Tim Minchin mixes narrative and song

There’s a reason Tim Minchin’s Los Angeles show at Largo sold out Wednesday night: His performances are much better live.

Fans familiar with his satire for skeptics know the strange-looking comedian, musician and actor has broken into the United States primarily through his YouTube page and TV show appearances watched by American Anglophiles and Aussiephiles. He is not, by any means, a studio performer. All of his CDs are of live performances. Still, he comes across even better in the flesh.

 

His sharp and somewhat dark humor is balanced in his expert musical ability and wry demeanor, generally accompanied by sheepish winks. His charm doesn’t come through as clearly online or on video — which has recently become available to Americans by legal means — as it does when he’s onstage, interacting with the audience.

After telling a joke about a man masturbating during a haircut, Minchin broke the musical ice of his two-hour set with his not-so-subtle, somewhat autobiographical song “Rock ‘n’ Roll Nerd,” from his first album. He elicited extra laughs with exaggerated facial expressions and leers at a particularly enthusiastic male audience member.

Minchin’s musical ability is represented through his catalogue of songs and composition credits — he did get an advanced diploma (an Australian associate’s degree) in contemporary music — but it comes across even stronger live. His clear voice rings true when it has to, but he also messes around, improvising on his jazzier tunes and changing the voicing of his lyrics to draw attention to particular moments.

The acoustics of Largo, a venue Minchin has played six times in the last year, don’t hurt either. The humor in Minchin’s act comes from his lyrics, and every word could be clearly heard in the theatre. The room, with walls draped in dark red and blue fabric and covered with old pictures, cozily embraces a vintage feel that emphasized the vaudevillian nature of Minchin’s act.

One reason Minchin is better live is he doesn’t shy from interacting with the audience. He asked members to sing along to his better-known songs and made coy remarks about a woman with a distinct laugh in the middle of the theater, exemplifying his penchant for live improvisation.

The energy of Minchin’s performance comes through clearly on stage. Though it’s clear he feeds off of his audience’s zeal in recordings, those albums feel like overhead conversations when compared to his live act. Like any performer worth his salt, Minchin made sure his audience felt like his show was just for them.

He also knows how to fill a stage with crowd-pleasers in his cabaret-style act. He jumped around with animated intensity, turned over his piano bench during particularly intense moments of “Darkside,” organically used his suit jacket and wine glass as props and began his show with a nearly-obscene view of his backside, clad in very, very tight skinny jeans.

On Wednesday night, Minchin made sure to mix his well-known songs with ones less-avid fans wouldn’t have heard. He played two of his singles — “The Pope Song” and, as an encore, “White Wine in the Sun” — as well as “Storm,” the beat poem that introduced him to many American fans. Less fervent followers perhaps heard for the first time “Context,” a ballad that sounds rude if you only hear the first verse, and “Thank You God,” in which Minchin cheekily recants his atheism.

The show’s pace was appropriate. It carried a strong rhythm that resonated in the contrast between Minchin’s comedic stories and comedic songs. If Minchin so desired, he could probably turn his music and stand-up into separate acts, but he uses the relationship between his talents to ease the brutality of his societal criticisms and boost the energy of his presence on stage.

Minchin’s tight set showed off his personality and professionalism, so he could please both the ardent and the uninitiated fans. No more Los Angeles tour dates are set at the moment, but those curious about his work can peruse his YouTube or Twitter pages for a taste of his songs. If you prefer skepticism to spirituality, it’s easy to ask for another helping.