2330 Telegraph Ave, Oakland
August 20, 2025
“Exactly what I signed up for– some weird puppet shit. And that’s what I got.”
The “Absurd Psychedelic Long Form Puppetry” duo Liz Howls and Servant Baby, aka Happpy Accccdent, screeched into Oakland Wednesday evening in a 20-plus-year-old van—sans air conditioning—to close out a six-week tour of adult puppetry. They’d made a stop in town back in April, which I missed, so catching this show was non-negotiable as far as I was concerned. I heard this sentiment echoed by several other attendees as well, before and after the show, and was thrilled to be in such good company.
Host venue Thee Stork Club, where patrons are carded before even touching down on the vinyl floors, was an excellent choice for the controlled chaos in miniature and maxed-out forms the duo brought to town. Fifty odd folks, or rather about fifty odd fellows of all ages over twenty one, filled the bar’s side room, taking seats on the questionable-looking tiles without hesitation. We were here for the strangeness, so what’s a little extra stickiness? (Chimed one such patron, already seated: “I dunno, the carpet looks less clean than the floor.”) Since reopening a few years back, the dive is full of kitsch and kook and friendly to acts, and patrons, who prefer scragglier paths.
He gets no respect, no respect at all!
After a set of brief acts in fun-size — peep the teeny skeleton absolutely crushing it with his Catskills-esque schtick— the baby entered the frame, and things got bigger, stranger, and sillier.
Mmm, skin milk.
Howls expertly juggled no fewer than three actions at most times, live-projecting, moaning, and puppeteering all at once. Physicality played into even the smallest of her stringed performances, but really shone near the end, in the final, laborious act of skin milking.
Surreal sound-scaping, a super Big Gulp and giant drumstick, an enormous camera-clicking eyeball, and Saturday morning cartoons featured heavily, as did a virus, Clark, and working shit out. Did I get it? I’m not sure, but sure did enjoy myself, as did the highly excitable crowd. Theirs is trash art at a high level, experiential and existential, fully ridiculous and intended to charm, if also disarm. Can’t wait for you to come back.
The virus is coming, close your mouth.
