by ⭐⭐½
This is the opening of his official show description for the 2024 Fringe: “For years, Reginald D Hunter has been misinterpreted as a controversial comedian because of his show titles despite his repeated objections that he is not a controversial comedian.” Ahem. Oops. For the record, I saw Hunter’s performance a couple of nights BEFORE the night where his jab comparing Israel to an abusive spouse prompted two audience members to heckle him, then get taunted back by Hunter as they got up and left the venue. That didn’t happen the night I was there. Hunter’s joke was in the act, and other weirdness happened, but nothing like that.
So, back to Hunter’s official show description: “He has penned Fluffy Fluffy Beavers with some hope to rehabilitate his persona by manifesting images of well-coiffed river creatures building dams of chocolate in rivers of candy, whilst continually delivering pressure inducing ideas to form diamonds of laughter.”
I’m not exactly sure what Hunter had done to need persona-rehabbing, but what I can tell you is that after decades plural of being an American expat comedian in the UK, he feels somehow out of step.
He imagines himself as a superhero named “Blackman” who appears in thin air, whether to intimidate Kevin Hart and question when the arena comedian will decide to be funny himself, in another instance to receive instructions from Michelle Obama, and a third time to do God knows what involving Kim Kardashian. Hunter seems to be working out personal and professional demons onstage, and in this hour, he hasn’t actually worked it all out before getting to the stage. To Americans, he comes across as a middling cross between Alonzo Bodden and Dwayne Kennedy, though lacking in the insightfulness or decisiveness of either one of those comedians.
He seemed surprised to see a lot of latecomers granted entry to his show the night I attended (although he started promptly on time and the Assembly was holding anyone arriving late for 10 minutes), but not so thrown off by the nature of the Fringe to see some audience members walk out before the end of his 50-minute set.
Regardless, what Hunter had to say didn’t feel relevant to now, and not just because his prepared Biden jokes were made meaningless by the president’s decision to drop out of the 2024 election. Most of Hunter’s jokes came off flat-footed, as if he were determined to deliver his observational comedy despite the news of the day. In the end, he may not have to worry about whether the BBC keeps calling him for commentary to represent black Americans (such as the Oscars slap, which feels like it was forever ago now), because if he cannot adapt to the times, his observations won’t be skewered by the media for being offensive. Just hack.
