I'm Still Here...Damn It!

I'm Still Here...Damn It!:

May I Kiss You on the Lips, Miss Sandra?
(1998), Sandra Bernhard

   Reviewing Sandra Bernhard feels a little like a trap. Her one-woman show, I'm Still Here...Damn It!, reopened in San Francisco tonight at the start of a somewhat vaguely defined "national tour" and following a "highly acclaimed" run on Broadway. Ms. Bernhard is a sort of Queen of the Hip, which she dishes out as well as shoots from. Offering less than humble obeisance to her talent might render one (gasp!) less than hip. Guess we will have to take the risk.
   (Aside: Is it unhip to use the term hip? What's in? What's out? Are you as tired as CV is of these artificial and superficial measures of taste and status? Wired, with its "wired" and "tired" lists - tired. Out with its godawful "elect" and "eject" lists - tired. Sandra could probably fill out the examples; she does a whole routine on magazines with some lovely digs at Tina Brown. Uh....you do remember Tina Brown?)
    Bernhard is a devoted observer of the pop scene which provides most of the grist for her satire mill. In spite of the ungentle language in which much of it is expressed, her satire actually is quite gentle; she hits at the lighter aspects of public personalities, often with real wit, finding the funny heart of vulnerability in the postures of public figures as disparate as Princess Diana, Mother Theresa, Whitney Houston, Cher. Pop music stars predominate amongst the targets, so your appreciation of some of her shtick will depend on your familiarity with those artists.
   Bernhard dishes from a somewhat schizoid stance which seems at the same time to idolize the very people she's lampooning. It's kind of camping with air mattresses. Out there, but cushioned. (Nothing wrong with that.) When she is on, which is often, she can be very funny, indeed. She is also a skillful actress and has a powerful singing voice, mixing up her monologue with a variety of songs, backed up by a band of five. (And, as Midler would have said, "Isn't she lookin' good!!")
    Unfortunately, Bernhard simply seemed somewhat underprepared for her opening night in San Francisco (after two nights of previews). There seemed to be enough material for a good tight, one hour show, but this one goes on for an hour and a half. There were too many dead moments, and her response then of heckling the audience for approval was more embarrassing than helpful. Reading to the audience in an evening of essentially light cabaret is usually a mistake and it was here. Memorize your stuff, girl!
    Several of her songs were quite good; others fell flat or just loud with an unbalanced sound system that left her backup singers (in the band) inaudible. And her finale number, for which she makes her one change of costume, is too little, too late and utterly anticlimactic. Problems here in both the writing and the direction.
    Still, Bernhard is an interesting character and a skillful performer. When the material works in this show, it is great fun. Fans will find plenty to enjoy. But, really, if Sandy is complaining that San Francisco needs to clean its streets, San Francisco can complain that we expect a more polished outing - direct from Broadway.