One Night With Dice

The cover of this dredged-up early performance by the ”hoodlum of humor” — at a small Philadelphia club aptly named the Comedy Factory Outlet — proudly proclaims that it is ”guaranteed to offend.” Clay’s jokes are often brutally chauvinistic, to be sure, and he’s particularly unforgiving here when it comes to gays. But is he funny? Not often enough. The problem with One Night with Dice‘s unpolished hour-long stand-up routine is the same one hurting his latest film, Dice Rules (from a more polished and more recent show at Madison Square Garden): He’s basically a one-joke comedian. Clay would make a perfect caricature on Saturday Night Live every other week, or a good understudy for Fonzie. But his shtick is too thin, repetitious, and predictable to sustain a main event. Ironically, his funniest gags — impressions of Stallone, Travolta, and Pacino in school — are his least controversial. The nursery rhymes, as always, are inane. Clay lends himself to video because all he can do now is preach to the converted — and they can watch in private without offending their politically correct neighbors. Nevertheless, if you’ve seen one roll of the Dice, you’ve seen them all.

One Night With Dice
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