Last week, prior to the start of Kate—Kate Berlant’s one-woman show at the Connelly Theater—a die-hard fan in row G gave Berlant the title of “the comedian of our generation.”
High praise indeed, and difficult to dispute if you’re familiar with Berlant’s career in comedy. Do yourself a favor and watch Would It Kill You to Laugh?, her 2022 Peacock special with frequent sparring partner John Early; the pair play estranged celebs and former sitcom stars—their show was called He’s Gay, She’s Half-Jewish—reuniting for a TV interview with Meredith Vieira (playing herself). Never has hot caramel been so funny.
But it’s almost unfair to put Berlant in a comedian box—especially if you’ve seen any of her movie or TV work. Most recently, she was part of the team in the new Prime Video series A League of Their Own, Abbi Jacobson and Will Graham’s rethink of Penny Marshall’s 1992 there’s-no-crying-in-baseball movie; Berlant plays Shirley, who worries about catching botulism from canned food and homosexuality from other women.
Directed by fellow comedian and actor (Promising Young Woman) Bo Burnham—who also wrote and directed the terrific 2018 coming-of-age flick Eighth Grade—Kate showcases the best of both Berlants, if you will. It’s not some kind of stand-up set, with Berlant dragging a microphone across the stage as she lobs one-liner after one-liner. (If that’s what you’re after, the Comedy Cellar is on MacDougal Street.) What Berlant has created is a sort of autobiographical, delightfully absurdist multicharacter sketch show in which she plays, among others, a starry-eyed aspiring actress named Kate; her Jewish father; and her Spanish mother, who seems to take great pleasure in dashing her young daughter’s silver-screen dreams. “Don’t you know the camera registers thought?” yells her mom. “Your crass style of indication is all wrong for it!”
Eventually, 18-year-old Kate makes her way to “the greatest city on Earth”—New York, obviously. After a brief martini-sipping interlude with a guy who sounds like a kidnapper demanding ransom, she discovers theater, literally, when she seeks shelter from “a spontaneous NYC downpour” in a place that looks a lot like the Connelly. And then things get wonderfully weird.
“This show means nothing—you’re aware?” Berlant asks, breaking the fourth wall. “How many people are here? Like 150? You’re vapor.… If I put a video on Instagram and 150 people liked it, I would kill myself.” Theater is over, she informs the audience. “Sondheim is dead. And what’s on Broadway? Harry Potter.”
Wait—is this Berlant herself talking, or another character? And where the heck is this all going? Spoiler: You don’t need to know. Your enjoyment of Kate is actually contingent on your ability to get a little lost. Don’t ask why Kate’s mother speaks with a thick Irish brogue; just go with it. Don’t dwell on the line about her dad taking all the forks. (The forks will return!) Some viewers will find Berlant’s stream-of-consciousness style challenging. Trust us: You’ve just got to let it flow over you. A little like hot caramel.
Kate opened Sept. 7, 2022, at the Connelly Theater and runs through Oct. 8. Tickets and information: kateshow.net
