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Jan 4th
Posted by Ben Axelrad in Daily Blogs
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LA Laugh-A-Holics: “Mark your calendars” for the 8 o’clock spot this Wednesday and Thursday at the Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre. (“Mark your calendars” is an old timey expression used during the paper boom of the last century meaning to add a custom event to your iPhone calendar.) Wednesday is not only the first Wednesday of 2011 but also the first of the month, which means, as I’ve been telling you since the dawn of time, The Birthday Boys and A Kiss from Daddy will be performing their always-awesome brand new monthly show.
If 2011 is already the worst year of your life, come rectify that on Wednesday. Then come back on Thursday and find the inspiration to make this the best year of your life with the help of rap inspirationalists Hip Hop Penguin.
You may have heard HHP mentioned around these parts, as they recently made the short list of Improv groups that wowed me. Now they’re bringing their “written and performed” game to the UCB in a debut performance that’s certain to . . . I don’t know exactly. I bet it’ll be funny. And inspirational. And, according to the title, something about “truth bombs.” Point is, I don’t need to know anything about this show to recommend it. These cats are on the way up. Is it merely coincidence that HHP is jumpin off following big-time props from Poop or Chocolate? Yes. Yes it is. But Poop or Chocolate is never averse to taking credit for coincidence. You’re welcome, Penguin. Next time you need something to happen inadvertently, call on us.
My name is Ben and I recommend these.
Jul 29th
New York and the tri-state area, provided you like longform improv in strange locations at all hours of the day and night (raise your hand, dickhead who doesn’t), have I got a treat for you. This weekend all over the borough of Manhattan, the Upright Citizens Brigade presents the Del Close Marathon!
The Del Close Marathon is a weekend-long celebration of . . . aw hell, I’ll just show you this promotional video:
Okay, that didn’t help at all. DCM is a giant improv festival held in New York each year celebrating the founder of longform improvisation Del Close and featuring the best and brightest from the UCB theaters in New York and LA. Many of your favorite stars from film and TV got their starts at this theater and at this festival and many of them will be returning to join in the celebration alongside some of the future stars of those very same media. It’s a great time and if I was on the East Coast I would sure as shit be there.
I’ve been told $25 will secure you a pass to all the festivities, or you can but tickets to individual shows if you’re just looking for a taste. Many of our friends including Convoy, Arts & Athletics, Fat Magic Bear, The Midnight Show, DERRICK Comedy, and many others will be performing shows that could otherwise only be seen in Los Angeles. I encourage you to get a glimpse of the other coast, though don’t sleep on the New York teams either. Here’s a schedule of the 150+ performances between Friday and Sunday.
Let me take a minute now to speak to some of the performers; friends of mine who will be doing dunken, unconscionable for the next 96 hours:
To all my drunk female friends, put down that dick. It’s not a champagne bottle and you won’t like what comes bubbling out when you pop the cork.
To all my drunk, gay-curious male friends, don’t even think about doing that with that champagne bottle. It’s not a dick, and you won’t like what comes shooting out when you put it in your ass.
To all my gay, fabulous friends . . . You do you, guys. This is like Improv Mardi Gras. I encourage you to fuck all the straight guys.
My name is Ben and what happens at DCM stays at DCM untul it’s brought back from DCM and told to everyone.
Jun 24th
Posted by Ben Axelrad in Featured Blogs
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Comedy takes many different forms at the Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre in Los Angeles. If you’ve spent an enjoyable evening there over the past couple years it might’ve been to see improv or sketch; an open mic or talk show; stand-up spotlight or one-person show. No matter what you saw, though, it had one thing in common with every other show at the burgeoning theater: It was booked by Neil Campbell. As the UCB-LA’s Artistic Director Neil has his hands full balancing the schedule between established comics and an ever-growing slew of youngsters working their way through the UCB Training Program. On top of the full-time work he puts in as AD, Neil gets his hands dirty on the creative side as a writer, director and performer in at least two shows every week. To say he spends a lot of time at the theater is like saying prisoners spend a lot of time in prison. He was away from the theater for an hour to give this interview and was reported missing. He has “PROPERTY OF UCB” tattooed on his back. Neither of those last two sentences are true.
As the UCB prepares to celebrate five years in LA next month, Poop or Chocolate sat down with Neil to talk all things pertaining to his home away from home.
How did you get started at UCB?
Scott Aukerman from Comedy Deathray had seen Paul Rust and I do some sketches at Garage Comedy and gave us a spot on Comedy Deathray. That was the first time we got to perform in front of people we really admired and loved. When UCB was opening Scott recommended us to Matt Besser and we got a show the first month. And then there was this show, Not Too Shabby, every Friday at midnight, same time it is now, and by the third week Paul and I were the only people that had shown up every week to perform sketches. We were in line and Besser came up to us and was like, “I can’t host a Friday midnight show every week, do you guys want to take this over?” That was August of 2005 and we still host that show every Friday now.
How much time do you spend at the theater?
Artistic Director is a full-time job, but it really varies how much time I spend there during the week. I’ll work from home a lot, partially because I can and partially because I’m one of three people sharing two desks. I do office hours every Thursday from 2-5 where anyone can come in to talk about doing a show. And then I’m there at night a lot to watch the shows. Over the past few weeks I’ve watched every Maude Night and I’m there most Harold Nights. If there’s a new show I try to see it. And then there are the shows I perform in: Last Day of School is my improv group, we perform Thursday nights at 11 with another great group, Convoy. Then Friday nights Paul and I do Not Too Shabby at midnight. And A Kiss from Daddy, my sketch group, performs the first Wednesday of every month with the Birthday Boys. I’m there a ton, I can’t even start to add it up.
Here is Neil in a video from A Kiss from Daddy.
What about the Artistic Director job interested you?
The reason I took the job to begin with was because I’m a pretty analytical guy, whichever brain that is, I forget, so I talk to my friends about comedy and what I like and what I dislike. When I got the job I knew a big part of it was looking at who was doing well and who deserves a run. And I already had all the opinions; I just didn’t have any need or cause to share them without just being the guy who says his opinion without anyone asking. The job just gave me a reason to share them. I’m really confident in my ability to pick funny stuff out and choose which performers and writers to showcase. I think I can just kind of tell when someone has a point of view and when people are just trying to get it right for the industry. You see groups like the Birthday Boys now or Hendershaw before them, groups who have such a strong voice, and those are the type of people I want to see succeed. And I think I’m pretty good at picking them out.
What are your favorite things about the job?
My favorite thing is seeing someone go from student, to getting representation, to getting work. That’s when I’m most proud. I mean, I didn’t do anything, it was all their talent, but I provided them a forum to showcase their talent. I like getting involved as early as possible with these shows. Getting my hands dirty, helping to make them the best they can be. That’s what makes some of the less fun stuff worth it. Any job is going to have a mix of crap and good stuff, and at this job, that’s the good stuff. Not everyone comes in for help, and it’s not a requirement to pitch to me, but I love when t people do. Some people come in and I get really involved, but there can be a negative to that too. Sometimes there can be people who are trying to safeguard. And they just want to make sure that every step is okay. But in the end it’s going to come down to execution. And if I see it and all just seems aimed to please me, as opposed to having something to say or expressing a strong comedic point of view, then they were coming in for the wrong reasons. They were coming in to try and “get it right” as opposed to using me as a sounding board. But I love helping do whatever I can to make shows as good as possible.
What do you look for as a show booker?
There aren’t a preset series of things that I’m looking for, but I usually know when I see it because I’m laughing at it. Something I like in comedy is when people are confident in themselves, so they don’t need to use comedy to prove anything. Stuff that’s about proving how smart or cool the writer is, that’s not why you get into comedy. Or maybe that IS why you get into comedy, but it’s not what comedy’s about. Comedy’s about making people laugh. I’m into a bit of unpredictability. I definitely don’t like it when people are unprepared, but I’m into a bit of controlled chaos. There are certain shows that are so polished, and that’s great, but I also love shows like Badger’s Promise that can just kind of go off the rail. And I love that. But I don’t like to tell people how to be funny. UCB is more about a method of communicating what you personally find funny. That’s what I really responded to and that’s what I try to teach. Show me what you think is funny and I’ll try to help you to find the clearest way to put that out there.
If you want to see yourself on the UCB stage what’s the best way to accomplish it?
Taking the classes is step one. We’re not a stage that’s pay to play. You don’t have to take the classes to get on our stage. But that said, I think sometimes people just want to circumvent the system. They don’t want to take the classes but they want to perform at “UCB.” If you really want to get involved, all the people that you love who are doing the Facebook show or Asssscat, they all went through the program. Harold Night, Maude Night, they went through the program. They took the classes and that’s a great way to get involved. And then there are all those open mikes, shows like Not Too Shabby. Any opportunity you have to go out and make people laugh, take it. What I really like about Not Too Shabby is that sometimes you’ll see people do great, but sometimes we’ll get randoms and weirdos and crazies, or sometimes people will bomb, or they’ll have an agenda beyond making people laugh, but they can always learn something from the experience.
Can UCB be a substitute for the traditional college experience?
I don’t know if I would argue UCB necessarily as a substitute for college, just because I think one of the things that is great about improv and sketch is that you get to take all the stuff you know and use it at your disposal. And it’s good to have a period in your life where you’re just learning and absorbing stuff so that you have fuel. Also, it’s nice to go off and make your dumb mistakes not in the eye of the industry. I went to college at University of Iowa and did this weekly open mike sketch show in Iowa City called “No Shame” with Paul Rust and Michael Cassady and some other guys where I got to do some of my worst, most pretentious stuff and get it out of my system. And through it I learned what I like and what I don’t like through trial and error. I’d be a little intimidated to try that in front of this theatre of people who don’t know you’re story, who don’t know this is your first time. To use a baseball analogy, someone can have a ton of talent, but only occasionally does an 18 year-old get to jump to the majors and make his mistakes on a national scale. It’s good to have the minor leagues in your plans also. That said, there are some really savvy 18 year-olds who are ready to take to the stage.
What qualities make UCB the preeminent training center and comedy theater right now?
A few things. We’re not like a factory for a specific type of performer. You can get so many different voices and there’s so much you can do with those voices, so much of what the program teaches you to do is express what you think is funny. It really is about communicating what you think is funny. So you get to see a lot of individual personalities. In art in general I think that’s what people respond to: Someone who has a strong point of view; that isn’t just doing things to try to please other people. So I think that’s part of it. Another thing is that we have stand up and sketch and all this stuff that other theaters don’t have because their stages are entirely the product of their classes. Which is a fine model, but just not how we do it. Also, we don’t pay anyone, we don’t charge anyone. And you might say, “Why would you charge anyone?” Well, if you want to put up an hour-long show in LA at a theater they’re going to charge you for the space and a tech guy and all of that. And those are things we provide for free. So a lot of the people who use our space maybe aren’t making a lot of money, so renting out a space is maybe a tougher proposition.
Working largely with young comedians, what’s the best general advice you can offer?
I say it all the time, if someone is moving to LA the best thing to do is find a community. In these big towns it’s so easy to get isolated. At UCB, there’s a community for ya. You’re going to meet friends in your classes; you’ll meet people at shows and at the bars after shows. I’ve met a ton of people through the theatre who are some of my closest friends. And maybe UCB won’t take for you, maybe it’s not your scene, but then you try some place else. But I think that’s the most important thing, finding a community of people to riff and joke with. And then another thing is, I talk to managers and try to get people shows and something I hear a lot, especially amongst comedy managers, is there’s not as much interest in someone who just does one thing or another. Of course, if someone is amazing at it, there’s gonna be interest, but I’ll recommend someone who has an awesome one-person show that they wrote and perform in, and then the person will be like, “I really just wrote it so I can perform it. I don’t really see myself as a writer.” Don’t say that! Tell them you love to write. They want people who can not only go out on auditions but also pitch ideas. Don’t ever limit yourself. When I started I thought I’d be one of the sketch guys and there would be improv guys, and I quickly found out, no, you can do it all.
Thanks for doing it all, Neil.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Not Too Shabby celebrates its five-year anniversary on July 9, 2010.
See Last Day of School every Thursday at 11 at UCB.
A Kiss From Daddy performs the first Wednesday of every month at UCB.
My name is Ben and I interviewed him.
Jan 28th
Posted by t.j. peters in Daily Blogs
2 comments
“Hey, whaddya know, it’s The Ten-Thirty Shoooow!!!” So that’s not normally how Eric Moneypenny’s calling card introduction begins, but for the trip to Sketchfest it would have been more accurate. The Midnight Show had hour-and-a-half early performances on Friday and Saturday night during last weekend’s edition of the San Francisco Sketchfest, both of which I was fortunate enough to attend. Unfortunately, since the shows ended at approximately 11:30 PM as opposed to their usual 1:00 AM, I had additional time to do more and remember less in the hours leading up to the next morning. However, I did manage to come away with a few select memories, which I’ll share with you now in this extended, two-night coverage blog entry. Friday Night Part One – Tomotel!!! Think about the Tomo Hotel like this: You know your favorite anime? Well you hate it now. Don’t like anime? Well then you just killed yourself. From the hardwood print carpet to the five foot clearance hanging lamps, every room in this Japantown paradise is like a living version of Katamari Damacy. To help put this in perspective, please take a moment to review the following mural, which was adjacent to my bed. Why do those police officers have dogs printed on them? Are the dogs also police officers? Wait, are those even police officers? Could they be train conductors? Are the dogs also train conductors? Eh, doesn’t really matter. They live in a city of façade building fronts and are about to be destroyed by a giant robot, anyway. Even if I didn’t stay up until 5 a.m. or later every night of the trip, I still wouldn’t have gotten any sleep because of that thing. Part Two – Rubix Club I will never solve a Rubix Cube and it upsets me. I will never solve a Rubix Cube blindfolded and it’s less upsetting to me. I will never solve a Rubix Cube blindfolded in a crowded, noisy bar and it definitely does not upset me. I will never solve a Rubix Cube blindfolded in a crowded, noisy bar while drinking beer and I wouldn’t expect that Jesus Christ himself could accomplish such a feat. Notice the inverse relationship between the difficulty of the Rubix Cube scenario and my feelings towards not being able to accomplish it. Now take the inverse of that and look what you get – the two fucking guys I saw who were solving Rubix Cubes blindfolded in the crowded, noisy bar while drinking beer! What?! I have to hand it to them, though. As far as “showing your true colors” goes, these guys absolutely pave the way (and then twist it on a pivot mechanism until each side is a solid color). I think it might serve people well if we all brought our obscure personal interests to the bar. The knitting needles, ping-pong paddles, and ball gags would help us figure out at a glance who we’re interested in. Personally, I would avoid the Rubix Cube guys, though. Despite the fact that there were two completed Cubes on their table, I never saw either of them complete one. Just like the guy who wears a fake Rolex or a shirt that’s too small to make his muscles look bigger, these two fools only brought the Cubes to scam on some bitches. Part Three – Honestly, This is Not Funny In a sketch titled “Philip Seymour Hoffman Calls in Sick for Work”, James Adomian plays the Oscar-winning actor as a pretentious, froggy-throated prima donna, hollering on the phone to his boss (or agent), Gary. At the height of his brilliantly over-acted excuse- which we find out by the end is all a lie- Hoffman screams, “I’m a truth teller, Gary!” in reference to his craft. The irony is perfect and it always gets a laugh out of me, as it did to Friday night’s crowd. I point out this sketch to use as sort of a scientific control. The subject of the experiment, then, occurred thirty minutes earlier in John Ennis’s monologue. In what I consider to be one of the most earnest moments I’ve ever witnessed, Ennis delivered a seven minute speech about The Midnight Show that was, in a word, truthful. I don’t mean truthful in the sense that I believe his words were factual (though I do), but rather that he meant every word he said. In an annotated version, I’ll paraphrase: It’s so exciting to work with these guys. I’ve been really lucky to host their show more than once. It’s like getting to play tuba with The Beatles. . . I’m fucking serious! These guys work so hard! They moved into a house together, so when they wake up in the morning they’re surrounded by each other! Isn’t that fucking amazing? . . . And thank you [to the audience] for doing yourself a favor and coming out to see this show because pretty soon, when they’re in the TV shows and movies you love, you’re going to look back and remember coming to The Purple Onion tonight. Result: Some awkward laughter and lackluster applause as Ennis jubilantly leapt off stage. Now I understand that the purpose of a monologue is to warm-up the audience and set the tone for the show, but in this instance I could have really cared less. Frankly, it pissed me off that the rest of the crowd couldn’t embrace what they were being given. Ennis riffed honestly. He was an actor shedding away the character and speaking the truth. And so, looking back to the control, here’s the question I’ve been asking myself since Friday night. Why is it funny to watch a character who’s full of shit call himself a truth-teller, but off-putting to a watch someone genuine actually tell the truth? Honestly, I have no idea. Saturday Night Part Four – Straight Line to Union Square The plan sounded simple enough. We’d grab a bite to eat, and then meet up with a couple people at Union Square. We’d heard it’s pretty cool there. Little did we know, all the 3G coverage in the world couldn’t save us. Before I take you along on a recreation of our travels, take a moment to study the map below, tracing our route from “A” to “B” and so on. The journey began with what I now consider to be a warm up, though at the time it felt like a cross-country trek. We walked seven blocks (which does, in fact, suck when you’re hungover and without your sunglasses) from the Tomo Hotel (“A”) to point “B”. I should have known that things weren’t going to go well when my buddy Hark translated the directions he received as, “the Doughboy on Quay,” when we were headed to The Crepevine, just past Clay Street. Somehow we made it there. After breakfast, we officially started “moving toward” Union Square. You’ll notice that Union Square can be reached on a straight line from Sutter – the street out hotel was on – and that we blew past it and continued another six blocks to “C”. It was at this point that we actually decided to consult a map. Unfortunately, the one we looked at was not topographical. Had it been, we would have noticed that after continuing to “D” and making a left, the next twelve blocks would be an eighty degree uphill climb. It didn’t take long for morale to get low. We started shedding travelers at the same rate as our sweaty clothes. (If it makes it sexier for you, please feel free to picture any or all of us completely naked.) The excuses for abandonment started off strong with reasoning such as “I’ve got to fix the DVD before the show,” but eventually devolved to departing statements like, “I’m gonna go pee over here.” I wish I would have been as smart. (Note: Once again, notice that after walking the first six blocks from “D” to “E” we had traveled an approximate total of twenty-seven blocks, yet were only one block away from our hotel.) This trend continued. The next five blocks from “E” to “F” were at least downhill, so we all had the pleasure of working out a new set of muscles, especially if you (me) were wearing heels. Once at “F”, a brief period of dawdling and toying around with the idea of walking the wrong direction passed before we moved south, taking us another six blocks to “G”. “G” brought us once again to Sutter Street, six blocks from the Tomo Hotel and eight more yet to Union Square. We had officially traveled about forty-four blocks, roughly three and a half miles, and at no point reached even the halfway point between our hotel and Union Square. So what was the next step? “Fuck it, let’s go somewhere else.” Which we did. . . in a cab. Part Five – A Picture is Worth About 2,000 Words The above photo was taken outside The Purple Onion on the night of the Friday show. If you’re interested in taking a little glimpse at the rest of weekend, check out this photo gallery I put up on Flickr. Part Six – What’s Behind the Curtain? I watched The Midnight Show perform on two consecutive nights with different hosts and altered set lists on a small, unfamiliar stage. On night one a large contingent of the crowd was old enough to remember the first time they saw Woody Allen at The Purple Onion. Night two came with a heckler and a pony-tailed douchebag (not me) who thought his off-the-cuff zingers deserved to be part of the show. Regardless of these obstacles, The Midnight Show fucking brought it both nights. Their energy from beginning to end was relentless and it translated not only to the laughs from the audience, but to the ones coming from “backstage.” I refer to the backstage in quotes because, really, there wasn’t one. Seeing as The Purple Onion is a room built for stand-up, the only place the dozen-or-so member cast could gather was a little alcove that led to the bathrooms. At best, four or five of them could fit back there (six or seven if anyone was on the can), so most of time the cast was spilling out into the back of the main room. Now I’ve seen TMS plenty of times at this point and I’ve always been able to feel their energy, but this time was different. When the lights went down and the opening began with the blaring punk rock of The Bronx, the audience would have been better served turning their seats around. Like a college football team getting ready to charge out of the tunnel, The Midnight Show jumped, thrashed, and stared each other in the eyes with a confidence that only comes from being truly talented. The only thing missing was a sign for them to tap that read “Perform Like a Champion Today.” And the beauty of it was, the energy didn’t die after the introduction. As members went to and from the stage, it was as if they were passing a torch that carried that energy, and this went on throughout the entirety of their show. By the end, the audience was holding the torch. The Midnight Show comes ready to work, but they also understand that it takes more than simply showing up to make some noise; they bring heart. It’s this dynamic that sets them apart from other comedy groups. What they’ve created is both professional and sacred. They do it for themselves, they do it for each other, and they do it with a purpose. Because of this, as they grow in strength and popularity, it will only be a matter of time before they are widely known, and people will say about their talent in a plain, almost obvious tone, “Hey, whaddya know, it’s The Midnight Show.” My name is t.j and I road blogged this. ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ Book your tickets for The Midnight Show’s monthly performances at UCB-LA by clicking here. And check out the rest of San Francisco Sketchfest’s schedule by clicking here.
“Hey, whaddya know, it’s The Ten-Thirty Shoooow!!!” So that’s not normally how Eric Moneypenny’s calling card introduction begins, but for the trip to Sketchfest it would have been more accurate. The Midnight Show had hour-and-a-half early performances on Friday and Saturday night during last weekend’s edition of the San Francisco Sketchfest, both of which I was fortunate enough to attend. Unfortunately, since the shows ended at approximately 11:30 PM as opposed to their usual 1:00 AM, I had additional time to do more and remember less in the hours leading up to the next morning. However, I did manage to come away with a few select memories, which I’ll share with you now in this extended, two-night coverage blog entry.
Friday Night
Part One – Tomotel!!!
Think about the Tomo Hotel like this: You know your favorite anime? Well you hate it now. Don’t like anime? Well then you just killed yourself. From the hardwood print carpet to the five foot clearance hanging lamps, every room in this Japantown paradise is like a living version of Katamari Damacy. To help put this in perspective, please take a moment to review the following mural, which was adjacent to my bed.
Why do those police officers have dogs printed on them? Are the dogs also police officers? Wait, are those even police officers? Could they be train conductors? Are the dogs also train conductors? Eh, doesn’t really matter. They live in a city of façade building fronts and are about to be destroyed by a giant robot, anyway.
Even if I didn’t stay up until 5 a.m. or later every night of the trip, I still wouldn’t have gotten any sleep because of that thing.
Part Two – Rubix Club
I will never solve a Rubix Cube and it upsets me. I will never solve a Rubix Cube blindfolded and it’s less upsetting to me. I will never solve a Rubix Cube blindfolded in a crowded, noisy bar and it definitely does not upset me. I will never solve a Rubix Cube blindfolded in a crowded, noisy bar while drinking beer and I wouldn’t expect that Jesus Christ himself could accomplish such a feat.
Notice the inverse relationship between the difficulty of the Rubix Cube scenario and my feelings towards not being able to accomplish it. Now take the inverse of that and look what you get – the two fucking guys I saw who were solving Rubix Cubes blindfolded in the crowded, noisy bar while drinking beer! What?!
I have to hand it to them, though. As far as “showing your true colors” goes, these guys absolutely pave the way (and then twist it on a pivot mechanism until each side is a solid color). I think it might serve people well if we all brought our obscure personal interests to the bar. The knitting needles, ping-pong paddles, and ball gags would help us figure out at a glance who we’re interested in. Personally, I would avoid the Rubix Cube guys, though. Despite the fact that there were two completed Cubes on their table, I never saw either of them complete one. Just like the guy who wears a fake Rolex or a shirt that’s too small to make his muscles look bigger, these two fools only brought the Cubes to scam on some bitches.
Part Three – Honestly, This is Not Funny
In a sketch titled “Philip Seymour Hoffman Calls in Sick for Work”, James Adomian plays the Oscar-winning actor as a pretentious, froggy-throated prima donna, hollering on the phone to his boss (or agent), Gary. At the height of his brilliantly over-acted excuse- which we find out by the end is all a lie- Hoffman screams, “I’m a truth teller, Gary!” in reference to his craft. The irony is perfect and it always gets a laugh out of me, as it did to Friday night’s crowd.
I point out this sketch to use as sort of a scientific control. The subject of the experiment, then, occurred thirty minutes earlier in John Ennis’s monologue. In what I consider to be one of the most earnest moments I’ve ever witnessed, Ennis delivered a seven minute speech about The Midnight Show that was, in a word, truthful. I don’t mean truthful in the sense that I believe his words were factual (though I do), but rather that he meant every word he said. In an annotated version, I’ll paraphrase:
It’s so exciting to work with these guys. I’ve been really lucky to host their show more than once. It’s like getting to play tuba with The Beatles. . . I’m fucking serious! These guys work so hard! They moved into a house together, so when they wake up in the morning they’re surrounded by each other! Isn’t that fucking amazing? . . . And thank you [to the audience] for doing yourself a favor and coming out to see this show because pretty soon, when they’re in the TV shows and movies you love, you’re going to look back and remember coming to The Purple Onion tonight.
Result: Some awkward laughter and lackluster applause as Ennis jubilantly leapt off stage.
Now I understand that the purpose of a monologue is to warm-up the audience and set the tone for the show, but in this instance I could have really cared less. Frankly, it pissed me off that the rest of the crowd couldn’t embrace what they were being given. Ennis riffed honestly. He was an actor shedding away the character and speaking the truth. And so, looking back to the control, here’s the question I’ve been asking myself since Friday night. Why is it funny to watch a character who’s full of shit call himself a truth-teller, but off-putting to a watch someone genuine actually tell the truth? Honestly, I have no idea.
Saturday Night
Part Four – Straight Line to Union Square
The plan sounded simple enough. We’d grab a bite to eat, and then meet up with a couple people at Union Square. We’d heard it’s pretty cool there. Little did we know, all the 3G coverage in the world couldn’t save us.
Before I take you along on a recreation of our travels, take a moment to study the map below, tracing our route from “A” to “B” and so on.
The journey began with what I now consider to be a warm up, though at the time it felt like a cross-country trek. We walked seven blocks (which does, in fact, suck when you’re hungover and without your sunglasses) from the Tomo Hotel (“A”) to point “B”. I should have known that things weren’t going to go well when my buddy Hark translated the directions he received as, “the Doughboy on Quay,” when we were headed to The Crepevine, just past Clay Street. Somehow we made it there.
After breakfast, we officially started “moving toward” Union Square. You’ll notice that Union Square can be reached on a straight line from Sutter – the street out hotel was on – and that we blew past it and continued another six blocks to “C”. It was at this point that we actually decided to consult a map. Unfortunately, the one we looked at was not topographical. Had it been, we would have noticed that after continuing to “D” and making a left, the next twelve blocks would be an eighty degree uphill climb.
It didn’t take long for morale to get low. We started shedding travelers at the same rate as our sweaty clothes. (If it makes it sexier for you, please feel free to picture any or all of us completely naked.) The excuses for abandonment started off strong with reasoning such as “I’ve got to fix the DVD before the show,” but eventually devolved to departing statements like, “I’m gonna go pee over here.” I wish I would have been as smart. (Note: Once again, notice that after walking the first six blocks from “D” to “E” we had traveled an approximate total of twenty-seven blocks, yet were only one block away from our hotel.)
This trend continued. The next five blocks from “E” to “F” were at least downhill, so we all had the pleasure of working out a new set of muscles, especially if you (me) were wearing heels. Once at “F”, a brief period of dawdling and toying around with the idea of walking the wrong direction passed before we moved south, taking us another six blocks to “G”.
“G” brought us once again to Sutter Street, six blocks from the Tomo Hotel and eight more yet to Union Square. We had officially traveled about forty-four blocks, roughly three and a half miles, and at no point reached even the halfway point between our hotel and Union Square. So what was the next step?
“Fuck it, let’s go somewhere else.” Which we did. . . in a cab.
Part Five – A Picture is Worth About 2,000 Words
The above photo was taken outside The Purple Onion on the night of the Friday show. If you’re interested in taking a little glimpse at the rest of weekend, check out this photo gallery I put up on Flickr.
Part Six – What’s Behind the Curtain?
I watched The Midnight Show perform on two consecutive nights with different hosts and altered set lists on a small, unfamiliar stage. On night one a large contingent of the crowd was old enough to remember the first time they saw Woody Allen at The Purple Onion. Night two came with a heckler and a pony-tailed douchebag (not me) who thought his off-the-cuff zingers deserved to be part of the show. Regardless of these obstacles, The Midnight Show fucking brought it both nights. Their energy from beginning to end was relentless and it translated not only to the laughs from the audience, but to the ones coming from “backstage.”
I refer to the backstage in quotes because, really, there wasn’t one. Seeing as The Purple Onion is a room built for stand-up, the only place the dozen-or-so member cast could gather was a little alcove that led to the bathrooms. At best, four or five of them could fit back there (six or seven if anyone was on the can), so most of time the cast was spilling out into the back of the main room.
Now I’ve seen TMS plenty of times at this point and I’ve always been able to feel their energy, but this time was different. When the lights went down and the opening began with the blaring punk rock of The Bronx, the audience would have been better served turning their seats around. Like a college football team getting ready to charge out of the tunnel, The Midnight Show jumped, thrashed, and stared each other in the eyes with a confidence that only comes from being truly talented. The only thing missing was a sign for them to tap that read “Perform Like a Champion Today.” And the beauty of it was, the energy didn’t die after the introduction. As members went to and from the stage, it was as if they were passing a torch that carried that energy, and this went on throughout the entirety of their show. By the end, the audience was holding the torch.
The Midnight Show comes ready to work, but they also understand that it takes more than simply showing up to make some noise; they bring heart. It’s this dynamic that sets them apart from other comedy groups. What they’ve created is both professional and sacred. They do it for themselves, they do it for each other, and they do it with a purpose. Because of this, as they grow in strength and popularity, it will only be a matter of time before they are widely known, and people will say about their talent in a plain, almost obvious tone, “Hey, whaddya know, it’s The Midnight Show.”
My name is t.j and I road blogged this.
Book your tickets for The Midnight Show’s monthly performances at UCB-LA by clicking here.
And check out the rest of San Francisco Sketchfest’s schedule by clicking here.
Jan 21st
Posted by t.j. peters in Featured Blogs
Today I journey. I’ve packed all the essentials: one pair of underwear, a book of Mad Libs®, a road trip apple pie, all the Burger King® gift cards I accrued over the holidays, and my inalienable, Patch Adams-esque passion for orphans. Just as these items are packed in my suitcase, I am too essentially a piece of luggage in the cargo deck of sketch comedy group The Midnight Show as we travel to the San Francisco Sketchfest.
For the better part of their year and a half run at the UCB Theatre L.A., I’ve been attending The Midnight Show on the first Saturday of every month – starting at (roughly) midnight – and for a smaller percentage of that time, had the pleasure of chain smoking and drinking whisky on the front porch of the “Midnight Mansion”, the veritable Bat Cave where most of the group resides. Now, as a fan and a friend, I’m looking forward to a long weekend of TMS’s break-neck sketch comedy at Sketchfest.
If you’re in the San Francisco area and want your weekend to matter, here’s a reason to check out The Midnight Show:
And if balls falling out of jean shorts isn’t your fancy, then go fuck yourself. However, alternatively, please do no fuck yourself while watching those fancy balls fall out of their jean shorts. Instead, occupy your perverted mind with one of the smartest sketches I’ve ever seen: I’m serious, folks. Tickets are still available for Friday (featuring John Ennis, Mr. Show) and Saturday (featuring Trevor Moore, The Whitest Kids U’ Know), so do yourself a favor and check it out. As for me, though I plan to document the trip as accurately as possible, my hope and intention is to report based on the fragmented reality left over from what will surely be a very fun weekend. Check back in the days to come for my Sketchfest updates. My name is t.j. and this blog is on wheels.
And if balls falling out of jean shorts isn’t your fancy, then go fuck yourself. However, alternatively, please do no fuck yourself while watching those fancy balls fall out of their jean shorts. Instead, occupy your perverted mind with one of the smartest sketches I’ve ever seen:
I’m serious, folks. Tickets are still available for Friday (featuring John Ennis, Mr. Show) and Saturday (featuring Trevor Moore, The Whitest Kids U’ Know), so do yourself a favor and check it out. As for me, though I plan to document the trip as accurately as possible, my hope and intention is to report based on the fragmented reality left over from what will surely be a very fun weekend. Check back in the days to come for my Sketchfest updates. My name is t.j. and this blog is on wheels.
I’m serious, folks. Tickets are still available for Friday (featuring John Ennis, Mr. Show) and Saturday (featuring Trevor Moore, The Whitest Kids U’ Know), so do yourself a favor and check it out. As for me, though I plan to document the trip as accurately as possible, my hope and intention is to report based on the fragmented reality left over from what will surely be a very fun weekend. Check back in the days to come for my Sketchfest updates.
My name is t.j. and this blog is on wheels.