For nearly five decades, Sandra Bernhard has been impossible to pin down. Comedian, actor, singer, storyteller—her performances are an alchemy of all four, a style that is distinctly her own. On April 24, Bernhard brings her latest show, “Shapes & Forms,” to Paramount Hudson Valley in Peekskill, offering an evening of sharp-witted social commentary, music, and unscripted moments that have long defined her stage presence.
Bernhard’s ability to weave personal anecdotes with cultural critique is what sets her apart. In one breath, she can recount a chance encounter with an A-lister at a New York restaurant, and in the next, pivot to a critique of modern celebrity itself—turning the moment into something both deeply personal and broadly satirical. Her humor is dry but expansive, laced with a knowingness that lets the audience in on the joke rather than keeping them at arm’s length.
Music has always played a central role in her performances. Whether channeling the brooding intensity of Patti Smith or the lush melodies of Burt Bacharach, Bernhard treats song as both homage and reinvention, using it to add layers to the stories she tells on stage. “Shapes & Forms” promises a mix of unexpected covers, with nods to Lana Del Rey, Stevie Nicks, Lionel Richie, and Cat Stevens, among others—an eclectic songbook that mirrors her wide-ranging artistic sensibilities.
Beyond the stage, Bernhard has left her mark across film and television. Her breakout performance in Martin Scorsese’s The King of Comedy (1982) remains one of the film’s most unnerving and darkly funny elements, a role that presaged an era of celebrity obsession. She later became a fixture on “Roseanne” as Nancy Bartlett, one of television’s first openly queer recurring characters, and has since taken on roles in Pose, “American Horror Story,” and “Will & Grace.” Even as she moves between mediums, her voice remains consistent—wry, self-aware, and always willing to push the conversation a step further.
Her SiriusXM radio show, “Sandyland,” captures much of the same energy as her live performances. She shifts effortlessly from political observations to personal reflections to casual banter, treating pop culture as an ever-evolving conversation. That same off-the-cuff spontaneity defines her stage shows, which resist categorization and feel less like a rehearsed act than an extended, unpredictable monologue.
With “Shapes & Forms,” Bernhard once again refuses to fit into any one mold. The show promises an evening of storytelling, music, and razor-sharp humor—delivered with the confidence of a performer who has never needed permission to be exactly who she is.
This article appears in January 2025.
