He struts his stuff with the same old get-a-load-of-me bluster, but Lawrence also comes off in this concert film as a warmer, more self-savvy, and altogether funnier person. At 36, he no longer talks about women as if he were some hip-hop pasha; there's a new empathy to his raunch. That said, for every routine that's fresh, like the one in which Lawrence enacts what it would look like if Martin Luther King Jr. had decided, just once, to get some payback, there's another that's facile and rote. This is confessional comedy lite from a performer who should realize, by now, that he only gets funnier the more he reveals.


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