Gord Downie, lead singer of The Tragically Hip, rocks the National Arts Centre Satruday, September 26, 2009. (DARREN BROWN/Sun Media)

OTTAWA - The Tragically Hip’s Gord Downie can always be counted on to do something bizarre and entertaining to crank up an audience.

Saturday night at the National Arts Centre — the first of three sold-out nights — Downie was at his eccentric best, taking what would have been a terrific concert on its own and transformed it into demented, deconstructed theatre.

Little wonder the capital just can’t get enough of the boys from Kingston — Gord Downie, Paul Langlois, Rob Baker, Gord Sinclair and Johnny Fay. The lobby was positively buzzing, even during a half-hour delay, thanks to technical gremlins.

By the time the band assembled on the Southam Hall stage, all 2,200 fans were already on their feet for a nasty version of New Orleans is Sinking — a song they recently resurrected after Hurricane Katrina — and The Depression Suite from their new album We Are The Same.

Divided into two hour-long sets, the band covered about eight tunes in the first half including Twist My Arm, Puttin’ Down, Morning Moon, Ahead By a Century and Courage — surely a song they should have worn out by now except that it still rallies the troops, and it didn’t hurt that Downie ran out into the audience, thrusting his microphone into faces and ordering them to sing.

Back on the stage, he embarked into one of those delirious, delicious rants. “You in the cheap seats, break down the fourth wall.” and “Let’s do more.” But when no one joined in the cheer, he changed it to “Am I yelling to myself?”

“Chivalry is dead,” he announced after the sweat-soaked handkerchief he was handing to a lady up front was snatched away by a guy. “Women don’t want chivalry, they want someone to bring in the groceries.”

Then it was on to a long jam of 100th Meridian before closing out the first half with a fist-pounding new single Love is a First.

Even when he was still, Downie lent the stage a kind of intense stage presence rarely seen outside of theatre, with a cast of characters including a jittery Elvis, a third-rate lounge singer, or raving lunatic yelling something incomprehensible except that it made sense at the moment.

All these antics didn’t overshadow Downie’s high-octane vocals, but added a layer of spontaneous, nervous energy to the performance.

Meanwhile, the band played on as if this Tourette’s-like behaviour was completely normal.

Come to think of it, with the NAC stage done up like a Vegas strip club with sexy coloured lights on the band and lots of stars shining behind them, he might well have been channeling Sammy Davis Jr.

This was Downie at his manic best.

The Tragically Hip perform at the NAC again Sunday and Monday.