He strolled in like a young William Shatner.
Just kidding, he actually strolled in like a middle-aged Bruce McCulloch, but requested all of us who were “live tweeting” to describe his entrance as such.
From the moment McCulloch awkwardly danced his way onto and around the stage, spitting out advice, spoken word style (“never trust a woman who uses a dream catcher as a birth control device”), accompanied by his lifelong friend and musical collaborator Brian Connally, the audience was hooked.
McCulloch, who is well known as a member of the infamous Canadian sketch comedy troupe The Kids in the Hall, has spent his adult life acting, writing and directing (Superstar, Stealing Harvard, Dog Park).
Young Drunk Punk, which played at the Firehall Arts Centre from Jan. 28 to Feb. 1, is a self-written and directed intimate performance in which McCulloch plays the character of himself. It’s more than stand-up, more than a play, more than musical performance or poetry: it’s a unique and brilliant storytelling concoction with a refreshingly different flavour. Its title comes from the book he is also working on by the same name, from which he has pulled pieces to give us this time-stopping performance.
In Young Drunk Punk, McCulloch discloses his less-than-ideal upbringing in Alberta. He remembers himself as an outsider, which he thinks is just a “fancy word for loser.” His “weird little life” consisted of him blaring The Clash and the Sex Pistols, blow drying his hair, getting drunk and constantly planning out when and how to best beat up his father. In short, being an angsty 80s punk. He let us know that it was easy to be a punk in those days, though: “Just sleep in one day and there you go.”
Family is “something you survive” or “a tyrannical clutch of people who look like you but are nothing like you.”
In addition to the challenging life of an outsider, another major theme of McCulloch’s performance is family, which, as he puts it, is “something you survive,” or “a tyrannical clutch of people who look like you but are nothing like you.”
He reflects on his own youthful rebellion and, despite the fact that his “trophy” children are still very young, he marvels that the days when his son will want to beat him up are not so distant.
Growing old is another theme of the piece. “I used to wear pajamas ironically, now I just wear them.” He explores the horrific experience of once being young and cool and then waking up in the middle of life emptying the dishwasher and understanding the appeal of golf.
Although the show was mostly delivered with dark humour, sincerity was woven in as well. At one point when he was discussing family he reminded us that everyone who exists and has ever existed shares the same air, saying “If you miss somebody, just take a breath.”
From poodles as “gateway dogs” and songs of unicorns with HIV to bad sex weekends and methanol blow jobs, the show weaves a wild, disjointed narrative of McCulloch’s young, mean years — a time of painful self-exploration.
Young Drunk Punk is completely one-of-a-kind: it’s raunchy, surprising and hilarious. It is a brave act that is sure to resonate with the outsider in us all.
