His new material has some of that same meta-approach, including a regular analysis of his act by a snarky blogger character with a deep, almost Texan twang. But this conceit complements a meaty, galloping set about religion, the prospect of dying alone and most of all, a cleareyed portrait of where he is now. (Mr. Maron’s favorite phrase — “We good?” — is arguably the subtext of his entire show.)

His stories are involved but not indulgent, full of detours that never ramble too far from an elegantly constructed punch line. Illustrating the nature of his religious upbringing, he told a story of asking his mother if there was a God. Her response was to change the subject: “Just eat. And remember, you’re better than other people,” Mr. Maron said, summing up. “That’s American Judaism.”

Mr. Maron speaks in a wonderfully dramatic, searching tone. When he asked the audience if it’s a problem being alone as he gets older, he did so in the pleading voice of a confidant truly looking for answers as opposed to a comic setting up a joke. Occasionally he dropped the microphone and talked directly to the crowd, a shift in sound that made audience members lean in. Mr. Maron did, however, change his style for the vast opera house. Although he is usually more likely to sit on a stool than prowl the stage, on Friday his act had much more movement than usual.

In a bit about the Resurrection, he imagined Jesus returning from the dead as a scene from the film “Weekend at Bernie’s.” And in his most flamboyant and funniest set piece, he described the anxiety of seeing the Rolling Stones in concert as they are today, acting out each member of the band as well as members of the crowd worried that their rock gods were going to reveal themselves to be the senior citizens they are. While he made the case that the Stones were more dangerous than ever by dancing on frailer bones, his routine was built not on anxiety or nostalgia but on goofy and gleeful physical comedy.

Even when discussing his anger issues — his bread and butter — Mr. Maron seemed less than tortured. In fact, he was most persuasive in describing the pleasure of losing one’s temper, adding that it’s taboo to admit this.