comedy

Nuance

A fellow performer (and friend) approached me after a recent show.

“Mark, you can't say that kind of stuff. That’s not okay.”

He’s known for joking around so I thought he was just being ridiculous. But he wasn’t. He was trying to pick apart my act and had taken issue with something I’d said onstage. I was taken aback, especially since I hadn’t done anything wrong.

See, when I perform at a comedy club I do a lot of “crowd work”. Crowd work is unscripted dialogue with the audience, hopefully resulting in a funny or memorable moment. During my comedy club sets I go in search of those moments, hoping something will happen that will create a one-of-kind evening.

Crowd work is a lot like playing with fire. In today’s “woke” culture you have to be careful what you say and who you say it to. If your punchline is directed at someone who can’t take a joke then it can be a disaster. But, that’s part of the fun. Just as in life, you have to take chances to get any where interesting.

I have a few loose "rules" I try to stick to when doing crowd work, including:

  • Observe before the show.

  • Plan ahead.

  • Be fearless.

  • Don’t apologize.

  • Double down.

  • Stay in the joke.

  • Compare or contrast.

  • Ask questions.

  • Always be learning.

Let me break those down for you…

You can’t plan crowd work before you get to the show but as soon as the audience arrives you can start observing. What kind of group is it? What kind of people are they? Are there any standout people with outrageous hair or outfits or other characteristics? What stands out?

I stand to the side to watch the audience and pay attention to anything interesting I see or hear. Then the joke writing begins. By the time I take the stage I already have five jokes ready to go, so you’ll never know which ones are made up on the spot and which ones I came up with earlier. That’s part of the fun.

Crowd work can be really enjoyable since you never know where it goes. But it’s work. You don’t get to relax for a moment. While everyone else is laughing you have to plan ahead. Laughs are extra time for thinking of your next joke.

Usually my next joke is whatever pops in my head first. I try to make the jokes I’d make with a group of friends at a party but that means you have to be fearless. You’re going into uncharted territory but you have to act like this is exactly where you want to go. Otherwise, the audience will sense your nerves and won’t come along for the ride.

Sometimes jokes get a laugh or applause. Other times they’ll get a gasp or an uncomfortable shift in the room. But you can’t apologize. If you apologize once then it’s all over, so you have to double down and expand on the joke. Most of the time you just need an additional line or two to clarify what you were trying to say. Doubling down demonstrates your confidence and the audience will respond accordingly.

Jerry Seinfeld talks about staying in the joke. That means that when the audience is laughing or reacting you have to keep the same energy going. If I’m roasting an audience member and people start laughing I don’t get to break character and start laughing myself. I have to stay in the joke and keep roasting the guy. That’s how you get bigger laughs and create special moments.

Most of my favorite jokes follow the compare or contrast formula. If something funny happens I try to compare or contrast it to something relatable. Recently a guy blew his nose really loudly during a moment of silence in the show. I roasted him for it, asking him if he thought it was going to be that loud. I said, “No, you thought you got away with it. That’s like…” comparing it to something hilarious. Looking for those comparisons takes crowd work to a whole new level. (You can see what I said when the video goes live on Monday.)

If you run out of things to say, just ask questions. Ask the person where they’re from or what they do for work. They’re likely to contribute something hilarious. You’re taking advantage of the fact that people get nervous speaking in front of other people and hoping they will say something you can use for your next joke. Plus, asking questions gives you even more time to plan ahead.

The last component to crowd work is to always be learning new information. You need a large reservoir of knowledge to pull from when you start improvising with the audience. You never know what random trivia you’ll be able to use for a joke. In the past two weeks I’ve made jokes about elevators, crossword puzzles, investors, divorce attorneys, hockey, Mensa, Party City, clowns, and trombones. I try to read as much as possible, pay attention to the news, and study trivia to fill my head with knowledge. I also make notes when I think of jokes and consult the list before each show. You never know what info will come in handy!

As you can tell I put a lot of thought and energy into something that is largely impossible to rehearse or plan. But, I care about my shows being unique to every audience so I think it’s important to analyze every single part of my act.

Before a recent show I couldn’t help but notice a row of five men all dressed in similar sweater vests. The first thought in my head was that they looked like investors. They just had that vibe. I filed it away and went backstage.

Two minutes into my show one of those men called out a funny comment.

“Shut up," I said to big laughter from the room. Then I set my sights on their row. I was ready.

“Look at this row of investors…” I said, riffing on their general appearance. The men laughed, too, so I started asking questions.

Turns out the men were in attendance with their wives but they were all seated in one long line. It was the five men in a row, followed by their fives wives. I couldn’t understand the seating arrangement - if given the choice I would always choose to sit by my wife - and started roasting them for it.

I was asking one of the women to participate but I wanted to find out more. It was just too funny. We’d been making jokes for a couple minutes by this point and everyone was on board.

“Who do you belong to?" I asked, pointing back and forth from the investors to their wives. “Do the seats correspond to each other or what? Which investor is yours?” The ladies were wiping tears out of their eyes. One of the men tried to explain the seating arrangements, which were too confusing to understand.

“I didn’t want to do a Mensa puzzle tonight, I was just making conversation!” and invited my volunteer onstage to help with my next piece.

The problem was that my aforementioned performer friend only walked in before I said “Who do you belong to?” then proceeded to accost me in the dressing room calling me “old-fashioned” and “not woke”. But he hadn’t heard the whole bit. He didn’t understand that I wasn’t talking ownership, I was talking about the absurdity of the seating arrangements. It was part of a larger riff and no one in the crowd ever pulled back. Everyone got the joke, everyone was laughing, and it was a great night.

(The following night, my friend pulled me aside to apologize. He said he’d had a few too many drinks the night before and hadn’t meant what he said. I thanked him for that and all was well.)

My problem with this is that there is no nuance any more. Everyone is so quick to get outraged that we forget to look at the big picture. We forget that maybe a thought needs more than 280 characters to be expressed. Things aren’t 100% right or 100% wrong. Thoughts are messy and people are complicated.

My style has always been to gently make fun of people in the audience. It just works for me to point out the comical way that people behave or respond in the moment. And most people can take the joke. Theater audiences get it. Comedy club audiences love it. Corporate audiences might love it the most, because no one talks to CEOs that way. But I do and they go wild.

But I’ve noticed a big shift in college audiences over the past ten years. At my first college shows a decade ago I would give students a hard time and it would go over like gangbusters. But not any more. Now a silly joke about someone doing something ridiculous can be seen as “shaming” or “name-calling”. And the students don’t laugh. They don’t like it. It’s fine if you want to make fun of yourself, just don’t pick on one of the students. As my wife so brilliantly puts it, they have become “too woke to joke”.

People taking offense at jokes has been in the news a lot over the past several years. Of all the hills to die on, getting offended by a joke might be the lamest. If you don't like a joke that’s fine. You probably just don’t have a good sense of humor. But that doesn’t mean you get a refund or should go write a blog about it.

The joy of crowd work is getting to say the things that everyone is thinking. You get to point out the obvious absurdities that exist in everyday life. Everything is fair game and nothing is off limits. As Dave Chappelle says “I don’t think people pay money to see someone speak precisely and carefully. You have a responsibility to speak recklessly.” I may not always say it perfectly but there’s something fun in watching someone work out their thoughts in front of you.

The funny thing about all of this, of course, is that my crowd work is pretty tame. I’m not making fun of people’s religion or ethnicity or sexual identity. I just find it funny if someone does something a little unusual and can’t help but tease them for it.

The way I see it is that we're all a little ridiculous. We do dumb stuff and make dumb decisions. We have weird thoughts and bad opinions. We’re complicated and nuanced and people shouldn’t expect us to get it right all the time. As a result, we all should be made fun of equally. That’s the world I want to live in.


Other Thoughts:

  • Just saw Noah Baumbach’s beautiful film “Marriage Story” on 35mm at a theater in Chicago. (If you’ve never seen a film on film before you’re missing out!) It goes on Netflix in December and I highly recommend it.

  • I’ve already added some shows to my schedule in 2020. Hope to see you there.

  • Check out this week’s video:

Playing With Fire

Recently I shared a video of a hilarious moment from one of my recent shows. I spent a few minutes roasting a guy in the audience. If you pay attention to that clip you’ll see that of everyone in attendance, he was the one laughing the hardest.

As a performer you have to be aware of your surroundings. You need to be able to read the room and know what kind of environment you’re in. When you’re aware of the situation you can start pushing boundaries and taking chances. But it all depends on where you’re working.

The jokes I make at a corporate event are different from a college show. And both of those rooms are way different from the comedy clubs I work when I’m home in Chicago, which is where that clip was filmed.

That video is one of my favorite moments this year. It’s everything that I want my show to be: memorable, hilarious, fun, and totally unique to that particular audience.

Every time I do a show I’m looking for those moments. If someone does something stupid, I’m going to call them out on it. If someone says something funny, I’m going to make it funnier. And if I do something dumb, then I’m going to roast myself. (Case in point: ten years ago I ripped my pants during a show. I proceeded to ridicule myself for ten minutes. The audience loved it.)

As I was making that joke I was watching that dude and making sure he was cool with it. I was also watching his friends and listening to the rest of the room. They were all laughing. If you listen close you can even hear his friend say “This is my favorite!” Those signs were all I needed to know that I was in the clear and we could all have fun together.

Yet, some people reached out to me to tell me I was demeaning to the audience. (Someone offended and outraged in 2019? No way!) They felt I was being rude or alienating the crowd. They seemed to believe that I should perform passively and never push the envelope or have any opinions onstage.

I once heard a performer say that they didn’t do any political jokes because they “don’t want to alienate half of the audience”. Fair point. But, I feel differently about it.

I don’t want to go onstage and only say things that everyone will agree with. I don’t want to play it safe so everyone will like me. I want to go out there, say what I think, and not be scared what you think about it.

I want to play with fire.

Last weekend at my show I made a joke about “impeachment”. I had a couple Trump voters in the audience who started booing.

After the show one of those guys got in my face and said, “Leave the politics out of it!” (Hmmm, triggered much?) I laughed.

If they had been able to take a joke and not been so sensitive, they would have heard the second part of that bit where I ridicule myself and the whole “resistance” movement. But, they were too quick to boo so I had to double down.

We’re living in really strange times. There’s no nuance any more. Everything is hyper partisan and divisive. It’s exhausting.

I feel it in my audiences. I sense it in performers I share the stage with. It seeps through in everyday conversations, everything I read, and everything I watch. As my wife would say, “Everyone is too woke to joke.”

Here’s the thing: if you don’t like something, then maybe it just isn’t for you. Maybe you aren’t the intended audience. Maybe instead of complaining about it or posting bad reviews you can just go find the things that are intended for you.

If you don’t like a sandwich then don’t tweet about it, just go find a different deli.

If you didn’t like a movie you don’t have to berate the people who spent months working on it from the safety of your blog. Just find a different film to enjoy.

And if you can’t take a joke, then don’t go to a comedy club.


Other Thoughts:

  • I started a new series on YouTube called “STAGE TIME”. I’m sharing fun clips from my shows there now, so be sure to subscribe.

  • I was just on the Eager To Know Podcast. Check out my episode here.

  • Get tickets to upcoming shows.

  • I was talking to someone about a movie I saw recently and they said “Everyone online said the ending sucks so I don’t know if I’ll see it or not…” What a shame our opinions and ideas are so easily formed by stuff we see online. Maybe don’t read other people’s thoughts on a thing and decide for yourself? Recommendation: I just saw “The Peanut Butter Falcon” (not the movie I referenced above) and it was great. Don’t read a review or check Rotten Tomatoes, just go see it for yourself and enjoy.

The Worst Bomb Of My Career

It was one of the worst shows of my career.

It just happened. Just within the past few weeks.

I bombed onstage so hard that you might have thought I’d never done this before. It was ROUGH.

I should have known that it was going to be a disaster from the moment I arrived at the venue. The sound system was broken, so there would be no microphone. The room originally planned for the show had a double booking, so my act was moved elsewhere. The organizers of the event seemed busy and distracted. All signs pointed to a horrible outcome.

The new room was full of distractions. Smoothies being made loudly opposite my performance area, multiple people coming in and out of the room, and large windows behind me with no blinds to shield the sun pouring in from outside.

But, the show must go on. So with no mic and no other choice, I started the show.

Fifteen minutes in and everything was going off the rails. No one was paying attention. People couldn’t hear me or they had an obstructed view. Try as I might, my theatrically trained voice just wasn’t loud enough to command the attention I so desperately needed. I was dying a slow and painful death in front of a room of strangers and still had 45 minutes to go.

I went through my set list in my mind, quietly crossing pieces out that just wouldn’t work in this scenario. “Nope, can’t do that one. Or that one. That won’t work. Oh man, this isn’t good…” I thought to myself, as I realized that I was very nearly out of options.

I looked up at the room. A handful of people were scattered around the area, none of them paying me any mind. And I thought to myself: “Wow, I’m bombing.

Suddenly, everything changed. The second I thought those words to myself: “Wow, I’m bombing” I knew that it was all okay.

Ask any professional entertainer and they’ll tell you they’ve bombed dozens (maybe hundreds) of times. It happens to the best of us. You don’t want it to happen, but it’s inevitable. It’s going to happen eventually and forcing myself to acknowledge it made me realize that everything was going to be all right.

In that moment, I decided to lean into it and “take the L”. I didn’t have another option, so I figured I would just make the most of it. So I started heckling myself…

“Well, this is going about as well as I thought it would!” I shouted into the void, hoping one of the 12 people in the room might respond. One guy snickered from the back, so I called out to him.

“This is the only guy laughing at my jokes…what’s your name, sir?”

“I’m Mike, but shouldn’t you know that since I’m your agent?” he joked.

Without missing a beat, I responded, “Mike, you need to get me some better gigs.”

Two other students laughed from the other corner. One of them yelled out, “Tough crowd!”

“Tough crowd?” I yelled back, “I don’t see a crowd anywhere.”

In that moment, I started to feel in control of the situation. I was still bombing, it was still embarrassing and painful to go through, but I was owning it. I was so aware of the moment that I was able to laugh at my predicament and not let it bother me.

“I’m glad to see my agent agreed to my demands to be here today. I said the only way I would do a show here was if it was in the middle of the day, on a Monday, with no microphone, and that at least 80% of the students had to be facing away from me and on their laptops.”

I almost lost my voice yelling that joke, but it was worth it. Over half the room looked up and laughed in unison. They could see that I was aware of what was happening and we were all in on the joke together.

I made a few more jokes, improvised some different material to finish my hour, then called it a day. I turned to pack up my gear and couldn’t stop laughing. I had bombed but I was still alive. I felt invincible.

As I turned back to grab some props, a student asked to take a picture. I agreed. Then I noticed a small line had formed. People wanted a photo or a poster or had a question for me. All things considered, they had actually enjoyed the show and wanted to let me know. Somehow, I had made a positive out of a negative.

If that show had happened ten years ago I would have spiraled into a deep depression for weeks, regretting my life choices and questioning my abilities as an entertainer. I wouldn’t have been able to laugh it off or find any positive things about it. It might have ended my career.

But now, one decade and hundreds of shows later, I’m glad it happened. I’m glad I bombed gracefully and it didn’t keep me up at night. In fact, once I drove away from that show I wasn’t even thinking about it. It was just another gig on the road to my final destination.

Twenty-four hours later, I was back in Chicago waiting to go onstage. I wasn’t thinking about bombing the day before or questioning my life choices. I was just there, lost in the moment, concentrating on my script and hoping to really connect with that night’s audience.

It was one of the best shows of my career.


Other Thoughts:

  • I love this story of the worst time Bill Burr ever bombed. I couldn’t help but think of it as I was going through it myself.

  • Starting tonight you can catch me at the Chicago Magic Lounge all weekend! Get your tickets here.

  • I’m thinking about starting a podcast. More info on that soon!

  • I spent two miles on my run last weekend wondering how mirrors are made. If you can make it through this stupid video intro, it’s actually pretty interesting.

  • Here’s a clip from a recent show at The Second City in Chicago. Check it out:

Feedback

Ten years ago I got an email from a man I had performed with during a variety showcase. This guy criticized my act and condescendingly told me how he could have done it better because of his “years of experience” and “expertise”.

At the time I was just trying shit out onstage in hopes of getting better and finding my voice. I was young. I had no direction or style. I barely had any stage time under my belt. I was just minding my own business and here was this guy invading my inbox with his “holier than thou” attitude.

I was devastated. And upset…and angry…and shocked. So I spent the next 24 hours crafting the perfect response, sent it off, and thought to myself: “That’ll show him.”

I never heard back. But that guy’s words echoed in my brain, haunting me for weeks afterwards. And gradually I started to make changes to my show just to move on and get that email out of my head.

Even though his ideas were horrible and I didn’t have to prove myself to that guy, it still bothered me enough that I went out of my way to appease a person I’ve only seen one night in my entire life. Unbelievable.

Flash forward to this summer and a similar experience…

An audience member emailed me to give some unsolicited advice about my show. He was cordial but slightly demeaning, telling me that I shouldn’t do certain things because he didn’t like it.

My first instinct was to laugh. Seriously, who emails a performer to tell them to change their act? If I don’t like something I just move on and assume it wasn’t for me to begin with…

After that, I started thinking about how to respond. I needed to be firm, but polite. I wanted to hold my ground and explain myself. But then I caught myself and had a wonderful realization: “I don’t owe this guy anything.”

I realized that it was a horrible decision to let one person dictate the direction of my show. No single person should have a say in my material, my wardrobe, my style, or my approach to performance. The only person who decides where I’m going is me.

It took me a decade of shows and thousands of comments, messages, calls, and e-mails to understand that, but when that thought came into focus it was crystal clear:

“No one else gets to determine the direction I’m going in.”

As I was sitting at my desk, pondering that email, another alert came in. It was another email, from a different audience member who had been at the same exact performance. She wrote:

I was at your Friday night show. I was visiting my in-laws and suggested an adult night out for the six of us for dinner and your show. I was slightly nervous planning this evening, because what if the show was a flop?!?! The most difficult to please person said to me on the way out, “this was a winner.” Yay for you and me!! Ha ha! I loved that you got so many people involved in your show, made it personal and interactive. You are witty and engaging and I was sad when it ended! Days later and we are still talking about your act. Well done. I’ll have my eye out for you to come to my area. Best of luck with your career - you do fantastic work!

Talk about perfect timing. That was all I needed to hear to know that I was on the right path.

Oh, and I only responded to one of those emails…but I’m sure you put that together already.


Other Thoughts:

  • Comedian Gary Gulman has been sharing brilliant tips of twitter all year. (Coincidentally as I was working on this post this week he posted this tweet. Glad to see I was thinking on the same page as one of the greats.) If you’re looking to be a better writer/performer or just enjoy good stand up, you should probably go follow him.

  • All upcoming shows are posted here.

  • Are you subscribed on YouTube? I have some awesome video projects coming up soon.

  • Here’s a killer photo from a gig last week at Stony Brook University in Long Island: