The Definition of Wrong

Last week, Tony Clifton played two shows at One Eyed Jacks, and it’s hard to imagine entertaintainment in more exquisitely bad taste. Since the lounge singer’s history has been one of serious audience confrontation since his days when he was “associated” with Andy Kaufman – and his appearance during a benefit at Tipitina’s in 2006 – I wondered how his show would play with an audience that would expect aggression and astoundingly off-color jokes.

The beauty of the Clifton show is how it destabilizes everything. Was the guy he punched on the first night a plant or not? Was the girl in the front row who moved chairs during punch lines a plant? The drunk in front of us who kept standing up in over the top appreciation of Clifton? The guy who got on stage who’d peed himself? It’s tempting to say yes in each case, but since they didn’t become part of jokes that paid off in an obvious way – or at all – maybe not.

From what I’ve heard, his first night was more over the top, including a sword swallowing bit that he didn’t do the second night. He didn’t goad the audience to the breaking point, though the night before he succeeded in enraging people who knew the act anyway. Instead, he seemed to revel in telling pedophile jokes and singing songs by Chicago (you decide which is in worse taste). Even in that, Tony Clifton – now often “associated” with Kaufman friend Bob Zmuda – commit so thoroughly to creating a train wreck that it’s mandatory viewing.