Rant #1: The comedy scene
Feel like a ranting mood today. Careful, as when I rant the post could get extremely disjointed and no semblance of continuity can be found. One thing that's been on my mind lately is the state of the comedy scene. I'm reminded of it every time I talk to a good friend and comedy mentor of mine, who is probably the biggest comedy geek out there and thus knows a lot more things about what goes on than I do, and I'm grateful for it. Back almost 20 years ago I was a fresh-faced (OK, pock-faced - once a nerd, always a nerd) high school student, stepping out on the comedy stage for the first time. I probably never gave comedy as much attention as I should have, but boy howdy, I've always loved doing it. Unfortunately, when naive idealism, optimism and eagerness meet business bottom lines and corporate structure, hearts are bound to get broken. Running across rules of comedy clubs several times in the last 20 years (which are more geared towards having you be a salesman (and get as many of your friends in as possible so that they can bring the club money) to bring in bodies, rather than bringing in bodies by making sure that you're funny and word spreads by word of mouth) have had me take "sabbaticals" several times in the years since I first started doing comedy. Officially my reason for my current (probably permanent at this stage) leave from formal standup is that my family doesn't afford me much time to devote to the craft (which is honestly the prime factor), but the fact that if I did want to return to the stage, having to play by clubs' rules doesn't appeal to me at all.
An incident recently that has soured my impression on comedy management was a recent contest in a local paper that shall remain the Winnipeg Free Press. A "search for Winnipeg's Wackiest comic" contest was held - sounds simple, and sounds like something I would be interested in, right? Well I was interested (and performed an act for it, albeit primarily composed of old stuff), but the contest was more a popularity contest than a comedy contest, the semifinalists were chosen by who got the most votes for their video, if you're like me you can already see where this is going, I'm sure more than one winner just managed to get his friends to vote for him (and, from what I could tell, multiple votes were cheerfully allowed, as I was able to vote for my own act several times). Kind of wish I had the time to listen to some of them to see if they were actually deserving of the semifinalist place the "won" (although I knew a few of the winners' names by comedic reputation, and they at least weren't bad), but a contest that more rewards how many friends you have rather than comedic merit isn't a contest at all.
Don't be led astray by the content of this post; do I still love comedy? Absolutely? Would I perform again if given the time, opportunity, and new material? You bet! But have I grown into a cynical old man, scoffing at the idealistic youth I once was? Of course. (That probably makes for good comedy too - after all, no one called George Carlin a youthful idealist ... )
An incident recently that has soured my impression on comedy management was a recent contest in a local paper that shall remain the Winnipeg Free Press. A "search for Winnipeg's Wackiest comic" contest was held - sounds simple, and sounds like something I would be interested in, right? Well I was interested (and performed an act for it, albeit primarily composed of old stuff), but the contest was more a popularity contest than a comedy contest, the semifinalists were chosen by who got the most votes for their video, if you're like me you can already see where this is going, I'm sure more than one winner just managed to get his friends to vote for him (and, from what I could tell, multiple votes were cheerfully allowed, as I was able to vote for my own act several times). Kind of wish I had the time to listen to some of them to see if they were actually deserving of the semifinalist place the "won" (although I knew a few of the winners' names by comedic reputation, and they at least weren't bad), but a contest that more rewards how many friends you have rather than comedic merit isn't a contest at all.
Don't be led astray by the content of this post; do I still love comedy? Absolutely? Would I perform again if given the time, opportunity, and new material? You bet! But have I grown into a cynical old man, scoffing at the idealistic youth I once was? Of course. (That probably makes for good comedy too - after all, no one called George Carlin a youthful idealist ... )