Known as the ”Queen of the Insult Comics,” Pudgy now spends most of her time back East instead of in her native Chicago. And that is fitting, not only because a place such as Atlantic City (or to give that town its other name,
”Las Vegas By the Sea”) is an ideal spot for her high-roller act but also because most of the Rush Street venues where Pudgy got her start no longer are in existence.
In fact, even though she gives it her own special twist, Pudgy`s form of humor speaks of an earlier day–an era when show business was at once blaring and innocent and everybody was out to have one heck of a good time no matter how ugly tomorrow`s hangover might be.
But while a few extremely well-lubricated customers were in attendance Friday night at Arnie`s Wicker Room, where Pudgy will be performing through March 1, they seemed to be outnumbered by the diet-soft drink and bottled-water crowd–an audience that presents Pudgy with some special problems, if only because it lacks the old-fashioned innocence that her act apparently requires.
Unlike Don Rickles, Pudgy doesn`t indulge in celebrity-mongering; nor does she spew out her insults in a hit-or-miss manner and then attempt to take it all back by setting herself up as a closet humanitarian.
Instead, she constructs elaborate fantasies of spite–choosing likely targets from around the room and labeling her victims with uncanny speed and zeal. Then, once these ”characters” have been established, Pudgy really begins to work them over, cross-cutting from each previously tagged person or group to the next until it seems that they, not she, are doing the talking.
Friday night, for instance, her chief punching bag was a woman in the front row who was wearing a large and rather garish purple hat. Asked what she did for a living, this woman replied, ”I`m an art dealer.” Whereupon Pudgy instantly turned to the woman`s male escort and said, ”So you`re Art,”
before she garnished that with some remarks that can`t be repeated in a family newspaper.
Then, a little later on, there was another woman, who identified herself as a pharmacist.
”Oh, I see,” said Pudgy, ”you don`t have time for your hair” (as the audience now noticed that this victim has a rather frizzy permanent). ”You just take a Valium and it looks fine.”
Well, maybe you had to be there, because the speed with which Pudgy`s mind and mouth work is at least half the fun. But again, if memory serves, all of this used to be a mite fresher and more tangy when most of Pudgy`s audience didn`t know what was going to happen. And, indeed, in the show rooms of Atlantic City, such conditions probably are the norm.
Pudgy`s husband, vocalist Mike Cardella, opened the show with a group of five songs. While there can be no doubt that he has improved since the last time I saw him, about a year-and-a-half ago, one also feels sure that if Cardella weren`t married to Pudgy, he would not be opening this, or any other, show.
PUDGY
At Arnie`s Wicker Room, 1050 N. State St., Wednesdays through Saturdays through March 1. Wednesday and Thursday at 8 p.m., Friday at 8 and 10:30 p.m. and Saturday at 8 and 10:30 p.m. and Midnight. $10 cover charge Wednesday and Thursday, $12 cover Friday and Saturday. Phone 266-4800.
