Tim Allen plays off sitcom stereotypes in stand-up

He professes to hate children and love cursing, but knows the irony of how much of his career is based in the land of Disney: “Now all I do is entertain kids and pets.”

Allen’s periodic weekends at The Venetian continue the full-circle swing back to stand-up he started three years ago, even though he’s back on TV with the ABC sitcom “Last Man Standing.”

Four minutes of introductory Buzz Lightyear clips and “Home Improvement” outtakes remind you of the phenomenal riches that followed Allen’s early days in stand-up. He rode the 1990s jackpot wave that also pulled Ray Romano and Jerry Seinfeld up from the journeyman comedy club ranks.

Those guys were fairly stiff and awkward TV actors in their early sitcom days. Maybe Allen was too. But watch him now, and you doubt it. A recent Venetian show was as much the work of an actor as a stand-up.

There’s no “Where you from?” stuff, no banter with the crowd, no winging it. If someone yelled up (and on this night, no one dared) he would probably ignore it. This is a very precise, very rehearsed brand of monologue that even taps some character acting here and there, as Allen slips into voices from his past.

A good chunk of this set delved into the Louie Anderson and Bill Cosby realm of colorful family tales from childhood, particularly a great extended bit about shooting Grandma with a BB gun.

Allen isn’t a comedian of great insight, but an hour seems to come easy to him. He wanders through topics and tone, from fail-safe fart jokes (the closer, no less) to the semismart: a riff on just why it took until 1954 to outlaw bestiality, and what specific incident provoked that, anyway?

But Allen pulls it together here – and elevates some weaker material in the process – by never letting you forget who he is.

He will ground some generic observations with specifics. Anyone can do a riff on yelling up at stupid movies, but Allen follows his with how he then had to face Tom Cruise at the “Mission: Impossible III” premiere, letting you sort out for yourself where the truth and the joke meet.

He includes some “Home Improvement” attitude about bike helmets – “You’re not jumpin’ the fountains at Caesars” – and some “Last Man Standing” manly manness about how “we turned into the little pussy generation” since the era of M-80s and the great Whammo toys, such as lawn darts.

The annoying trait that undermines the act is one he never lets go of, and perhaps betrays his years away from the club circuit. Allen seems prouder than a young fan of “The Santa Clause” to not only say dirty words, but call attention to them. He even keeps count, for cryin’ out loud. (Yes, it’s a “callback” bit, but still.)

He also over-explains his stance against political correctness, such as wondering why we can’t we say “mulatto” anymore; the word sounds “smooth,” while “mixed race” sounds “like a snack.”

If you’re going to go all grumpy old man, don’t apologize for it. Real men don’t take prisoners.

But Allen knows he’s playing off a nice-guy persona as well as sitcom stereotypes. They’ve both served him well. No joke is good enough to get in the way of all that now.

Comedian Lowell Sanders, Allen’s usual opening act, is another stand-up veteran, polished and experienced, with an old-school African-American sensibility that appeals to Allen’s age group from a different perspective.

Like Allen, Sanders is a little partial to the old days and their music, pre gangsta rap: “You never heard about the Four Tops doin’ a drive-by on the Temptations.”

Contact reporter Mike Weatherford at mweatherford@
reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0288.