’s that pays off beautifully 52 minutes later – evoke this memory as Oswalt steps onto the stage wearing a wedding ring on both hands. (He married actress Meredith Salenger in 2017.) He has a few minutes of material about finding love again, and it’s a joy to see the audience cheer for his happiness.
Then, he segues into one of their recent arguments and the hilariously awkward way she tried to apologize. From then on, the fun comes from marveling at Oswalt’s ability to find hilarity in the mundane without sounding like a hacky ’80s comedian griping about airline food.
That includes his thoughts on turning 50 and his disappointment that society no longer allows people to sit down once they hit middle age. Now it’s mountain bikes, hiking, and depressing breakfast cereal that “tastes like an unpopular teenager’s poetry.” He also has a terrific bit about renovating his home and discovering that contractors lead to an underworld of talented but demented subcontractors.
While some viewers may be put off by some rough language (although that’s par for the course in stand-up), the sharpest Oswalt gets is with a few brief moments of political material. He tells the audience he’s not going to do a bunch of Trump jokes, despite his non-comedian friends assuming the president is a gold mine of material. Instead, he perceptively describes the former Apprentice host as his own form of trainwreck entertainment that a couple of jokes from a comedian can’t compete with.
Finally, Oswalt wraps up with the aforementioned bit about Denny’s that starts as a lunch date with his daughter and ends up going to some hilariously existential places. By the time he brought the joke in for a landing, I wanted to stand up and cheer, even though I was watching it at home by myself.
If you’re an Oswalt fan, or just like stand-up in general, I can’t recommend I Love Everything enough. It showcases a brilliant storyteller and wordsmith at the top of his game, suggesting that his best days could still be ahead of him.
Patton Oswalt: I Love Everything is rated TV-MA for language. Now available on Netflix. It includes a bonus special from longtime stand-up Bob Rubin.
Grade: A
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