There was no news from the Louis C.K. comedy show at the Orpheum Theater in downtown Phoenix on Friday night.

Yes, he addressed it. He talked about the New York Times story that made him a social and cultural pariah when it was published in November 2017. He did so by mocking himself. He did so without blame. He did so without apology.

It was a small portion of his act. It was mentioned at the beginning and he would return to it briefly again while on stage.

But his set wasn’t dominated by it.

For the most part, the stand-up comedian did what was expected: He performed 80-some minutes of abrasive, edgy, hilarious and smart comedy before a sold-out appreciative audience.

Louis C.K. had two more shows in the historic theater scheduled for Saturday and Sunday nights.

The comedy touched third rails — the Holocaust, pedophilia, necrophilia, terrorist acts, to name a few — that shocked the audience but never felt cheap. The laughs were deep and earned.

It was the type of well-constructed material that might not have seemed such a surprise in previous years. Such as in his “Oh My God” special, filmed at the Celebrity Theater in Phoenix, in which he offered his audience a rationalization for slavery and urged everyone, even those in good marriages, to get divorced.

But since Louis C.K. announced that the stories women told the New York Times were true, that he did occasionally ask women — friends, fellow comedians, potential mentees — if he could masturbate in front of them, it was seemingly all that came to mind when anyone thought about him.

But apparently, he had other thoughts on his mind over the past two years. Enough for more than hour’s worth of the kind of well-honed material that had made him such a comedic legend.

That legend fell apart in the wake of the Times story. A movie he made was shelved. The network on which his critically-acclaimed television series aired canceled its deal with him. He stopped performing.

By 2018, he was making unscheduled drop-ins at New York comedy clubs. Then scheduled performances. He announced his tour in late 2019. It started in Monterrey, Mexico, then moved to Houston and Denver before arriving in Phoenix.

There were no protesters outside the theater. Just a line of patrons waiting to surrender their cell phones in a locked pouch for the duration of the show.

The jokes Louis C.K. told about his scandal won’t be repeated here. And not just because attendees, as part of the fine print on the ticket, agreed not to share his material in any way, shape or form or risk legal consequences.

The jokes won’t be repeated here because this isn’t the proper forum they are meant to be consumed in. They are meant to be heard, not read. And only heard when delivered by the man himself.

Had Louis C.K. made news with his jokes, that rule wouldn’t apply. The urgency to share the news of what the comedian said on a stage in Phoenix on Friday night would have won out.

But there was no news.

When Louis C.K. took the stage, in his trademark outfit of a black T-shirt and jeans, most in attendance stood and applauded.

When he finished, with a bit whose subject was so dark it would not be repeated here even if Louis C.K. expressly allowed it, the crowd gave him another standing ovation.

Not for taking the stage. But for returning to form.