COMEDY REVIEW : Crowds Warm to Carrie Snow’s Low-Key Delivery, Folksy Way

Comedian Carrie Snow is like your favorite veteran waitress at the local coffee shop: sufficiently wise, sassy and engaging so that even when she’s not uproariously funny, you still get a kick out of listening to her.

Snow is low-key and conversational. And because she’s been doing stand-up for many years, nearly all vestiges of performance have been removed, leaving her remarkably comfortable and natural. That makes the patter of her shows--like the one Wednesday at the Irvine Improvisation--akin to the things Madge would say while offering to warm up your coffee, hon.

It’s pretty close to an ideal synthesis of persona, delivery and material, because while many of her topics are wholly contemporary, much of her chatty style is a throwback to the approach of earlier female comics: self-deprecating, especially about her weight and her troubled dating life.

But because she projects that warm, casual personality, her act never descends into the annoying, whiny, self-pitying tone so common to that approach.

Her greeting a moment into Wednesday’s show (“My name is Carrie Snow. Please don’t hate me because I’m beautiful; hate me because I’m dating your son”) essentially served as some kind of thesis statement for what she would discuss over the next 40 minutes.

It was smart alecky, ironic and hinted at her interest in young men (“As far as I’m concerned, a kid on a rubber raft is a sailor”), a jumping off point that’s as central to her act as the jokes about her weight.

Not long after, she introduced another major theme--that she’s a compulsive shopper: “I’m an incredible shopper. . . . I like to walk into really big department stores, take out my charge cards and say, ‘Let the games begin.’ ”

The rest of her show was devoted to developing those themes, although there were brief side trips into such other areas as politics and getting braces.

During one of the sections about dating she alluded to “chubby chasers,” which she defined as “guys who try to ply big women with food because--it works.” She doesn’t really oppose the technique “because they don’t have to worry about what’s going to happen if I let myself go.”

A few minutes later, she allowed that she hopes to marry soon (“I’ve got about 4 minutes left to breed”), while analyzing one of the universal stumbling blocks, namely that men find it difficult to commit: “They’re afraid they’re going to get married and then meet the woman of their dreams right at the reception.”

This drew a big laugh, and some applause, at which point she tagged the bit with: “I hate you guys for laughing at that.” That’s another of Snow’s strengths; she frequently utters asides, off-center references and throwaway lines that are at least added bonuses, and sometimes funnier than the main thing she was talking about.

For example, she made a slightly obscure reference at one point, which she felt a woman in the front row didn’t understand. She approached the woman and said: “You’re so sweet. . . . You looked at me with your head to the side, like the RCA dog. If you look at me like that again, I’ll just explain stuff. . . . “

The woman seemed to enjoy the exchange and the audience definitely did. In the same way, because Snow is so non-threatening and likable, the crowd happily accompanied her when she periodically traipsed into rough or bawdy territory.

Despite the winning impact of her spontaneous moments, truth be told, most of her material isn’t great. A too-sizable chunk of her act these days addresses condoms and various aspects of menstrual periods, which are pretty standard stand-up topics--although getting a woman’s point of view puts a slightly different spin on them.

But there are enough other pluses that Snow brings to the stage that, collectively, make her act work pretty well.

Beyond that wonderfully self-mocking, endearing personality, there’s the inflection and rhythm of her delivery, part Valley girl (in the enthusiastic expression), part Snagglepuss (in the way she holds certain words and syllables, especially at the end of sentences).

She also works in some neat phrases, even if the piece itself is so-so. During one about talking on the phone with one of her young boyfriends, she mentioned that “My parents beeped in on Call Rudeness.”

At this point in her career, you’re obviously not going to get Carrie Snow to wait on you at a restaurant, but by her own admission, you’re likely to see her at one. And there’s no question that it would be great fun to have coffee with her and talk--or, more likely, listen .

Headlining an all-clever-comic bill that also includes Gerry Swallow and Matt Weinhold, Snow continues through Sunday at the Improv.

The Improv is at 4255 Campus Drive, Irvine. Showtimes: 8:30 and 10:30 p.m. Friday, 8 and 10:30 p.m. Saturday and 8:30 Sunday. Tickets: $7 to $10. Information: (714) 854-5455.