reunions

The State Hasnā€™t Changed. God Bless Them.

Ken Marino, Kevin Allison, and David Wain onstage. Photo: Jeremy Wein

Thomas Lennon enters the dressing room where seven of his cohorts in the sketch-comedy troupe The State are hanging out, recovering from the first night of a three-night run at the Palladium Times Square and preparing to perform again in 90 minutes. He has bad news. ā€œThe testing of the good smoke machine is, they think, what set off the smoke alarm,ā€ he says, referencing an incident that interrupted rehearsal earlier on this Tuesday afternoon. ā€œSo we donā€™t get to use it. Itā€™s a bit of a bummer.ā€

Annoyed murmurs and at least one ā€œWhat the fuck?ā€ ripple around the room. Fog appears in the opening of the show, which leads into ā€œThe Jew, the Italian and the Redhead Gay,ā€ a send-up of stereotype-perpetuating sitcoms and one of the more popular sketches from the groupā€™s influential ā€™90s MTV series, also called The State. Later, the fog accentuates the arrival of Barry (Lennon) and Levon (Michael Ian Black), two cheeseballs who became quasi-famous on the original series by trying to make utter nonsense sound sensual (ā€œAwwww, yeahā€). Back in the ā€™90s, Barry and Levon celebrated the existence of $240 worth of pudding. In the version updated for The Stateā€™s ā€œBreakinā€™ Hearts and Dippinā€™ Ballsā€ tour that stopped in New York this week, they seductively try to sell reversible mortgages.

If thereā€™s no fog in either of those moments, the audience likely wonā€™t notice. But that doesnā€™t matter to these sketch perfectionists who have spent more than three decades treating absurdity with the seriousness a brain surgeon usually reserves for the operating table. Their MTV show, which ran for four seasons in 1994 and 1995, treated the utterly silly with an almost intellectual, committed rigor, apparent in sketches like ā€œThe U.S. Menā€™s Bikini Thong Rollerblading Team,ā€ about a group of male Rollerbladers who perform classic dramas of the 1930s and ā€™40s while skating in, yes, bikini thongs (itā€™s slyly referenced in the current live show), or ā€œTenement,ā€ reprised for this tour, in which Kerri Kenney-Silver, Ken Marino, and Joe LoTruglio perform a bleeped version of a gritty stage drama (ā€œDarn me to h-e-double-hockey sticks!ā€). Arriving on television in the wake of The Kids in the Hall, The State stood proudly as the work of subversive Gen-Xers ā€” simultaneously lowbrow and smart, with an electrifying chemistry between the members of its ensemble.

That chemistry is still crackling, which is why, after a minute or so of lamenting the loss of the fog, these kids who found each other at New York University turn the situation into an opportunity to riff. ā€œDo you want me to dress up as fog? And just come dance around?ā€ offers Marino, the State player whose character, Louie, is responsible for the ā€œdippinā€™ ballsā€ reference in the tourā€™s name. ā€œYes,ā€ Lennon immediately responds. ā€œYou come out [adopts spooky voice]: ā€˜Iā€™m Old Man Foo-oog.ā€ Theyā€™re joking. But also: Marino would do it. Because thatā€™s the other thing about the guys (and one woman) in The State: Theyā€™re willing to try just about anything to get a laugh.

The 11 members ā€” Marino, Lennon, Black, Kenney-Silver, LoTruglio, Michael Patrick Jann, Kevin Allison, David Wain, Michael Showalter, Robert Ben Garant, and Todd Holoubek ā€” have collaborated so frequently over the years that their Wikipedia page includes a chart tracking all the times their creative paths have overlapped, whether in the Wet Hot American Summer franchise; Cops send-ups Reno 911 and Reno 911: Miami; the movie The Ten, co-written by Marino and Wain, who also directed; and various other scripted cable or streaming series, including Childrenā€™s Hospital, Party Down, and Burning Love. But due to constantly conflicting schedules, itā€™s rare for all or even most of them to reunite specifically as The State. It has happened on a few one-off occasions ā€” in 2008 at Upright Citizens Brigade in L.A.; in 2009 at SketchFest in San Francisco; in 2014 at Festival Supreme, also in L.A.; and on a Zoom call for charity in 2020. But they havenā€™t toured together since the MTV show ended its run. There was an extra full-circle nature to the New York performances because the Palladium, located at 1515 Broadway, shares the same address with the former MTV offices that once functioned as The Stateā€™s headquarters.

Three of the original members ā€” Showalter, Garant, and Holoubek ā€” were not able to join the group in New York or on their other scheduled dates in Boston, L.A., San Francisco, Washington, D.C., Chicago, and Seattle. (More are slated to be announced.) But the others have put together a lively variety show that includes multiple costume changes (Kenney-Silver notes that she wears ten different wigs), musical numbers, tons of lighting cues, and, in between sketches, videos from their MTV era, including pieces from You Wrote It, You Watch It, the MTV sketch-comedy series hosted by Jon Stewart that gave The State kids their first television break. The sets are pared down on purpose so they can be changed quickly ā€” thereā€™s a few tables or chairs, if that, in each sketch, and the backdrops are projected onto the video screen behind them. But the pace of it is brisk, and feels even brisker to the actors when eight of them are in the wings trying to strip in and out of ensembles with only two assistants to help them.

ā€œThe show is almost too big,ā€ says Lennon.

ā€œItā€™s tiny compared to Les Miz,ā€ deadpans LoTruglio. ā€œBut thatā€™s about it.ā€

The go-for-broke quality of the performance went over well during the first Palladium performance on Monday night, where the audience included parents, spouses, aunts, cousins, and siblings of several members of The State as well as actors like Becky Ann Baker, Dylan Baker, and Paul Rudd. Outside the Palladium before the show, I asked Rudd, a co-star of Wet Hot American Summer and longtime FOTS ā€” thatā€™s Friend of The State ā€”Ā if he was excited to see this big reunion. His perfectly sarcastic response: ā€œWas anyone really demanding this?ā€

Some hard-core State fans ā€” who, based on a scan of the audience, looked a lot like the comedians they had come to see: middle-aged and white ā€” actually were demanding this, though, and they cheered as soon as certain recognizable characters strolled onstage. That included Louie, Marinoā€™s life of the party who, in a State sketch repeated almost verbatim, crashes the Last Supper by shouting his signature catchphrase, ā€œI want to dip my balls in it!,ā€ which, coincidentally, is also exactly what happens in the Bible; the Tape Kids (Black, Kenney-Silver, and LoTruglio) ā€” people with Scotch tape plastered across their faces, obviously ā€” who provided the Palladiumā€™s ā€œsafety instructionsā€; the aforementioned Barry and Levon (an excited woman sitting behind me yelled out for $240 worth of pudding almost as soon as they showed up); two frogs (Lennon and Kenney-Silver) who sing an updated version of ā€œFroggy Jamboreeā€; Allisonā€™s Taco Man, a mailman who insists on delivering quality tacos instead of the actual mail; and the entire ensemble in the sublimely ridiculous ā€œPorcupine Racetrack,ā€Ā a musical number set ā€” and I canā€™t believe I need to explain this ā€” at a porcupine racetrack. Lennon, who wrote the sketch in the ā€™90s a half-hour before a pitch meeting, even appeared in the same porcupine costume he wore on MTV, a prickly ensemble recently rediscovered in Michael Patrick Jannā€™s basement.

Photo: Jeremy Wein

While the performances went well, there were some technical glitches during the first show, including a couple of set changes that took place in complete silence because the Spin Doctorsā€™ ā€œTwo Princesā€ didnā€™t play when it was supposed to. ā€œLast night was our Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark,ā€ Lennon says. As a comedic perfectionist, he is exaggerating. It was not that bad.

Even The Stateā€™s deep cuts were well received, particularly Allisonā€™s ā€œHalf-Time Hilarity,ā€ an extremely sexual pep talk delivered in a football locker room ā€” ā€œYou see this beard on my face? You can consider this your personal fucking parking spaceā€ ā€”Ā that originally appeared on The Stateā€™s album, Comedy for Gracious Living, recorded in 1996 but never released by Warner Bros. And then there was Doug, the teen slacker who says ā€œIā€™m outta heeeereā€ and is, arguably, the most recognizable character born from The State. He was originally played by Showalter, who couldnā€™t be there to reprise the role. In a move emblematic of the new life the show brings to the familiar, The State circumvented this problem Monday night by inviting an audience member, a guy named Rich who works in real estate, to play the part, then berated him repeatedly for not getting it right. Rich seemed to love it.

Despite all the concerns about tech problems and faulty fog machines, the fans are what keeps The State engaged and excited to perform. Backstage on Tuesday, LoTruglio talks about a friendā€™s boyfriend who saw Mondayā€™s show despite not being familiar with the MTV series. ā€œIt was clear there was such a history, and watching how much fun we had ā€” a rare group of people who have known each other that long and have been doing it for this long ā€” made it very entertaining for him to watch.ā€

Black, reclining on a sofa, jumps in: ā€œI honestly donā€™t remember your name, and I feel horrible.ā€

Kenney-Silver, speaking very slowly, tries to help: ā€œJoe.ā€

ā€œJoe, the little Italian guy thatā€™s always going on and on,ā€ Lennon adds. ā€œThe little Italian guy.ā€

Marino, the other, taller Italian guy chimes in: ā€œHeā€™s on Barney Miller.ā€

LoTruglio corrects him: ā€œIt was Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Thatā€™s a common mistake.ā€

They could do this all day, and honestly, they probably do. But sometimes they allow themselves to speak from the heart about how it feels to still be cracking ball-dipping jokes with their best friends. ā€œWhen Iā€™m in the room with these guys, it feels like weā€™re back in the ā€™90s just hanging out,ā€ says Marino. ā€œThese are my brothers and sister, and itā€™s a beautiful, special, magical experience.ā€

ā€œI couldnā€™t sleep the night before [Mondayā€™s show] at all,ā€ Kenney-Silver adds. ā€œThe only thing I could equate it to was: Tomorrowā€™s Christmas. It felt like Christmas.ā€

The State Hasnā€™t Changed. God Bless Them.