Monday, May 02, 2016
Larry Wilmore bombed at the White House Correspondents Dinner
From what I hear he’s a lovely guy. And I sure liked THE BERNIE MAC SHOW, which he ran.
I know he’s talented. I know he’s funny. I was pleased when I heard he was taking over for Stephen Colbert.
But when I watch that show it just doesn’t do it for me. It feels smug and I rarely laugh. Samantha Bee – I laugh. Trevor Noah – Well, I wasn’t expecting much anyway. But Larry Wilmore – it’s like when your five-year-old hits the ball in T-ball but runs to third.
I still tune in from time to time hoping he’s settled in and finally knows to run to first base. But there he goes up the third base line.
Fortunately, I know other people who find his show entertaining, so maybe it’s just me. You can’t tell from his studio audience because those bleachers are filled with screaming hyenas that go batshit over every line.
In any event, I was looking forward to seeing how he’d do hosting the White House Correspondents Dinner Saturday night. And honestly, I was rooting for him.
Ohmygod. He was painful.
Now, it didn’t help that he followed President Obama who was hilarious. Say what you will, the man knows how to deliver a joke. And apparently how to hire excellent comedy writers.
Larry absolutely bombed. And without the benefit of his Red Bull/orgasmic normal audience his material was getting groans. In many cases, the best he could hope for was silence. The only real laughter was sporadic nervous chuckles – coming from Larry himself.
He had no less than twenty jokes about Ted Cruz being the Zodiac killer and not a single one worked. You would think after the fifth one tanked he would know enough to scrap the remaining fifteen.
And it’s not like he didn’t know he was bombing. At one point he said, “Hey, groans are good.” Another time he said to the audience, “You guys are tough.” No, they weren't. They laughed uproariously for a half hour before he got on.
He wrapped it up by saying to the President of the United States, “You did it my n*gga!”
If ever there should have been walk-off music, if ever there should have been a hook or a gong five minutes into a monologue this was it.
It’s as if your five-year-old hit the ball then took off his pants – moments after Roseanne sang the National Anthem.
And I like Larry Wilmore.