From writing for mainstream staples like “Saturday Night Live” to acting on cult favorites like “The Eric Andre Show,” Hannibal Buress has flexed his laid-back comedy chops since his career began over 20 years ago. After taking a brief detour from comedy to pursue music as the rapper Eshu Tune in 2022, Buress resumed a packed schedule of stand-up dates, performing in clubs all over the country. His current tour brought him back to Jefferson Theater Tuesday for the first time since 2024, and he delivered a hilarious performance that proved his staying power is well deserved.
Before Buress took the stage, Charlottesville comedian Chris Alan offered an opening set with some lively anecdotes and charming crowd work. Alan is known locally as the host of Monday Mic Night, a weekly open-mic comedy show that takes place at The Southern Cafe and Music Hall, and for running Charlottesville’s chapter of Don’t Tell Comedy, which puts on regular events with a mystery lineup of comedians. His short but sweet performance covered material ranging from his recent struggles overcoming a torn Achilles tendon to his misguided dreams of becoming a professional basketball player. Taylor Kuykendall, a Charlottesville resident who attended the show, said that he enjoyed seeing a beloved local comic get the chance to thrive on a larger platform.
“I’ve seen some of his acts before,” Kuykendall said. “I felt like he came out and shined too, which was great.”
At the end of his set, Alan offered a heartwarming introduction for Buress, calling him a personal inspiration who proved that off-kilter Black comedians could succeed in the industry. Upon grabbing the microphone, Buress wasted no time bursting the feel-good bubble, jokingly taking offense to being called weird by his opening act. From there, he began his performance with loose commentary on the political climate. In particular, he lamented that America would be in much better shape if only Donald Trump’s television show “The Apprentice” had been renewed for another season before his first presidential campaign.
After warming up with more topical jokes about economic woes and the ongoing conflict in Iran, Buress commanded the room’s attention for nearly an hour and a half. He paced around the stage with a contagious smile, seamlessly transitioning from one topic to the next with little space for the audience to catch their breath. His punchlines ranged from cuttingly sardonic to utterly absurd, such as when he scolded a 100-year-old tree for getting uprooted by a three-hour storm. On occasion, he veered off into stream-of-consciousness rants that kept the crowd hanging on his every word. Even when he seemed to be going off the rails, he managed to build upon previous jokes in clever ways and draw thematic connections between each part of the set, showcasing an expertise in storytelling and pacing that comes from years of honing one’s craft.
A large portion of his act involved him venting about being trapped in a co-parenting lifestyle after an unexpected pregnancy during the COVID-19 lockdowns in 2020. He approached his regretful relationship with his daughter and former girlfriend with brutal honesty, which elicited a mixture of groans and guilty laughs from the crowd. Those personal anecdotes opened the door for a splash of self-deprecation — he mentioned his regret for showing up on the set of “Spider-Man: Homecoming” with a hangover — as well as a broader dissection of legacy and celebrity culture.
Kuykendall, who said he considers Buress one of his favorite comedians, appreciated the variety of the material compared to Buress’s previous shows at the Jefferson Theater.
“What I like about him is that … he's really kind of mixed up the format a lot,” Kuykendall said. “This felt like a little bit more of a raw performance, like him getting up there and trying out some new comedy. And I love that this felt a little bit more intimate, like he was showing us what he's working on next.”
To keep things fresh throughout the set, Buress used a screen at the back of the stage to show funny text messages he received from his friends and brief video clips that amplified the impact of certain jokes with meme-like outbursts. He also incorporated his love of music into the show several times, such as when he sang along to a catchy Thai pop song that he later learned was government propaganda. Bill Nelson, an attendee from Goochland, Va., mentioned that Buress’s energetic delivery and musical leanings were a pleasant surprise given the mellow nature of many of his on-screen roles.
“I [have seen him on] ‘The Eric Andre Show,’ right?” Nelson said. “But, you know, he was great. He’s peppy … I didn’t know that he sings.”
Those audiovisual elements were used sparingly until the finale, which was the most extravagant, well-rehearsed bit of the show. After stepping off stage for a moment, Buress returned to enact a scenario in which a rap song he wrote called “Tallest Person at This Mexican Party” became his most popular contribution to society. Buress soullessly performed the track — which he described as a terrible inside joke he threw together in a few hours — as if he were a washed-up entertainer at a hypothetical 2046 Virginia State Fair, then sat down to discuss its impact with an imaginary podcast host.
In his final joke of the night, Buress performed with a variety of comedic styles, yet remained grounded in overarching ideas and a signature delivery that remained true to him. It was a strong ending that got huge laughs from the crowd while poetically tying together many of the themes that Buress touched on throughout the performance — namely the desire to leave a lasting impact despite being deeply selfish, cynical and afraid for the future.
Just as quickly as he arrived, Buress thanked Charlottesville for the support and made his way off-stage to a standing ovation. Thanks to his fine-tuned blend of personal candor, hilarious delivery and magnetic charisma, the full-length set went by in the blink of an eye and sent attendees home smiling — and maybe with a couple of catchy tunes rattling around in their heads too.




