Don't over sell your show they say. Well.. Never. Tell. Me. The. Odds. God's Own, Anthony Crum returns with a near PERFECT hour of Stand Up Comedy.
Anthony Crum’s Handsome Man is one of the more unusual comedy hours I have seen at the festival this year. Crum is an award winning improviser and actor with an impressive background. He has performed with Snort, appeared in Viva La Dirt League sketches, and won Best Debut in 2023 for his duo show Hot Filthy Garbage. He is clearly talented, clearly confident, and clearly capable of commanding a stage. Which is why Handsome Man is such a perplexing experience.
This is not a conventional stand up show. It is not even a conventional improv show. It is something stranger, more experimental, and far more divisive. I would almost describe it as an anti-meme. A deliberate rejection of punchlines, structure, and narrative in favour of awkwardness, silence, and absurdity. For a few people in the audience, this was exactly their sense of humour. They were laughing loudly, fully invested, and clearly delighted by the chaos. For the rest of us, it was a confusing hour that often felt like we were watching something designed for someone else entirely.
The show is built from a series of disconnected bits that avoid jokes on purpose. Crum leans into the unconventional, the uncomfortable, and the surreal. He sings Rat Pack style crooner songs, mostly without backing music. He brushes his teeth on stage. He over hydrates. He reads from a magazine. He draws audience members. He changes jackets repeatedly. He wanders into the crowd and repeats the same line until someone gives him the response he needs to continue. He whispers. He stares. He meanders. He communicates in a way that feels intentionally aloof, as if the audience is meant to sit in the uncertainty.
To be fair, he has a genuinely beautiful singing voice. His Frank Sinatra covers are smooth, confident, and technically impressive. But the question that hangs over the room is simple. To what end. The singing is lovely, but it does not connect to anything. It does not build a story or a character. It does not escalate. It simply exists, floating between the other fragments of the show.
The lack of cohesion is the defining feature of Handsome Man. There is no narrative thread, no thematic arc, no sense of progression. It feels like Crum grabbed five random items on his way out the door and decided to improvise an hour around them. That may well be the point. It may be an intentional experiment in anti-comedy. But intentional or not, the result is an experience where long stretches of silence leave the audience waiting for something to happen while Crum stands in the middle of the room staring back at them.
There are moments that land. The absurdity occasionally becomes funny simply because it is so ridiculous. A few of the improvised interactions spark genuine laughter. The people who enjoy this style of humour enjoy it wholeheartedly. But for the majority of the room, the energy never quite lifts. The silence becomes heavy rather than playful. The awkwardness becomes uncomfortable rather than clever. It comes across like an unholy combination of Mr Bean and Family Guy.
Crum’s background in improv is obvious. He is comfortable on stage, unafraid of risk, and willing to commit fully to whatever bit he is doing. That commitment is admirable. It takes confidence to hold a room in silence. It takes nerve to push through a joke and force it to land. It takes boldness to build a show around discomfort and confusion. But confidence alone cannot carry an hour, and the show often feels like it is missing the structure needed to support the experimentation.
To Crum’s credit, he never loses his composure. He checks his watch along with the audience, acknowledging the passage of time in a way that becomes its own bit. He leans into the awkwardness rather than trying to smooth it over. He commits to the absurdity with full sincerity. There is no sense of panic, no sense of frustration. He knows exactly what he is doing, even if the audience does not.
But intention does not always equal impact. And the impact of Handsome Man is uneven. It is a show that will absolutely delight a very specific type of comedy fan. Someone who loves anti-humour, surrealism, and long stretches of silence. Someone who enjoys watching a performer push against the boundaries of what a comedy show can be. Someone who finds joy in the uncomfortable.
For everyone else, it is a confusing, awkward, and often frustrating hour that never quite finds its footing. There is talent on display. There is confidence. There is commitment. But there is not enough structure or clarity to make the experience satisfying for a general audience.
The show is part of the NZ International Comedy Festival. Find tickets to a show near you here
Review written by Alex Moulton