Why is stand up comedy such an unreliable art form? How come a comedian can absolutely smash it at a gig on Monday night and die an anguished comedy death 10 metres down the road on Tuesday? Why is a joke deemed hilarious by friends in the pub suddenly completely lacking when delivered at an open mic night? Why does a comedian suddenly feel the need, mid-show, to edit or ad lib part of a set that was working fine over the past three months? And really, how is it that the 8pm show is nothing like the midnight show at The Comedy Store, London!? It's the same acts! It's the same material!
The answer is simple: The success of a joke, of a comedian, lies solely in who's listening.
It's part of why people gaze admiringly at comedians, those loveable ego-driven funny machines clutching a pint to their sub-par physiques, and declare breathlessly 'You're so brave!', 'It's the hardest job in the world', paramedics, soldiers and fireman instantly swept to the side.
The same happens in real life. Yes, real life! Some people are naturally the more amusing jokers, some just happen to have found friendship groups that enthusiastically enjoy their wit and wry observations whereas the rest of us just assume that we're not funny. And maybe we're not. But if we look a bit closer we'll see that many of these successful jokers are not nearly so funny when removed from their group-with-built-in-comedy-fans or that they have a hit/miss ratio on par with many professional stand ups depending on their company, the time and the event.
It all depends on who's receiving the joke. My sister has a very dry sense of humour. Unless I whip out a corker any joke I ever make will always be met with a disapproving glance and a distinct lack of laughter. My best friend will most likely be in hysterics but she's a compulsive giggler and wants to be amused. That makes a big difference. So I might be utterly unfunny, I might be the comedian of the century (it's unlikely yes). The truth is that it depends on who's listening. Also on how drunk they are.
It's a basic truth that comedy is not always funny. Or not always funny for everyone. Look to improvisation and you'll see a clearer illustration of how the power of comedy lies in receiving feedback from audiences, from keeping alert and developing in response to the audience's level of appreciation. This is how newbies with one good joke and twenty minutes of crap can end up honing incredible sets that speak perfectly to his or her generation of fans. This is why Michael McIntyre worked the circuit for years before becoming the only comedian in the list of highest earning arena tours 2012.
It's a truth that's been covered by the success of TV panel and 'live' roadshows that edit down sets until only the laughs remains and any unnecessary awkwardness is quietly removed. TV audiences then feel disappointed when a live comedy show contains jokes that fall flat on their faces or sink without trace, when the laughs don't consistently come at neat five second intervals nor does every comedian end his set on a high note. The comedians are now the 'new rock stars', the untouchables who define what is funny and it's very hard for up-and-coming acts to live up to that in person.
This isn't another rant about TV killing comedy. Panel shows, roadshows, they all have their place. I watch many of them myself. And while I'm not trying to encourage new talent to enter the industry, it's hard and pretty oversubscribed right now, I would like to ensure that clubs remain where comedians can break out new material, can try to do or say something innovative and where people are still willing to listen. Because, at the end of the day, comedy only matters if someone is listening.
No comments:
Post a Comment