Mike Birbiglia is a lovable guy. In his one-man-stand-up-and-pace-and-sometimes-sit-on-a-stool-or-sit-cross-legged-on-the-floor comedy routine, he smiles constantly and all but laughs at his own observations. If he’s reminiscent of anyone, it’s Sam Levenson, who may be forgotten today but was beloved during the 1960s and 1970s for his humor and warmth.
Birbiglia has the same warmth and humor while working the stage as if he’s playing. For The New One, his latest audience tête-à-tête—directed by regular collaborator, the astute Seth Barrish—he does what he’s done in his previous shows, Sleepwalk With Me, My Girlfriend’s Boyfriend and Thank God for Jokes. He gabs jovially about the daily nothings that, when you think more about them, are actually humanity’s huge somethings.
Though there’s no couch on Beowulf Boritt’s simple, economic set with its patterned rung, Birbiglia starts chatting about couches he’s known, especially the one he and wife Jan (whom he sometimes calls Clo for no explained reason) bought for the Brooklyn home where they live and from which he ventures when touring his carefully scripted but beautifully off-hand discussions.
After the couch recollections and digressions about his compromised health (a weird sleeping affliction, among them), he recalls that Jen and he agreed as they married that they didn’t want children. The vow, which undoubtedly wasn’t part of their marriage vows, began to crumble when Jen/Clo changed her mind and worked on Mike to change his.
He did—this despite being diagnosed as having sperm that didn’t swim well. (Neither does he, he confides). In time, daughter Una (Una for one, the only new one the couple aim to commit to) was born and then changed the Mike-Jen lives they swore could not and would not be changed.
The remainder of The New One—which includes a marvelous coup de théâtre that won’t be revealed—is all about how Mike, Jen and Una have become a loving family in the face of how the youngster’s arrival altered the balance at home. Then cleverly, Birbiglia returns to bantering about the most recent couch purchased and how it serves the trio.
It’s pertinent to mention that off and on during his subtly trenchant discourse, Birbiglia talks with extreme frankness about his sexual behavior. While at it, he makes his confidences not at all leeringly crude. They register as what they are: entirely natural. He’s a man with no guile. Despite his confessions, he’s apparently very comfortable with himself. These are accomplishments that not too many stand-ups can claim—or, maybe, would want to.
By the way, don’t ask me for specific laugh lines, of which there are scores. For me, they evaporate as they pass. Yet they are commendably effective when Birbiglia spouts them and then, just as often as not, follows them with one of those sunbeam grins. One I did jot down is the sneakily amusing, “I had an opinion once.” Regularly, Birbiglia has the knack of topping a gag with another line and then another and yet another.
“I’m in the joke business,” he proclaims more than once. Indeed he is. I also need to point out that while I rarely laughed out loud but sat throughout with my own appreciative grin, the audience of Birbiglia fans (the run sold out in 24 hours) giggled and guffawed from start to finish. You really can’t ask for much more than that.
The New One opened August 2, 2018, at the Cherry Lane Theatre and runs to August 26. Tickets and information: thenewone.com
