Comedic powerhouse Maria Bamford opens with: “I always like to make an announcement before we begin the show.  Most of you know what you’ve come to see but sometimes you’ve been brought here by a friend.  And friends can sometimes lead us astray.”  Fortunately, the paths she leads us down are enlightening and altogether enjoyable.

Released Friday, September 23rd, Maria Bamford’s latest comedy special, entitled 20%, is dynamic and smartly delivered.  This instant classic gives us 52 minutes of comedy wisdom through a robust 16 tracks, averaging three minutes apiece.  Bamford recorded this special at UCB Franklin in Los Angeles.

Her comedy is surreal and self-deprecating, well-timed and battle-hardened;  the latest album is the pinnacle of 25 years of slogging through and bombing shows and nervous breakdowns.

Her voice is unmistakable, no matter which of the dozens she employs for the bit.  She’s a vocal gymnast, effortlessly spring-boarding from one voice or vocal style to another, losing no momentum, and always sticking her landing.

I have personally have not been able to stop playing her album since its release; every joke is so expertly layered with vocal texture and diversity, delivered with a practiced flourish, and tickles my funny bone in just the right way.  Maria Bamford has been a staple of my comedy collection for years as she delivers an obviously unique style of comedy that I wager cannot be duplicated.

There’s a trend I’ve noticed with some comedians’ recent releases – their later releases aren’t nearly as strong as their previous albums.  This is seen in comedians such as Craig Shoemaker or Larry the Cable Guy, whose recent releases weren’t as well-received as their previous ones.  But Maria Bamford has perfected her craft and consistently delivers strong, unique performances that are well-received within the comedic community and amongst her fans and non-fans alike.

It’s always the best comedians that develop their own style and proceed to own the shit out of it.

This album, and Maria herself, is infinitely quotable, delivering us gems such as:
“If this is my song, how can I keep from singing it?” (immediately followed by mouth farts)
And: “I’ve become violently positive.  I am aggressively optimistic…”
To: “He’s the one, but that’s the deal-breaker.”
And: “I need to find a way to show them I love them despite all my words and actions.”

The title track “20%” is a candid look at the interactions of mental health and comedy, comedian stigmata vs mental reality.  She ends the track with an honest confession about the cognitive effects her medication has on her ability to perform: “[I] just can’t be as ambitious, you know.   Like right before tonight’s show, I looked in the reflection of my diet Coke can and said, ‘Hey, hey kid.   I wanna see 20%.  If not five.'”

Much of Maria Bamford’s comedy is grounded in her ongoing relationship with her own mental health, her diagnosis of Bipolar-II and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and a dysfunctional family.

Personally, my favorite tracks out of the album are a solid dispute between “Ceramic Dog Bank” and “Role Playing.”

“Ceramic Dog Bank” tells the story of a dog bank Bamford had painted for her father, garishly painted to annoy her mother.  The argument between Mama and Papa Bamford, whose voices are unfailingly parroted by Bamford’s masterfully polyphasic voice, is timeless; who hasn’t argued with a loved one over “their” things having “their” spot?

“Role Playing” encapsulates Bamford’s penchant for strange interactions with her loved ones, in this case, her new husband.  The bit is dark and strange, the perfect reflection of her comedy stylings as a whole.  In the bit, Maria role-plays her mother while her husband (voiced effectively by her) role-plays his mother, and the ensuing interaction leaves the audience (and me) in stitches.  Her brilliant juxtaposition of her mother’s indefatigable optimism with her mother-in-law’s immotile negativity amply demonstrates the talent and professional courage in Bamford’s possession: Unstoppable Force meets Immovable Object.  “I worked for 40 years as a nurse.  I sat on men’s deathbeds as they begged for handjobs with their dying breath,” is the bit’s  unmistakable apex, and with it the victory goes to Immovable Object.

Maria Bamford’s career spans two and a half decades, 50+ television shows, dozens of movies, four web series, and seven specials (including her latest).  She wears the mantle of comedian, actress, voice actress, and mental health patient.

She openly recants stories of her breakdowns, her trips to the ‘psych ward’ and her interactions with the faux-enlightened professionals that surround her in her journey through recovery.

In the track “Going Mental,” Bamford describes one particular interaction with a psychiatrist: “Every moment was feeling unbearable.  And I went in the psych ward and I was interviewed by the psychiatrist.  He said, ‘Why are you here?’
‘Well, I have plans to kill myself.’
He goes ‘Okay, great.’”
The tone, the delivery, the nonchalance of the “okay, great,” is so shocking, so absurd that it completely pulls the piece together.  It is a comment on the seeming impersonal indifference some mental health professionals in Bamford’s life have taken when approaching the comedian as a patient.

Ultimately, 20% is a fantastic album by an extremely talented comedian who has carved her own perfect niche within an already existent niche in comedy.  I shall leave you with my favorite line from 20%:

“And if you’re lucky in life, you get to have those dark times; the relationship equivalent of two weeks in Laughlin, Nevada, bombing three shows a night for hundreds of silent, angry jetskiers.”

Rock on, Maria.  Rock on.

Images via Jesse Grant/Comedy Central, Comedy Central Records