Gerry Howell's Incubation Hour

Gerry Howell likes facts. He says he has seven. For example, did you know that Egypt's pyramids aren't triangles because you've got to be 3D to be a king or queen? Makes sense when you think about, but it never really crossed my mind.

I stopped recording especially innovative non-sequiturs; the last note I made, for some reason, was "thin arms". His is observational comedy of a sort, but the world he's observing is different from the one most people inhabit. It's as though there's a switch in his head permanently set to "Hedberg".

Weird mumbled pronouncement follows weird mumbled pronouncement. Some are just weird, but most are funny. One isn't usually enough to elicit a proper laugh on its own, but they have a cumulative effect, and a run of three or more weird and funny pronouncements leaves you feeling oddly detached from reality; you awaken faintly surprised at the enormous grin you're wearing.

However, this accounts for only about 40 minutes of Incubation Hour (the title refers to the theme of the show, which is eggs, approximately). The rest of the hour is taken up with a strange playlet, chopped into two halves. It's a conversation an estranged couple are having about love, with Howell playing the woman's part in the first segment, the man's in the second. Relying too much on Howell's own weird, mumbled commentary, ("For good actin', the secret is, maybe, wearin' a jacket") this part of the show is only occasionally funny. And at 60 minutes, this egg is a little over-incubated.