The Ovulator at Nutcracker's?

July 18, 1997

I have to admit I was intrigued. I don't get to spend every Sunday evening with The Ovulator. And I was really hoping this wouldn't be another run-of-the-mill stand up routine peppered with a few PMS jokes. I'd love to see a local, independent comedy club like Nutcracker's make a go of it. If owner John Tenuto continues booking special engagements like Kelly Willett's, he may well buck the current stand-up club trend here and stick around for the long haul.

Kelly's material was fairly typical - weight, sex, marriage, etc. - but delivery truly seems to be everything because she had this crowd chortling, guffawing, and occasionally roaring with laughter. Her antics on stage ("I do my own choreography"), her facial expressions and contortions, and her songs and limericks helped turn a regular stand-up routine into a show well worth the modest admission charge.

She started with a song titled, "I Ain't Skinny!" and one-liners like, "I'm not Miss America...I'm North America" and "I didn't fight my way to the top of the food chain to eat friggin' vegies" drew instant laughs. She saved her ovulator routine until the end when she donned a pink housecoat and a shower cap and then rimmed her lips with crimson lipstick.

I've never seen a comic work harder on stage. At one point she remarked, "I'm as worn out as a cucumber in a convent," and while the crowd laughed, I think many people were impressed with her energy and intensity throughout the show. Sunday evening might not seem like the best night to head out to a comedy show, but Nutcracker's was full for The Ovulator. If this was a typical Sunday night for them, I say tape The Simpsons and King of the Hill and check out Nutcracker's for yourself.

Anna Sheldon
I'm a transplanted Detroiter who's slowly (and, I admit, a bit reluctantly) growing fond of Central Florida. I miss the Great Lakes, apple orchards, snow and six months of bug-free living, but I'm really getting used to the daily (almost) sunshine, the lack of slush and salt, pothole-free tourist-funded roads and not paying any state income tax. The thing that makes me feel most like a Central Florida native: In the two years I've lived here, despite the outrageous number of "visitors" I've had, I've managed to avoid going to the Magic Kingdom.