The best measure of an entertainer — especially one who’s immune to shame — is that effortless timing to hurl one-liners that’ll explode a few beats after you expect them. Richard D. Curtin can detonate a joke like a breast implant at high altitudes.

As a character actor, Curtin is a chameleon who brings the loveably perverse to life: whether it’s a nerdy, greasy-haired Cinderella; a head-banging paraplegic who can profoundly sense others’ emotions; or a modern-day Jesus who invokes the divine grace of pole dancers.

He polishes a project with the finest touches. To nail a role, Curtin often painstakingly creates the visual portion — even if that means discovering an intense purplish-red wool turban and then perfectly matching the shade and tint for the sweater, skirt and lipstick.

Curtin may be a grotesque daredevil who’ll shock an audience by plunging his bare hand into a toilet bowl. However, he recognizes the type of behavior that’s really dangerous — like the inconsiderate pigs who park their SUVs in the fire lane at the front entrance of a grocery store.

That’s because his keen perspective drives his creativity.

Curtin says his favorite historical figure is Annie Sullivan, “because the world’s full of Helen Kellers.”

His collaborators know Curtin as a reliable talent, whatever the medium: television creator, talk-show host, riveting performance artist and black-tie emcee.

Possessing the folksy allure of Tammy Wynette, the smooth on-air delivery of Dick Clark and Divine’s appallingly filthy courage, Curtin’s like a droll curator of the provocative. And somehow, he transcends caricature to make the culturally dangerous…. Well, human.