Aziz Ansari
Live at Madison Square Garden
(Netflix)
B+
Pretty much everyone knows who Aziz Ansari is at this point, but if you don’t, he’s best known as Park & Recreation’s Tom Haverford. He also stole the show in the maybe-not-so-great 30 Minutes or Less and plays the racist fruit cart vendor on HBO’s Flight of the Conchords. I also can’t stop saying “chicky-chicky, parm-parm” thanks to him. Ansari’s new comedy special, Live at Madison Square Garden, is his fourth official standup offering and his second Netflix exclusive.
He starts the show off cleverly, talking about the horrors of the meat industry and Googling the origins of the things we put into our bodies. Somehow, Ansari works some Ja Rule references into this bit, equating Ja’s unique cadence to “someone getting stabbed in the stomach through an ulcer.” I listened to “Mesmerize” for the millionth time just to make sure, but it’s accurate.
Ansari is one of the few comedians who is actually insightful when it comes to relationships. His modern take transcends the traditional “guys and girls are different” jokes – which I am really beginning to hate – and delves into how we communicate with each other in a world of constant contact. In this bit, Ansari is as profound as he is amusing, and strikes a delicate balance between relatability and hyperbole.
His conclusion: We suck. The way Ansari talks about the sheer ridiculousness of something as simple as trying to get someone of the opposite sex to agree to coffee with can apply to all facets of social life, even just making plans with friends. It’s hard as hell to make friends these days, mostly because of how convenient it is to cancel at the last second. Thanks, technology.
At one point, Ansari acts out a text message conversation between two people who are supposed to meet up for drinks, until one of them leaves the decided location to move on to “something better.” His frustration — screaming, “Why? Why’d you just leave? You invited me somewhere and then you left before I got there!” — is hilarious, and something we’ve all experienced far too often.
Another highlight is when Ansari reads text messages from an audience member’s phone. It works as a funny, concrete example of the noncommittal way people try to connect with each other with underwhelming results. When I saw Ansari perform in Tulsa a while back — as part of the tour where he worked on material for this special — he took a random dudebro’s phone and asked a girl out on a date via text. It’s a great bit, one that yields different — yet equally entertaining — results depending on the circumstance.
But most importantly, Live at Madison Square Garden has a greater sense of maturity from Ansari. He uses his trademark repetition, impressions and frantic mannerisms to express his views on issues that really matter to him — something I don’t think we’ve seen before. He covers immigration, feminism and being a part of a generation where he feels stuck between wanting to keep his traditional manners but not being sure how they fit in with a new era of communication.
Given his recent Twitter spat with Rupert Murdoch and his newest subject matter in this special, Ansari’s career is turning a corner. He doesn’t want to just make people laugh; he wants to give them something to think about, even if it’s just how they text.
