Full Frontal Episode Review: …And Samantha Bee After

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As you might suppose, what with your steel-trap mind and uncanny flair for dee-ductive reasoning, this article represents the continuation of an earlier one about the Monday night edition of Full Frontal. Either that or you read the earlier piece. Anyway, in this week’s offering, the show has seen fit to provide us with one broadcast the night before the 2016 election and another on the night after. I think it was generous of TBS to do so, which gives me some slight pause to say it, but I thought the earlier show was the better of the two.

Please don’t get me wrong—it’s not as though the Wednesday night show stunk on ice, it just wasn’t quite as good. But then again, when you considered what transpired the night in between, perhaps your narrator was not in the mood to launch into paroxysms of laughter.
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In addition to being extra and on a different night, the most recent show differed from the pattern by giving us four segments instead of three. The final one was by a rapper who calls herself Lizzo (probably at the top of the charts, but, when it comes to rap and hip-hop, I will freely admit to being an out-of-it, dull-witted clod). The number she did was an amalgamation, consisting of a (sung) anthem, followed by a rap number titled “Good as Hell.” While I wasn’t bowled over by the rap lyrics, I was just puzzled by the title. Making no claim to be a Biblical scholar, I always had this crazy impression that Hell was not meant to be a yardstick for anything good. It’s sort of like when a colleague came inside on a frigid night and proclaimed that it was cold as shit out there. I was tempted to ask him, “So, like 98.6 degrees?”

The first of the four segments was the best one as well as the one that dealt directly with the calamity itself. It had some excellent points to make and was very droll in the bargain. The weakest segment was the third one, which, to no surprise of the show’s regular viewers, was mostly in the interview format, where the program tends to be at its unfunniest.

Come to think of it, the second segment was about an equal mix of presentation and interview, but somehow came out a bit better than the one that followed. That second segment will be your free sample for today. The subject was the formation, such as it has been, of the President Elect’s policy, which, just by the very name of the concept, seems a bit of a joke.

The real joke, though, is on all of us, sad to say.

Full Frontal, TBS, November 9, 2016

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Thomas Cleveland Lane

Thomas Cleveland Lane is a semi-retired freelance writer for pay and a stage actor for nothing more than the opportunity to make a fool of himself. Well, he does get a small stipend from the Washington Area Decency League, after playing the role of Hinezie in The Pajama Game, to never, ever appear on stage in his underpants again. When he has not managed to buffalo some director into casting him, Thomas can often be found at his favorite piano bar, annoying the patrons with his caterwauling. Thomas is the author of an anthology called Shaggy Dogs, a Collection of Not-So-Short Stories (destined to become a cult classic, shortly after he croaks). He is also the alter-ego to a very unbalanced Czech poet named Glub Dzmc. Mr. Lane generally resides in Gaithersburg, Maryland, and was last seen in the mirror, three days ago.
Thomas Cleveland Lane
Thomas Cleveland Lane
Thomas Cleveland Lane is a semi-retired freelance writer for pay and a stage actor for nothing more than the opportunity to make a fool of himself. Well, he does get a small stipend from the Washington Area Decency League, after playing the role of Hinezie in The Pajama Game, to never, ever appear on stage in his underpants again. When he has not managed to buffalo some director into casting him, Thomas can often be found at his favorite piano bar, annoying the patrons with his caterwauling. Thomas is the author of an anthology called Shaggy Dogs, a Collection of Not-So-Short Stories (destined to become a cult classic, shortly after he croaks). He is also the alter-ego to a very unbalanced Czech poet named Glub Dzmc. Mr. Lane generally resides in Gaithersburg, Maryland, and was last seen in the mirror, three days ago.