At a time when audiences are constantly scrolling for the next clip or replay, former school teacher turned actress Avion Crooks took a deliberately different route: one night, one audience, no digital afterlife. Her second stand-up comedy production, One Night Only… is Long Time, lived up to its name—a three-hour immersion in distinctly Trinidadian humour that rewarded those present at the Naparima Bowl on April 9.
Crooks’ insistence on a single, unrecorded performance was more than a gimmick. It created a kind of theatrical intimacy that has become increasingly rare. Without the safety net of playback or viral snippets, the audience leaned in, fully present, as Crooks delivered a set that was equal parts social commentary and cultural time capsule.
Crooks mined the shared experiences of those who came of age in the 1980s and 1990s, threading her performance with the “doctrine” sayings and social codes that shaped everyday life in those decades. It was a deliberate return to a pre-digital Trinidad, where storytelling, gossip and community observation formed the backbone of humour.
Her material was unapologetically local. From the recent spread of the common flu to the rituals surrounding death and wakes, Crooks navigated topics that might otherwise be considered uncomfortable, extracting laughter through sharp observation and timing. One of the standout segments saw her deconstruct the “six levels” of contracting a cough—a comedic escalation from mild sniffles to full-blown community concern—mirroring how illness often becomes a shared social event in tight-knit neighbourhoods.
Equally effective was her take on community life, particularly the dynamics of neighbourly obligations. A recurring reference to contributions at “Joyce’s wake” struck a chord, tapping into the unspoken expectations and subtle pressures that define communal living. In another segment, Crooks flipped conventional narratives by humorously outlining the “benefits” of homelessness along High Street in San Fernando, using satire to expose deeper social contradictions.
Her comedic lens also extended to relationships and identity, particularly the cultural shorthand of being labelled a “homebody” in a society that often prizes visibility and social activity. Delivered in unmistakable Trini lingo, these reflections resonated with an audience that saw itself mirrored—sometimes uncomfortably—on stage.
Crooks’ performance style is anchored in what might be described as “methodical chaos”—a controlled unravelling of everyday scenarios that builds towards punchlines rooted in recognition rather than surprise. She guided the audience down memory lane with precision, allowing nostalgia to do as much of the work as the jokes themselves.
The evening’s entertainment was not limited to stand-up. Musical interludes by Marge Blackman, Patrice Richardson and Michelle Dowrich added a layer of familiarity, with selections that prompted sing-alongs and reinforced the show’s communal atmosphere. Spoken word artist Johchele Johnson contributed a reflective counterpoint, while guitarist Kyle Peters provided musical texture. The entire production was seamlessly coordinated by Ultra Simmo, ensuring smooth transitions across the varied segments.
A particularly notable moment came with the appearance of Crooks’ long-time mentor, David Sammy, who joined her on stage for a shared comedic exchange. The chemistry between the two underscored the lineage of Trinidadian theatre and comedy, a tradition Crooks continues to draw from. She has frequently acknowledged both Sammy and Paul Keens-Douglas as formative influences on her craft, and their imprint was evident in her blend of storytelling, satire and character work.
What distinguishes One Night Only… is Long Time is not just its humour, but its intentionality. In resisting the urge to commodify the performance through recordings or repeats, Crooks reaffirmed the value of live theatre as a shared, unrepeatable experience. It is a risky proposition in an era driven by content permanence, but one that paid off—at least for those who secured a seat.
In the end, Crooks delivered more than a comedy show. She offered a reflection of Trinidadian life—past and present—filtered through wit, memory and a keen understanding of the social fabric. For one night only, that was more than enough.
