We saw the Trailer Park Boys at the Paramount Theater in Oakland last Saturday night. That first sentence will surely divide my reading audience in two. Those who never heard of the TPB may think it’s a rock band or other singing troupe, and they would be wrong. Those who are familiar with the TPB will be saying to themselves, “Dear Lord. How will you ever describe it and do it justice? This is a family newspaper.”
The “Trailer Park Boys” is a Canadian mockumentary comedy filmed in Nova Scotia that has been on the air since 2001. It follows the absurd antics of a group of trailer park derelicts and ex-cons as they try and survive on their wits and petty crime schemes while drinking and smoking their way through life. The show doesn’t glorify decadent behavior, but it deals with it constantly in hilarious fashion.
The show ran for seven seasons on Canadian Showcase television ending in 2008. Then in 2014 the guys created the YouTube Channel Swearnet and produced five more seasons. They also have three full-length movies, “The Movie” in 2006, “Countdown to Liquor Day” in 2009, and “Don’t Legalize It!” in 2014.
The main characters, Julian, Ricky, Bubbles, Randy, Jim Lahey, Cory and Trevor, and J-Roc, are always up to no good. Julian is the brains; Ricky is the illiterate bad boy; Bubbles is a sight-impaired cat-loving homeless guy that was ditched by his parents as a child and lives in a shed; Randy is a cheeseburger-loving obese gay man living with Trailer Park Supervisor and nemesis Jim Lahey, the biggest drunk of them all and always out to catch the boys in their misdeeds; Cory and Trevor do all the dirty work with no respect; and J-Roc is a white rapper with a jive tongue and delusions of grandeur.
Non-stop profanity, crime, drug use, alcohol abuse, illiteracy, and bad parenting is all put up on the screen straight-faced in jest for viewers’ enjoyment. Is there redeeming social value? Sure. It lampoons folly.
Granted, it is the lowest of low-brow humor and appeals to only certain audience types, like myself. Susan, for example, doesn’t like it, doesn’t get it, leaves the room when I put it on Netflix – where all the seasons are available for streaming – and only went to the Oakland Paramount where two tickets cost us $288 plus a night at the Marriott – because she loves me.
I only came across the Trailer Park Boys a few years ago while surfing Netflix for something stupid and brainless to watch. They popped to the top. I watched three episodes, chuckled a few times, and moved on. Meh.
Then last year, one late night in the living room after Susan had zonked, I switched from the Hallmark Channel to YouTube and watched their second movie, “Countdown to Liquor Day.” Alone in the dark I laughed so hard and so often I had to keep rewinding the tape to catch what I missed.
Funny philosophy: Humor is often based on surprise, which is why we seldom want to hear the same jokes twice. We can listen to a favorite song a thousand times, but jokes wear out on the retelling. The ironic exception is the running gag, which becomes funnier the more often we see it. That is why my first viewing of three Season One episodes years ago fell flat on me. Three episodes was not long enough for me to catch onto the running gags.
Once I watched the feature-length film the lights came on in my head, granted they were mostly strobe and black lights. So many running gags. Julian always holds a rum and Coke. Ricky’s impulses always cause trouble. Bubbles loves cats above all else. Randy never wears a shirt. Cory and Trevor’s high-fives are always left hanging. Little kids throw bottles at them. The list goes on.
Walking to the Paramount along Broadway in Oakland, I had no idea of the size of their fan base. I didn’t know if we’d be alone with the crickets or thrust into a mob scene of frenzied revelers. It was the latter.
The line was so long, it split in two and ran up both directions of Broadway. I thought it would be mostly guys, but saw lots of couples, though only a few groups of girls only. Susan thinks the girls were appeasing their hubbies and boyfriends out of loyalty like she was doing. I talked to a lot of people in line, and they were all diehard.
There was a lot of whooping. Like coyotes and wolves under a yellow moon, one whoop led to the whole pack breaking into howls. Then the doors opened. Many lined up at the souvenir stand and at the bar for a rum and Coke before finding their seats. When Julian emerged holding his signature dark cocktail, hundreds of duplicates were raised skyward, with only a few spills.
The performers stayed in character end to end. They did skits. They played Family Feud with audience members. They had a fat belly competition to see who could beat Randy. They had a ball squeezing contest. The crowd loved it. There was a lot of whooping.
The show was booked as their Hello Santa Tour, but then the beloved actor who played Jim Lahey, Trailer Park Supervisor, John Dunsworth died at 71 in October. The tour was rescheduled. The night ended with one sincere moment, a final toast to John. Much whooping.
We strolled back to our hotel. The night was alive. The streets were busy. Susan said she had fun, being with me.

Steve Gibbs is a retired Benicia High School teacher who has written a column for The Herald since 1985.

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