It's no wonder Lily Tomlin can embody bratty, precocious Edith Ann with such ease: She was that kid. And even though she's now pushing 70, she still is.
Among the many charms of the one-woman show she brought to Tampa Saturday night were her reminiscences of childhood in Detroit. She talked about being free to roam from apartment to apartment in the housing project where she grew up, making the other tenants her audience, tapping into their personae to create her repertoire of characters. It's easy to see the younger Lily in the performer we see now because she still holds onto that eagerness to please, combined with an ever-alert intelligence that's always aware of the ironies of being a performer, or, for that matter, of being a human being.
It helps that she looks and moves like someone years younger. Lithe and graceful but also a little gawky, she's like a Jules Feiffer cartoon dancer come to life, crossing the stage in bursts of energy only to hold the center with sudden stillness when it's time to deliver a punch line.
And the punch lines are plentiful.
This article appears in Feb 11-17, 2009.