COMEDY REVIEW : Men Serve as Fodder at Night of Comediennes

Get eight women in the same room, most of them talking about men, and it could get ugly, right? Wrong. It got funny. And funnier.

Saturday night at the Theatre in Old Town, an all-female comedy revue, “Ladies of the Evening,” starring a wild-maned and frenetic Debbie Tate along with Karen Rontowski and Mary Jo Crowley entertained a sold-out and appreciative crowd for about 2 1/2 hours.

Tate showed why the producers saved the best for last.

Nothing was sacred. She skewered men, women, men, children, men, dating and men.

But she did it so painlessly that half the crowd didn’t seem to notice they had been nicked. No males became upset: Obviously she was talking about the other guys. No man in this crowd was ever a jerk in a relationship. No man in this crowd ever failed to understand his wife or girlfriend.

Tate was a little bluer (and a lot more suggestive) than the comics before her, but her material comes across in good taste. There is substance to her jokes that legitimizes the, er, body language and salty vocabulary. And the crowd loved it.

Tate--who has been a guest on “Oprah” to talk about women in comedy--relies on a high energy level, mannerisms and vocal imitations that help her slip in and out of characters to pull off the gags. Her pace and patter also keep the act moving as she shifts from story to story. Her half-hour on stage was a quick one. You have to see her to believe her.

Also making an impression was Rontowski, a runner-up in 1990’s Funniest Person in San Diego contest, whose humorous outlook on life is similar to Jay Leno’s askew view.

Comparing door-to-door evangelists to a thief, she prefers the thief. “At least a thief leaves.”

“I had a Yugo until I totaled it when I hit a poodle. The poodle is fine.”

Rontowski, who appears regularly at the Comedy Store in La Jolla, keeps her act G-rated and well-paced, constantly stalking the stage as she questions why leaf blowers need to wear a beeper. Are they expecting a leaf emergency somewhere, she wonders?

Or why some ministers don’t communicate with the choir. It seems she was at a service in which the minister told the flock to throw drugs into the river. And throw booze into the river. And throw pornography into the river. “And then the choir sings ‘Shall We Gather by the River.’ ”

Crowley, whose parents have been together so long they’re on their fourth bottle of Tabasco sauce, has been doing stand-up comedy for eight years. Her act reflects it. She is smooth and her timing excellent. She told of an archeological dig going on in San Diego. “They found a $20,000 house.” Or two young relatives, Search and Destroy. “Ever seen chain saws with feet?”

The early acts got their share of laughs, too.

Jere Evans knew it was time to lose weight when her nieces and nephews referred to her as Aunt Arctica.

Anita Milner knew her husband was a sexual dyslexic when he tried to get her into the front seat.

And so it went.

Milner and Crowley spearheaded the production--another show was held Friday in Escondido--and deserve a hand for providing a sober and smoke-free venue for women and fresh comedy.

Milner wants to make this an annual event, drawing on the best local talent each year.

There have been worse ideas. And who knows? By then, maybe Lorian Elbert will have found Mr. Right. Better yet, Dr. Right.