Okay, so I promised a few posts ago I was gonna write some thoughts on starting out in comedy inspired by Brody's ball-growing musings on Get Your Free Cone, such as:
Just as I feared, it’s going to take a lot of time and lot of pain to get good. The stage is still alien to me. It’s frightening and I’m pretty sure it want’s to jump on my face and lay eggs in my throat. I’m scared. Please hold me.
Sounds pretty much smack bang on the mark. It does take both pain and time to get good, the question is whether you actually want it badly enough to bother going through the whole ordeal! My first experience of stand-up land came a few months after finally mustering up the effort/guts/insert-descriptor-here to start performing at a weekly improv night. It certainly wasn't the best show in the world, it certainly didn't draw the best crowds in the world...BUT I got the thrill of finally being onstage again, two free bears and a T-bone steak each week, plus most importantly of all: the confidence that at least a couple of people out there found me at least mildly amusing.
It was armed with this nieve confidence that I rang up and registered for a stand-up comedy competition I'd seen advertised - all without a scrap of material written. But the point was, I knew that with a deadline, I would have to come up with something. I took to the guitar for the first time in years - anyone who's seen me perform will attest to the fact that I am gloriously hopeless when it comes to guitar playing - figuring that at least with some musical tid-bits, even if people weren't laughing they might at least listen. Plus it would be a good shield from tomatoes.
My first time on-stage was scary, for sure. What was probably scarier though, was doing regular gigs not too long after that in a tiny little bar whose regular customers comprised a posse of construction workers who were drinking from 3 in the afternoon thanks to the drawcard of topless waitresses. By the time we got onstage at 8, they were...well, you get the idea. But...as stressful and painful as those gigs were, in hindsight they were the best thing that ever happened. Because they built my comedy muscle. Because I knew after those nights that I can deal with hecklers and not be scared. And because, as the adage goes, you do learn the most from the worst gigs. Not that I like to have a bad gig given the choice, but you do seem to reassess your set and look at what went wrong and how you can get better for next time, rather than the half minute back-slapping that comes from a good one.
Is this even making sense?
I guess my point is, that yes, comedy is painful. But that's good because there's already so many people trying it that I guess the pain factor weeds out those who really want it and those who can't be bothered going through the whole shebang. But once you've been bitten and there's no turning back...I think the pain is actually good for you.
Unless you start smashing yourself over the head with Sumo wrestlers. That is bad and should be highly discouraged.
PS A very interesting article on the nature of humour if you're keen.
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5 comments:
I've always cherished a secret desire (well, not that secret) to do stand-up, as I think I'd probably be decent, compared with some people I've seen.
The difference is while I'm a sucker for punishment, and work in creative industries where criticism is as common as oxygen, there's just something about stand-up that remains scary.
I love impro, and I love talking to people and being funny (or trying to be funny) - but I don't know how well I would cope with hecklers, and uneasy silences from audiences.
I guess I should give it a try one day. That's the thing about the "bad" comedians I've seen - they're better than me because they at least have the guts to do it!
You wouldn't catch me up there in a zillion years!
Do you think people can learn to be funny, or are they born with the funny gene?
GC - Just do it, I say!! Get it done! The first one is the scariest, but you've done so much improv and stuff, you'll be way ahead of most comics who start out in terms of stage-time.
Also, on the 'awkward silence' and/or 'heckling' note:
a) If you feel confident enough to deviate from your set routine straight up (which I'd say coming from an improv background would be a lot easier) then you can come up with some saves i.e. lines to say in the event that crickets churp (in fact, I know comics whose saves have worked so well they've deliberately bombed jokes just so they can use the save line!) and also heckler comebacks.
Just on that note too, the unwritten law in comedy land is that you NEVER use somebody else's material, but heckler comebacks are kind of a free for all. i.e. you can search for them, ask about them etc and use them in the event that ammunition is required!
Anyway, in terms of hecklers, if you go to an open mic night your chances of running into them are generally pretty slim, usually the MC will let the crowd know the comics are newbies so to not be complete pricks.
Go forth and comedicise!!!
Miss - It's funny, isn't it? It's actually one of my favourite places to be!
Hmmmm...I think people aren't 'born' funny, so much as 'raised' funny. Maybe there's a funny gene, but it seems to me there's too many commonalities between comics' childhoods (e.g. either raised by and around funny people or whatever and/or sad stuff happening, with humour being their coping mechanism) for that to purely be coincidence.
I've heard many a comedy teacher/writer say that 'you can't teach someone to be funny, but you can teach someone to be funniER', which I pretty much subscribe to as well. That said, I don't think there are many people in this world who don't have at least some element of funny in them. Not that I've met so far, anyway. But maybe that's just me!!
Anybody else have thoughts on this?
Gees I hate it when I do an a) type response and forget to add the b).
Forgive me. It's midnight here and I'm desperately pining for Woodford Folk Festival. That's my excuse, anyway.
Go, go, go!!! Looking forward to hearing all the juicy details.
Another thing I think which is important (I promise I'll step down off my soapbox after this) is just to remind yourself not to take it all too seriously. I mean, it's just comedy, it's nerve-wracking, but it's not like we're saving people's lives or anything. I always tell myself JUST before I go onstage 'I have a great family who loves me, I can walk away from this at any minute.' It's so cheeseball I almost hate to even admit that, but it does take the pressure off and just put it in perspective. And helps me relax. And the funny thing is (no pun intended) that the more relaxed you are onstage, I think the better your performance is anyway.
Just thoughts!!
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