Press Images from New York Magazine and The New Yorker

It’s certainly nice to get press reviews for our shows.  But getting pictures and listings  in great publications’ “what’s hot” sections and calendars is nothing to sneeze at either.  Thanks to NY Magazine and The New Yorker for drawing some notice and attention to our current Tard Core show at Jo’es Pub in the listings we have included below.

unitard New yorkerny-matrix

Press Images from NY Mag and The New Yorker

It’s wonderful to get noticed and reviewed!  But when a great publication includes your latest show in a “what’s hot” listing or page image, that’s nothing to sneeze at either.  Here are images from the latest issues of THE NEW YORKER and NEW YORK MAGAZINE that give some needed notice and attention to our TARD CORE show at Joe’s Pub.

unitard New yorker

ny-matrix

New Review From Musto, OUT.com

A TARD DAY’S NIGHT

A polyamorous couple comprises one of the sketches in Unitard’s show Tard Core (There Are No Safe Words) at Joe’s Pub, but that sort of thing is mercilessly skewered, as per usual with this troupe. (“We have rules. You can cum in their mouth, but you can’t hold hands.”) In the riotously funny show—which will have you spitting out your overpriced wine—the comic trio also lampoons people who troll Whole Foods for tofu key lime pies; Facebook addicts who are horrified that someone else posted a photo of their breakfast burrito and got more likes than their own inane posts; and Russian hackers who discover that Hillary’s password is “Monicasucks.”

The show starts with the long running trilogy of terror—David Ilku, Nora Burns, and Mike Albo—as folk singers musically lamenting what’s happened to New York City. (“Where have all the porn shops gone? Turned into Soul Cycles and nail salons.”) But while the edge-depletion of the new NYC is one of their favorite targets, Unitard also makes fun of anyone who whines about it too much. A satirical Mod Squad for the new age, they hold a mirror to our pretensions while carving up soulless real estate agents, fruity designers who’ve crash landed on QVC, and the desperate Ann Coulter, who has a cell phone battery for a heart. Best of all are the Narcissists Olympics sketch and one in which the comics are hemorrhoids popping up in Trump’s butt and dodging all the fatty foods. No one is better at satirizing up-to-the-minute foibles than these three kooks. I would just add an 11 o’clock sketch probing some really dark pathos and despair, just to bring things to a different level, but having nonstop hilarity is nothing to kvetch about.

– Mchael Musto, OUT.com