Strange can be a great thing, especially when it comes to Deep Ellum. But strange the way comedian Michael Che meant it repeatedly Saturday night at Dada wasn't high praise, and he totally had a point.
Bundled up in a beanie and Dallas hoodie, the Saturday Night Live cast member took the intimidating stage and immediately seemed to be thrown by venue-specific oddities.
That internal monologue had to go something like: What is this place, exactly? Why was I shivering outside in frigid temperatures waiting to be introduced?
Whatever the case, Che happily took it in stride in front of the packed house.
It is kind of hard to ignore people standing close enough to touch you on stage and Che — like the electricky funny opener, Cipha Sounds, had before him — innocently worked the fans upfront. They seemed to confuse that acknowledgment as an invitation to perform.
Big mistake.
His shows previous nights in Austin, Houston and New Orleans didn't have what Dada had Saturday night, said Billy.
Billy was the puffy-vest clad SMU alum closest to the stage. And the Carlton Banks doppleganger really made a mess of things. I'll spare you the play-by-play, but his frequent off-mic interruption pulled the show into the weeds.
Friends of his cheered his uniquely-privileged heckling as others in the back grew tired of his sometimes minutes-long asides and jeered for his removal.
The most memorable takeaway came about halfway through Che's hourlong set: After many funny start and stops, the "Weekend Update" anchor was hilariously rolling through Trump material when Billy interrupted again. Who knows or cares what it was about; it was completely off-topic. With "Return of the Mack" bleeding through the walls of the bar next door, Che wondered aloud if he was in the Twilight Zone. Looking around for solutions, he stumbled upon the solution most had: "Let's drink."
Amid the awkwardness, an impromptu Q&A allowed fans to scream questions at Che about everything from his thoughts on Texas to his favorite color. Che kindly curtailed that tangent, saying, "These aren't good questions."
In the few moments where Che went uninterrupted, he gave a glimpse of how special the night could have been.
One pitch was to have white women fight ISIS because they are true gangsters who conquered Brooklyn. Eventually, sex seemed like an easy way to get back on track, but the off-kilter answers for simple questions only made things weirder.
The night came to a close with some guy's dad on stage with Che for his birthday. As he poured shots, for dad, the kids, and fans up front — including Billy — he quipped, "I love like 93 percent of you."
I don't even blame him.
