The weakest of the four, as we watch the birth of a comedy genius unfold. This is a more raw type of concert, as we're not in the usual, vast, lively and favorable surroundings. Instead we're in a dark smoking atmosphere, where the daily lunch and dinner specials read in the b.g, as for forty five minutes, it's the usual Pryor comedic routine, but to a litter duller and a bit halted extent. Richard, doing those voices, especially that familiar women's voice, that I love so much, while delivering those fictional stories, Pryor, a really good actor, don't forget, putting voices to em'. There were a few intermittent chuckles, as this was Pryor in his prime, before Hollywood came knocking, and he went onto much bigger success as a comic, so it's good to see him here in his early and humble beginnings. This is a more personal concert one, too, Pryor reflecting, home truth and life experiences, whether drugs, whatever. He also brings up the clap, and potters around with it, exorcising it in classic Pryor style, even taking it up a notch, by adding 'black' to it. He doesn't get the most receptive audience as to his later concerts, where of course, this was early days. Laughs are scattered, some of his material patchy, a lot of his jokes to me, kept falling on deaf or unamused ears. But still it's worth a watch, where we witness a comedy great, and the funniest black man in America. RIP, Richard.
