Comedy (Stand-Up)
Created | Updated Dec 7, 2003
Stand up comedy is perhaps one of the most horrendously unpleasant scenarios to ever find yourself in. In fact, along a continuum of horrendously difficult scenarios, Stand-Up is probably found lying somewhere between waiting in casualty for several hours after receiving a particularly nasty paper cut to the eyeball, and being held against your will whilst being forced to listen to all of Geri Halliwell's albums to date (including her Spice Girls work, and in chronological order) as well as having your abductor read select passages from her autobiography between songs. These analogies only apply, of course, if you yourself happen to be the one standing up and being the comedian; if you are in the audience, then more often than not, you are likely to enjoy yourself for reasons which follow.
One of the best ways to go and see live comedy is to go to your local comedy club. Here, it is normal practice to have several 'comedians' on in one night, all vying for laughs in the usual, predictable way. Inevitably, there will be at least one comedian from Liverpool, trying to perpetuate the almost legendary, but essentially false stereotype that all Liverpudlians are naturally funny. Many people often religiously attend stand-up comedy clubs in the hope that one comedian will absolutely die on his or her arse. There are usually several indicators that this is about to happen, and most comedians tend to follow the same pattern of downhill movement during their act (metaphorically speaking, of course). A comedian who is likely to die on his/her arse will most likely have done a couple of funnies which don't invoke even mild laughter as the desired response. Even this is by no means a hard and fast rule: many comedians will fool themselves into thinking that things are going well, and suddenly be struck with the cold, harsh realisation that they are terribly wrong. This is the point in which comedy can turn out to be exceptionally cruel as the audience, who moments ago were hanging onto your every word and laughing themselves into an enthusiastic numbness, suddenly become as fickle as a teenage girl in a record shop and decide that they are no longer your friend. In this event, there are only two kinds of comedian:
1. The kind which somehow manage to switch into what can only be described as 'Isolation Mode' where, for their own emotional survival, they have to completely disregard whether the audience find them funny or not, and just somehow get through to the end of the routine.
2. The kind which don't.
Let us use this author's own observations of a comedian (who shall, of course, remain nameless) in order to demonstrate what can now be known as the 'Type II Comedian'.
'This person had been on the stage for only three minutes before I began to sense that things were about to turn ugly. For some strange reason, he had adopted this weird Yiddish style of comedy [something] like Jackie Mason (even though his accent betrayed him as originating somewhere in Greater Manchester - Salford, perhaps) and all I can remember was that he kept saying, "Hmmmm. *________. Doesn't even have a train station. It's like Bangladesh..."
'... All of a sudden, he made this weird gesture with his left arm (I couldn't even begin to describe what it was) and then made the stark admission that he was 'S**t' and that he "Could do better than this," before suddenly announcing that he was going to "Do one," and walked off the stage to the stunned silence of the entire audience. Just as I was gathering my thoughts and turning to **_______ to gauge his understanding of what was going on, the guy was back on the stage and doing his best to carry on, but, after stumbling through another two minutes of complete drivel, he shook his head as if in the middle of a somewhat over-zealous self-rebuke and was gone again, to a chorus of jeers and whistles. The compere then bounded up on to the stage and tried to whip the audience into an almost manic frenzy by shouting, "Do you want him back on stage?" and then waving his arms in order to generate some excited frenzy amongst the audience, who were, by this time, having absolutely none of it. Well, if nothing else, I had to admire this guy's tenacity, because, for the third time in ten minutes, he then came back on stage and went through the routine, BUT F****D UP VIRTUALLY EVERY SENTENCE THAT CAME OUT OF HIS MOUTH! He knew then it was lost, and mumbled something again about him being s**t, before suddenly picking up and announcing that he had remembered his best joke, which was about Chris Woodhead, the chief of OFSTED resigning last week (at the time of writing). Unfortunately, he got half way through and f****d that one up as well before saying, "See yoh," and walked off for the third and final time, clapping his hands above his head as if to applaud us for our patience. He reminded me of an international footballer, who, having just lost the World Cup Final, applauds the fans as he walks dejectedly off the pitch in tears. That is exactly the way he walked off, and I'm telling you now - I witnessed the end of that man's stand-up career, because I just cannot accept the possibility of him ever doing another gig in his life.
'So that's it. I felt inconceivably guilty because it has to be said, we all gain some perverse pleasure from seeing comedians in particular, die on their arses, and I'll be the first to confess; as he was going through the worst moments of his life up there on that stage, I wanted it to continue. I would have paid twice the amount for my ticket, just to see him do that act. And, if there is even the remotest possibility that he carries on with his tour of the universities, I would happily see him again. And I will even make the effort of finding out his name so that if he does ever return to the bright lights of the comedy circuit, I can see him perform once more.'
It has been said, therefore, that stand-up comedy behaves like a cruel mistress: you keep on giving and she keeps on taking. For the aspiring comedians amongst you, there are many sources of material available (tip: try writing material about technology from the late 70s/early 80s - this is guaranteed to have the audience warm to you, as they chatter excitedly in response to your descriptions of how hi-fi's used to look like washing machines). It is most important, however, to develop the skill to perform like a Type I Comedian, the kind which our friend (described above) unfortunately isn't.
H.B.O.
*Location of the place in which the 'comedian' performed.
**The author's friend and general mentor for all things funny.
One of the best ways to go and see live comedy is to go to your local comedy club. Here, it is normal practice to have several 'comedians' on in one night, all vying for laughs in the usual, predictable way. Inevitably, there will be at least one comedian from Liverpool, trying to perpetuate the almost legendary, but essentially false stereotype that all Liverpudlians are naturally funny. Many people often religiously attend stand-up comedy clubs in the hope that one comedian will absolutely die on his or her arse. There are usually several indicators that this is about to happen, and most comedians tend to follow the same pattern of downhill movement during their act (metaphorically speaking, of course). A comedian who is likely to die on his/her arse will most likely have done a couple of funnies which don't invoke even mild laughter as the desired response. Even this is by no means a hard and fast rule: many comedians will fool themselves into thinking that things are going well, and suddenly be struck with the cold, harsh realisation that they are terribly wrong. This is the point in which comedy can turn out to be exceptionally cruel as the audience, who moments ago were hanging onto your every word and laughing themselves into an enthusiastic numbness, suddenly become as fickle as a teenage girl in a record shop and decide that they are no longer your friend. In this event, there are only two kinds of comedian:
1. The kind which somehow manage to switch into what can only be described as 'Isolation Mode' where, for their own emotional survival, they have to completely disregard whether the audience find them funny or not, and just somehow get through to the end of the routine.
2. The kind which don't.
Let us use this author's own observations of a comedian (who shall, of course, remain nameless) in order to demonstrate what can now be known as the 'Type II Comedian'.
'This person had been on the stage for only three minutes before I began to sense that things were about to turn ugly. For some strange reason, he had adopted this weird Yiddish style of comedy [something] like Jackie Mason (even though his accent betrayed him as originating somewhere in Greater Manchester - Salford, perhaps) and all I can remember was that he kept saying, "Hmmmm. *________. Doesn't even have a train station. It's like Bangladesh..."
'... All of a sudden, he made this weird gesture with his left arm (I couldn't even begin to describe what it was) and then made the stark admission that he was 'S**t' and that he "Could do better than this," before suddenly announcing that he was going to "Do one," and walked off the stage to the stunned silence of the entire audience. Just as I was gathering my thoughts and turning to **_______ to gauge his understanding of what was going on, the guy was back on the stage and doing his best to carry on, but, after stumbling through another two minutes of complete drivel, he shook his head as if in the middle of a somewhat over-zealous self-rebuke and was gone again, to a chorus of jeers and whistles. The compere then bounded up on to the stage and tried to whip the audience into an almost manic frenzy by shouting, "Do you want him back on stage?" and then waving his arms in order to generate some excited frenzy amongst the audience, who were, by this time, having absolutely none of it. Well, if nothing else, I had to admire this guy's tenacity, because, for the third time in ten minutes, he then came back on stage and went through the routine, BUT F****D UP VIRTUALLY EVERY SENTENCE THAT CAME OUT OF HIS MOUTH! He knew then it was lost, and mumbled something again about him being s**t, before suddenly picking up and announcing that he had remembered his best joke, which was about Chris Woodhead, the chief of OFSTED resigning last week (at the time of writing). Unfortunately, he got half way through and f****d that one up as well before saying, "See yoh," and walked off for the third and final time, clapping his hands above his head as if to applaud us for our patience. He reminded me of an international footballer, who, having just lost the World Cup Final, applauds the fans as he walks dejectedly off the pitch in tears. That is exactly the way he walked off, and I'm telling you now - I witnessed the end of that man's stand-up career, because I just cannot accept the possibility of him ever doing another gig in his life.
'So that's it. I felt inconceivably guilty because it has to be said, we all gain some perverse pleasure from seeing comedians in particular, die on their arses, and I'll be the first to confess; as he was going through the worst moments of his life up there on that stage, I wanted it to continue. I would have paid twice the amount for my ticket, just to see him do that act. And, if there is even the remotest possibility that he carries on with his tour of the universities, I would happily see him again. And I will even make the effort of finding out his name so that if he does ever return to the bright lights of the comedy circuit, I can see him perform once more.'
It has been said, therefore, that stand-up comedy behaves like a cruel mistress: you keep on giving and she keeps on taking. For the aspiring comedians amongst you, there are many sources of material available (tip: try writing material about technology from the late 70s/early 80s - this is guaranteed to have the audience warm to you, as they chatter excitedly in response to your descriptions of how hi-fi's used to look like washing machines). It is most important, however, to develop the skill to perform like a Type I Comedian, the kind which our friend (described above) unfortunately isn't.
H.B.O.
*Location of the place in which the 'comedian' performed.
**The author's friend and general mentor for all things funny.
