Maria Bamford review – an unflinching comedian in complete command of every joke and every step

. UK edition

Maria Bamford performs in LA in 2024.
Maria Bamford performs in LA in 2024. Photograph: Matt Winkelmeyer/Getty Images for Netflix

Bamford draws us in with bursts of manic physical expression and never stops poking fun at her own quirks and compulsions

‘Why did Americans decide to elect a dictator for a second time?” a freshly post-somersaulted Maria Bamford asks her audience. One word: money. In her new show, soon to embark on a tour around North America, she digs into the seductions, benefits and complications of cash for herself, her friends and the anxious culture that surrounds them. Despite inheriting what she calls “generational wealth” after the early deaths of both her parents, longtime presences in her act, Bamford still approaches the world with a fundamentally economic mindset.

That’s the idea on paper. In practice, Bamford has never been one for clean narrative arcs. Instead, she draws us in with bursts of manic physical expression: she runs in tiptoed circles before dropping fully outstretched to the floor, all while holding the mic. Bamford is a comedian in complete command of every joke, every step.

As ever, mental health threads through the set. Her slight tremor is referenced early on: “Thank God you’re addressing it,” she roars, self-deprecatingly. When healthcare isn’t an option, she suggests turning to podcasts for help. In one animated sequence, she slips into the voice of therapist Esther Perel, folding sponsored ads into the language of clinical wisdom. Elsewhere, she references her work as a suicide helpline operator, the loss of her home in the LA fires, and recalls being in the hospice room when her mother took her last, not exactly peaceful breath.

It’s a typically unflinching Bamford turn, one that never stops poking fun at her own quirks and compulsions. On stage, she is a natural chameleon, shifting from her famously timid, squeaky delivery to larger-than-life characters. Best of all is when she slips into the voice and physicality of a middle-class white woman: she speaks as if wine-drunk and convinced she is about to unveil something profound.

Is it her most focused work? Probably not. But she remains a gloriously absurd and rapid-fire presence. “This is a job,” she says of being a comedian, still in disbelief. To us, though, her careful, totally distinctive craft is unmistakable.

Maria Bamford is on tour in North American until 13 of December.