"Tony Hinchcliffe: One Shot" is Bold and Brash

Tony Hinchcliffe: One Shot (2016)

Tony Hinchcliffe's new Netflix comedy special is simultaneously a strange sort of experimental art piece which examines the strange artificial nature of other comedy specials. Rather than being shot from an audience perspective with occasional close zooms and frequent cuts to other shots, it is filmed in one long take. However, unlike a video from a comedy club on YouTube, the camera is just as much a part of the show as Hinchcliffe himself. It breathes and acts as a living person, moving fluidly around him at a close and personal perspective, giving you the odd sensation that you're on stage with him, circling him and watching him closely as he performs his show. One can't help but wonder how the audience felt, watching the camera man on stage with Hinchcliffe, circling him at such a close proximity and occasionally stopping directly in front of him.

The comedy club which One Shot was filmed in already appeared to be rather dark and grimy in its aesthetic, and this is only worsened by the bizarre gritty brown filter layered over the footage, which the special certainly didn't need. However, this is made up for by the odd omnipotence of the camera which makes One Shot part Netflix comedy special, and part art piece.

Grimy filters and swooping cameras only seem to better amplify Hinchcliffe's strange brand of comedy, which is almost as eclectic as the manner in which his special is filmed. His humor is eccentric, branching out into surreal stories (such as an Auto Zone employee who is too enthusiastic for someone who only has one eye) which are an art entirely on their own. Dressed in attire similar to the popular, yet strangely effeminate, villain in a high school movie from the eighties, Hinchcliffe offers the same sort of internal dialogue and judgements that one might expect from that very sort of character. He's a charming and almost elegant blend of profane and proper, as he moves about the stage standing tall and teasing the audience ("that was a hell of a throat clear!"), like the rude popular kid whose friends hang out with him because they don't want to be the next victim of his biting wit.

Hinchcliffe's humor also rests upon the classic comedic tactic of self-depreciation, joking about how he looks like the sort of person who might wear a sleeping hat, or poking fun at how people assume he's homosexual upon meeting him. The latter story leads into some admittedly deep observations regarding societal views on sexuality and how years ago someone of his height and weight would be assumed to be a player ("a young Frank Sinatra"), but now men who are extremely thin are almost immediately assumed to be gay. These sort of observations hint to a deeper intellect lingering beneath the otherwise rather quiet comedian, but unfortunately the special is too brief for the audience to be allowed much insight into more profound observational humor.

The darkness in his jokes is well executed as well, sometimes vividly depicting a scene as gory as a car slowly running over a person, yet never straying too far into offending the audience or saying something dark enough that will make people squirm with discomfort. There is no malice to his humor, even when its directed at his audience, instead he simply paints himself as an eccentric who is permitting us to see the world the way he does; with claims such as being capable of getting away with murder simply due to how many crime documentaries he watches.

In conclusion, Tony Hinchcliffe: One Shot, is one of many Netflix comedy specials on the surface, but it is far deeper and much more profound than most of the others you've scrolled past without bothering to watch. If you're curious and would like to dip your toe into darker humor without hearing something too graphic or obscene, then this special is a good starting point before venturing into darker territory, I highly recommend it.