Comedy review: Aziz Ansari

Aziz Ansari may be the latest breakout comedy star in the US, having been officially enshrined in American pop culture by hosting the 2010 MTV Movie Awards, but he's still relatively anonymous in the UK. He's most recognisable from small roles in recent Apatow-sponsored comedy movies like Funny People and Get Him to the Greek, as well as a memorable one episode appearance on Flight of the Conchords as a racist fruit vendor ("Great speech; too bad New Zealanders are a bunch of cocky A-holes descended from criminals and retarded monkeys"). His most meaty roles, on US sitcom Parks & Recreation and as co-creator of MTV sketch show Human Giant (with Rob Huebel and Paul Scheer) are still niche viewing in the UK, blighted by British broadcasters' bizarre hesitance to purchase or effectively schedule American comedy shows.

Still, Ansari's UK anonymity was gleefully and ruthlessly exploited by the crowd that gathered to see his stand-up set within the confines of the Soho Theatre on Saturday night. After all, seeing Ansari in such a small room (with the stage set of a recent play hastily covered over in the style of a Dexter kill room, no less) is probably an increasingly rare prospect in LA or New York.

Support act Dan Levy is an effective introduction to the slick comedy patter of which Ansari is a master. In his short set, Levy breathlessly covers getting obsessed with random extras in pornos, tripping balls on magic cookies and encountering vengeful Twilight fans with nary a misplaced syllable. It's funny stuff, and one of the rare stand-up instances where I might have appreciated another five minutes of a support act rather than readying a pre-prepared bag of staplers to throw at their head if they stray beyond the 10 minute mark.

But within two minutes of Aziz Ansari taking the stage, we're reminded why it's him we came to see. In some ways, it's hard to define Ansari's appeal to someone unfamiliar with his style. There are other stand-ups who have smarter, better material. There are other stand-ups who are more innovative and unpredictable in their performances. But no one delivers a gag better than Aziz Ansari. The South Carolina native is a massive hip hop fan, and his ability to zip through jokes at a pace that threatens to break the sound barrier while maintaining nuance and clarity would make any rapper proud.

A recent Independent review of Ansari's London show described his tone as "mildly pissed off". With respect, that's bollocks. What's so refreshing about Ansari is his refusal to lunge for the easy laughs with the kind of faux-embittered vitriol that's so common in modern comedy. His set is peppered with a wide-eyed bewilderment that keeps the tone firmly whimsical, even when he's describing shooting a pair of puppies in the face to teach their owners a lesson about respecting one's elders. The jokes centre around his lack of success with women ("I'm gonna hang out with Brian; he's never mean to me"), his abiding love of meaty snacks ("It's scientifically proven that a quesadilla at 3am is 'delicious'. That research was done by me, last night") and the magical insanity of rap stars (one stand-out anecdote sees 50 Cent stubbornly refusing to get the difference between grapes and grapefruit), for the most part delivered with a pep that suggests Ansari is amused by the weirdness of life rather than infuriated by it.

You'd have thought the son of an Indian immigrant raised in the American South would have a preoccupation with race relations, but Ansari bears no grudges here. When he does focus on racism he's more absorbed in the inane details, like how almost any phrase can be interpreted as racist if it's delivered aggressively enough (a risky joke, Ansari explains, because it requires a non-white person to be in the front row at every show) or the sheer randomness of obscure racial slurs ("touched with the tar brush" comes to mind, especially as it apparently applies to me).

There are some nice, personal touches scattered here and there, like the moment at the very beginning of the set when Ansari positions himself in contrived stand-up poses to give the audience a photo op before the show starts, or when he shoehorns a Marks & Spencer reference into a gag before launching into a tirade about how tired that technique is.

For the encore, Ansari does an impromptu Q&A and wheels out Raaaaaaaandy (with eight A's) for us one more time. But he acknowledges that the character has passed his sell-by date. Randy was a moment in time, a stand-up so epically inane that he came full circle back to making us laugh our dicks off. Randy's still a part of Ansari's set to a degree - we get a peek of him in the occasional drawn out syllable or exaggerated movement - but with Aziz the man, we get so much more.

(Picture courtesy of Jakob Lodwick)