I had the pleasure of seeing Rex Navarette perform here in Seattle the other night. It’s been a good 5 years since he was here last – at the Filpino Community Center, of all places. A nice, intimate gathering with food lingering in the back and Rex on a crappy sound system being just a few feet from your cackling face. Just imagine, a Pista sa Nayon crowd tighly packed like sardines into the FCC ballroom in the middle of June, literally shoulder to shoulder with your neighbor and laughing hysterically upon a sea of smiling red faces and hot breath being laughed out into the very little bit of air left in the room.

This time was quite the opposite – a glamorous live recording at the 800+ seat Kane Hall with stricly no photographs allowed while it snowed outside. Maybe it was the long, drawn-out performances before he got on, or the disconnect between the performer and the audience, or that I’ve just become more critical, or the fact that his set seemed cut short – I just didn’t find myself as giggly as the last time.

It probably started with the host impersonating Manny Pacquiao. I don’t know what is so damn funny about a man from the Philippines speaking English with a *gasp!* Filipino accent? I mean, we poke fun that it sounds so stereotypically Filipino – but Rex begging for Pacquiao not to speak into the mic after his fights is a joke. I guess I never really understood why people think a Filipino accent is so hilarious – especially when what’s being said has nothing to do with anything Filipino. Just speaking in it about anything is funny to people. Unfortunately.

The art of stand-up comedy has always been a fascinating one to me – and a real fan/supporter of that will recognize that all good stand-up comedy is political. Whether we like to admit it or not. Saying it is political doesn’t take the comedy out of it, though. It’s actually what makes it funny. So while Rex talked about the Filipinos answering your customer service calls to Expedia.com and WaMu, the white males travelling to the Philippines to “find their one and true love” and the bittersweet ritual of packing a Balikbayan box – I recognize the politics behind all of that and had a deeper appreciation for the comedy. I suppose it was tougher to enjoy, especially when the other 750 people in the audience were laughing at his jokes for a different reason.

But Rex was still funny as always. Among Edwin San Juan and Happy Slip – we don’t have much Filipino comedians in the spotlight, and I know there’s more out there. So I’ll give credit where credit is due and give Rex the props for showing Seattle a good time and for always repping our badly-browned selves.