We are soooo dedicated. We’re in paradise. Hawaii, to be exact. Waikiki, to be exacter. And, even though we’re burned on the outside by the sun from hiking up to Makapu’u Lighthouse (the HARD way, no the easy way!), and we’re burned on the inside (exhausted from yesterday’s 14-hour travel day), we’ve managed to provide you with analysis of Last Comic Standing.

Oh, sure, we asked Dan French to do it for us, but French is one of our all-time most popular columnist and the man behind IWorkWithStandups.com, a wicked good, new comedy writing and consulting business.

On with the analysis:

Last Comic Standing, Episode 9– go!

Wait, stop! Did they actually show Eliza Shlesinger in her pink underwear in the first 30 seconds? And Jeff Dyle shirtless? And then Eliza in her pink underwear again? Finally, after all these years, the twin worlds of stripping and standup, fully together again after the great schism caused by the birth of comedy clubs. I love a good reunion show.

The first hour and a half of LCS? Much like watching my neighbors grilling food in their backyard. I keep waiting for something, anything, to happen, but it’s just all smoke and hamburger. With the neighbors constantly turning to a camera, “This is the most important hot dog of my life!” “Will Sara eat the beans first, or the cole slaw! I can’t stand it!” “Jim, cook? Please. Bill across the street grills breakfast cereal, Jim is going down!’

Sorry. It’s just so stretchy. But it did allow me to wonder why Jim Tavare, bald, a bit scary. Louis Ramey, bald, quite cuddly.

In an attempt to jam something watchable into the first ninety minutes, we saw– and I quote– midgets, female body builders, models, hate-worthy frat boys, and a nest of Playboy bunnies. If only there had been a murder to solve. Oh, wait, there was one– the dignity of standup!

Bang, boom!

Eh, anyway…

On to the competition!

Immunity– and an automatic spot in the Final Five — was somehow grabbed by Marcus, the guy who does an impression of an impressionist. Yes? I’m right on that one, aren’t I? There are those impressionists out there who just do the down the middle of the plate people, and only do them about as well as the annoying kid in high school. Marcus? Let’s just say that to his credit, he’s no Rich Little. (Does anyone do an impression of Rich Little? The layers of it all…)

So Marcus, in the finals. Yay. (That’s my impression of a depressed cheerleader)

But now, the twist! And the twist is? Apparently ratings aren’t good enough, this show is being shortened… now!

They’re jumping right to the finals, and all seven remaining comics had to perform instead of just the normal three. You know what that means: Jeff Dye and Ron G are going to have to burn their good three. I predict both will go on based on the fact that even open mikers stumble onto enough palatable jokes to fill in a three minute set, and they both have that youth energy that looks good on TV.

But I’m ahead of myself. Real quick, my run down of each comic’s throw-down.

Adam Hunter. Living proof of how rap structures will eventually absorb all performance, Adam moves around like Eminem, and if only he were that funny. It’s just all so pat, so easy, so pandering. Bush is dumb. Lesbians are hot. I stopped doing drugs, but here are some drug jokes. He’s so perfectly, pristinely LA soulless comedy, he performs like a souped up Mustang GT, but the tires are flat and the car is going in circles. But, LA God love him, he’s not far from what a lot of young America likes, so watch out.

Eliza Shlesinger was next, and who knows what color underwear she was wearing (for some reason they didn’t show that during her set), but well, for E, it was “Groundhog Day,” more of the same. She has established her voice, and every bit she does stays exactly within that voice. She throws out some semi-wry observation, pads it with a few mid-crafted lines, and then act out, act out, act out. She’s rapid fire, and she even does big goofy physical. It’s wearing a little thin for me seeing her three weeks in a row, which could work against her in “the big vote,” but, again, a competent set of nobody-important-gets-dinged comedy. She moving on.

Sean Cullen. Sean, Sean Cullen. It’s not standup. It’s musical theater. Right down the middle of the pike. There must be thousands of guys with decent voices across the country sitting at local rehearsals saying, “Hey, we do that, too!” But he’s likable, is at least breezy absurd, and when he’s going all-power Super Mug he’s kind of fun to watch. I’m not sure the Farmer Song he sang had enough punch in it (he was mugging at full power to get his laughs), but it’s possible. Although I’m guessing he’s out.

Next was Jim Tavare. I think Jim had a hard set. He had a couple of mis-speaks (which are death to script-centric comics), and his timing, while always slow, was uneven, he never got into that one-liner patter rhythm that makes guys like him work. I’m also guessing JT is on his way out the in door.

Jeff Dye. Jeff reminds me of Gary Gulman without all the annoying humor to get in the way. He’s tall and fresh-faced, animated, and wears day-glo. But it’s pretty much Britney Spears bubble-gum comedy. He did two extended jokes, one about “The Sound of Music” (really? he’s half as old as that movie), and then something oddly mean-spirited about the homeless. But, clearly on to the finals. Clearly. It’s the kind of vote that drives “real comics” crazy– What? That guy? This is insane!– but he’s doing what the genre of TV wants from him, and I see him surfing on down the pipe, not a ripple in sight.

Number six was Ron G. I have to admit, I expected awful things here. He’s so bad on his feet in the challenges, or in any interview. But, again, the Law of the Open Miker prevails, he nailed his two extended bits. People are lonely in LA (full of good techie references about missed calls and MySpace), and the same joke over and over and over at full power for two minutes, his impression of a woman taking shots at a man. His set was probably the most joke-filled, most high energy, and most acted of them all, all which says he’s moving through. Razzle dazzle ‘em.

And the came Louis Ramey. For all the railing and ranting that hardcore comics do about LCS, how it doesn’t use the best club comics, etc., I think Louis kind of showed that club comedy isn’t always the best choice for TV comedy. First off, his fashion choice was not TV sharp. His jacket didn’t fit, he didn’t look good. He actually held onto the mike stand, a classic club move, but made him look distracted and not locked into the audience. His delivery was so polished it had lost the pop you saw from all the young comics. For a long-time road dog to do well in this kind of venue he has to take it up a notch visually and performatively, get out of his comfort zone and bring something real and crackly into the moment, and I don’t think Louis did. Plus, well, he pulled out a fart joke. I don’t see him in the final 5.

Those I do? Ron G, Jeff Dye, Eliza, and Adam Hunter. Which makes four. Damn. Er, um. They bring back Esther Ku? Ant is given another shot?

Oh, wait, Marcus will be there, so Dave Attell will be there. Or whoever it is he’s kind of doing an impression of when he’s doing an impression of himself not doing an impression.

So, that’s my take, but as we all know, it’s probably just smoke and hamburger, too. When it comes to predicting the unpredictable nature of contest choices, like everyone else, I don’t really know Jack, or squat, or whatever other odd noun you want to put in that phrase.

But one thing I do know? Shecky will be there. Even though they aren’t here right now. I am. Or at least I was.