Limdne | Performing Arts Review | Chicago Reader

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LIMDNE, Tingly Cattle Prods., at WNEP Theater. Matt Kaye packs the program for his one-man show with highbrow references: a quotation from Henry Miller's Tropic of Cancer, an explanation that the title is a calculus term, even a casual mention that Kaye is a member of Mensa. Perhaps these references are a failed attempt at irony, because there's nothing remotely intellectual about Kaye's sense of humor.

Kaye is the kind of guy who thinks it's funny to dance around buck naked except for a big, fluffy stuffed rabbit taped over his genitals. He's the kind of guy who thinks it's funny to stuff his mouth with olive pits and a Tootsie Roll and then deliver a monologue as a talking "rabbit butt" dropping pellets. He's the kind of guy who thinks that funny glasses and a weird, cheap cartoon voice make for a hilarious character. Kaye does such things for an hour--it seems much longer--piling one laughless, infantile gross-out sketch on top of another. All the scenes run too long, and most are painfully predictable and sloppily executed.

The best part of the evening is a cruel audience-participation bit: playing a painfully shy, neurotic boy, Kaye pulls a woman from the audience and thrusts her into a fully improvised scene about an awkward first date. Nothing else in this dreary show has half its wit or pathos. --Jack Helbig

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