By JK Clarke . . .

Long-form standup comedy is often compelling because it allows us to get to know the comic better, more intimately than short form and one-liner standup sets. And as is the case with some of the best in the business—Mike Birbiglia being the greatest example—because of intimacy created through detailed, personal stories, we are able to laugh hard at things we wouldn’t ordinarily chuckle at, especially if they’d been delivered in a set of jokes. A comic who can simultaneously recount personal experiences that come off sounding like well-crafted jokes is the true master of this art. Enter Alex Edleman, whose new show, Just For Us (not coincidentally produced by Birbiglia himself), playing through April 20 at the Soho Playhouse, is the funniest harrowing and touching account of a personal experience you’ll hear this year (and perhaps beyond). 

Edelman’s story is about his haphazard attendance at a meeting of white supremacists that he’d been inadvertently invited to on Twitter (a place where he spends a good deal of time, as comics are wont). He probably shouldn’t have attended at all, being Jewish, but we learn through his stories, which spiral off into mini tangents, that he’s the sort of guy who would do just that. Mostly out of curiosity, but also because he’s a risk-taker who’s got a devilish streak of cynicism coupled with a naive belief that people are, at heart, good.

Alex Edelman

En route to the core of the story, we learn a lot about him: he was raised as an Orthodox Jew in Boston; he got to experience Christmas once (much to his young delight) because of a parental mitzvah for a gentile friend; he has an Olympian brother on Israel’s Winter Olympics team (in skeleton) whom he teases relentlessly; and he attends the same synagogue as Jared Kushner (another funny story on its own).

When Edelman wanders off the subway and into a nondescript apartment in Queens for the meeting, what he stumbles upon, much to his surprise, is the utter banality of racism, and the horror that those involved are (mostly) ordinary people like, well . . . him. He even goes so far as to find himself somewhat attracted to one young white supremacist woman. Edelman learns that these bigots are also regular people who engage in mundane activities like puzzles, have quotidian concerns about their personal achievements and like snacks just like the rest of us. And they like him, too! Up to a point.

What he has discovered, in its most mundane form, is what Hannah Arendt called “the banality of evil.” And these folks are incredibly banal. The people he encounters aren’t (at least on the surface) monsters or psychopaths—just kind of stupid people whose fears (not unlike his more intelligent anti-vaxxer friends, to whom he makes a subtle, indirect comparison) drive them to engage with false information. Because, ultimately, confirmation of one’s worst fears is somehow soothing. 

Alex Edelman

On a simple stage, with a simple set (a couple of stools) and everyday clothes that he might wear to go to the movies with a friend, Edelman engages the audience with the bewilderment that he has encountered– the bizarre and illogical. At the show I attended an elderly man in the third row rose suddenly to make his way toward the aisle. Super quick on his feet, and without seeming to interrupt his own story, Edelman asked “political or bathroom?” to the delight of the audience. The gentleman one-upped him with, “The ravages of age!” and scored a huge laugh. Pleased, Edelman shot back with “Save his seat.”

The promising thing about Edelman’s show is that he’s not telling a one-time, nothing-will-top-this story. His Lenny Bruce-like observations of the human condition promise us that there’s more in store from him. And we’ll be looking forward to hearing his take on yet another observation of everyday life. 

Alex Edelman – Just For Us. Through April 30 at The Soho Playhouse (15 Vandam Street, between Varick and Sixth Avenue). www.justforusshow.com – 

JUST ANNOUNCED – the show has been extended at the Greenwich House Theater June 13 – July 23

Photos: Monique Carboni