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I've known Marcus Monroe, a juggler and comedian, since he was a teenager. But I only knew him remotely—he would pitch me when I ran a teen mag, and I would put him in when possible because he was charming indefatigable in getting the word out about his unique talents.
Finally, we met in person last week when he did his show IAMFAMOUS at Joe's Pub at the Public. It was the perfect venue for his act, which could be described as a mix of groaner-stoner humor, anarchic witticisms and, you know, throwing stuff and catching it.
Monroe skillfully displays a supreme unconfidence on stage, playing a dippy character so well that his occasional zingers are doubly surprising—the topics of politics, drugs, race, gender, sexual identity and, predominantly, popular culture are touched on.
He was occasionally off the mark, such as the time he shouted, “Black-out!” to indicate the lights should go down, and two black audience members in the front row hurriedly got up to leave. Stuff like that felt a little less carefully conceived than his elaborate run-down (and stealth running-down of) what it means to be Internet-famous.
The show ended with a fake money shot of geyser-like proportions and Marcus gussied up as “Angel” from Rent, but those moments weren't nearly as outrageous as when he aggressively juggled razor-sharp knives.
The guy is good! Glad I wrote about him back in the day; turns out he deserved it.
The audience included actor Fred Weller and, front and center, Lucie Arnaz and Larry Luckinbill. I'd met Lucie after her amazing cabaret show, but had always wanted to meet Larry so I could gush to him about The Boys in the Band (1970), which I was finally able to do. It was very interesting stealing glances at Lucie as she took in the show (she has produced him in the past), thinking of the old-school comedy greats she had known and seen in action; she seemed as impressed as anyone else, and as surprised by the steady stream of out-of-nowhere one-liners coming from the dude tossing around bowling pins.
Men's Fitness is serving major foot-fetish fodder with two portraits of Peter Berg. I'm hyperaware of such things because when I edited a teen mag, probably 10% of all my mail was from men begging for foot photos, and they didn't have an ounce of shame in asking (these were guys who wanted to see young teens' feet, hello). Nothing wrong with a little adult foot fun ...