More so than any rom-drama tragedy or soulful ballad, Michael Workman’s latest show, We Have Fun Don’t We, paints the quintessential picture of a messy relationship.
Guzzling down a bottle of Jameson, the kooky, spirited comic lets fly. Workman chillingly chronicles the start, middle and crushing finale of times spent with his first love, Kimberly. His hard-hitting introduction sums up existence as a snow-globe transitioning from “charming novelty to sad paperweight”. Workman — dividing his set between blackly comedic anecdotes, elaborate analogies and captivating monologues — tears chunks off first-world problems and humankind’s most repellent qualities. Like a fine whiskey, criticisms against bric-a-brac, KFC, the present, Baby Boomers and children went down smoothly.
