Bill Bailey: Part Troll

It’d be easy to describe the standup comedy of Britain’s Bill Bailey with adjectives: Zany. Surreal. Hairy, even. Just as it’d be easy to try and quantify his live act by concocting a mashup of other comics. (A smidgen of Eddie Izzard and a dash of Billy Connolly, with Sam Kinison’s . . . um, hairiness?) Easy . . . yet futile, and you wouldn’t be doing him a shred of justice, because when it comes to the crunch there’s no one quite like Bill Bailey. Wild-eyed and sweetly daft, he’ll get you giggling over the absurdities of fox hunting or exactly why people seem to find it such a transcendent experience to swim with dolphins (“They’re just mocking your attempts to swim!”), and then whip out the keyboard on you. You might be forgiven for shifting in your seat and expecting an onslaught of joke-to-joke prop-comedy . . . and then he knocks out a Beethoven parody that knocks you on your ass, it’s so hysterical and note-perfect at the same time. Bailey lands at UCLA for three weeks, his West Coast U.S. debut, and if that doesn’t call for a resounding rendition of his classic “I Will Not Look At Titties For A Year,” then I don’t know what does. At UCLA’s Macgowan Little Theater, April 5-23; Wed.-Thurs., 8 p.m., $20, $7 students; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m., $25, $10 students; Sun., 7 p.m., $20, $7 students. (310) 825-2101.

—Nicole Campos

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