Tig Notaro’s new special, Boyish Girl Interrupted, is another conscious cleanser, but not in the same way Live was. After finding the humor in the tragic — from her mother’s death to her breast cancer diagnosis within the span of less-than-one-year — the comedian decides to follow-up her phenomenally successful set by going into more cheeky territory, and she’s enthused to do so. While ever self-deprecating and deadpan, there’s a surprising playfulness here that’s remarkable in its own little way. Her comedy is as insightful as ever, but with discussions on people's laughs to ramblings on her fear of flying dictating the 55-minute block, Notaro is simply delighted to relish in the silliness again.
After focusing so much time working around the unordinary, the comedian wants to take this time to tell us, over and over again, that she’s “just a person.” One who likes to walk off the stage with a finger-mustache or take their shirt off for half the special, but nevertheless just a mundane everywoman like anyone in her audience. Only once does her medical history come up in the conversation (“I have not told anybody yet,” she jokes halfway through. “You’re the first people to find out.). There’s no soul-searching here. It’s not meant to be deep. She’s not trying to make some great message. She’s simply having fun, and the entertainment is infectious.
That’s not to say she’s slumming it by any means. Her dry delivery is as impeccably timed as ever and she seems more confident in herself and her material than ever, but the near-50 comedian wants to delve into her childlike sensibilities with her HBO/Funny or Die-produced hour. She dives head-on into the goofy, all while keeping her straight face and never missing a beat. It’s not necessarily laugh-out-loud hilarious, but it’s nevertheless among the most consistent and readily amusing material she’s performed yet. As she always does so beautifully, she embraces the awkwardness. Whether it’s chasing a Santa Claus imposter with her friend or reminiscing about an embarrassing public school situation involving the coolest kid in her class, there’s a desire to own up to her mistakes and misgivings, but there’s a sheer giddiness in Notaro this time that’s fresh, completely inviting and highly enjoyable to watch.
Still grounded and self-aware as usual, she’s never afraid to draw out her material or milk it for all its worth, all while making sure it never goes bad. Her presentation is frank and totally sincere, but always proves her down-to-earth personality while always showcasing her raw voice and unmistakably unique presence. She’s invigorated and inspired in her approach now, but still holds her signature trademarks and remains as open and candid as possible. She doesn’t hide anything (as mentioned before, she walks around shirtless for half her time on stage and does so proudly), but she’s enjoying every moment and wants everyone else to get in on the enjoyment too.
Boyish Girl Interrupted, which Notaro also co-directed with Jay Karas, presents the titular comic as unflinching and visceral as ever, but it’s refreshingly low-guarded attitude makes the material all the more engaging. It’s not nearly as forward as her recently-distributed Netflix documentary and it won’t revolutionize the modern comedy landscape as much as Live did, but Notaro would care less about her history here. Rather, her time here is focused on diverting expectations. If Live feared death, than this special celebrates the oddity of life in all its weird wonders. It’s experimental, but also unguarded and loose. The Boston-filmed special is weird, wild and wonderfully its own animal. It's just another sign of Notaro's impeccably distinct, natural talent, celebrating her rising status and also serving as a fine introduction for those new to the bandwagon. It’s a little milder and a little more uneven than her better work, and it doesn’t quite earn the standing ovation Notaro wants it to receive. But it's a more-than-fine presentation of her talents, and there's no need to interrupt that.