In my first years of comedy I really thought I was going to remain coaching, teaching, and become a corporate and church comic. It felt very organic and possible as I was already working clean and connected to churches through my experience in Christian education, marketing, and having filmed a Dry Bar Special. But nothing in the church based comedy world manifested. I even joined a few Facebook groups to try to get gigs. Nothing came of it. In fact, I only got one church gig on my own. It was a multi-generational Chinese church, and I was asked to intertwine a sermon into the act. Which was fine, but I realized that my dream of just doing comedy in the Christian market was going to be harder than I realized.
What got me really focused on the market was one particular comic I had befriended on Facebook and Instagram. Let's just call him Christian Cross, to protect the innocent. His story is one of the saddest tales I ever saw play out through social media, a warning to young comics all over the club, church, college, and corporate scenes that you should always under promise and overdeliver. Christian Cross was not that comic. Today he's not really doing stand up. He's become a cautionary tale for those who reach for the prize too soon, only to stumble. The Set Up Like me, Christian Cross was about two or three years into stand up. A family man, he attended all the Christian Comedy Association events and was able to book well over 50 high paying church gigs requiring an hour of comedy. At first, I was a bit jealous. Then I saw his stand up clips and I became enraged. It was bad. Hacky bits filled with long stretches of silence. Terrible impressions. Bad timing. Weird setups with punchlines like "butt-head" and "poopoo face." I thought, how did he get all this work? Then I realized, he asked. As the Bible says, "ask and you shall receive." One Year Later I decided to mute the stories and posts of Christian Cross, as he was living my desired life. I toiled away at clubs and worked on my writing. I ran bar shows, country club events, and eventually started teaching classes. Things were moving at a solid pace. Then a buddy mentioned he ran into Christian Cross. I asked how he was doing. I was told he had a Comedy Special coming out. WHAT? HOW? WHY? I let my worst parts of my soul take over me. Not an attractive look, to say the least. Two Years Later My Dry Bar Special has come out by this point; before his special. I'm feeling good about my future as we are coming out of Covid-19. I'm booking shows nationwide. Things are comings together. Then my YouTube suggests Christian Cross's comedy clips. I tried to watch. It was atrocious. Bad puns. Weird church culture jokes. It was a really hard watch. I'm thinking he's making a fortune as I'm struggling but moving forward. Jealousy and envy are not healthy emotions. They can cloud your mind and create decisions that aren't based in good will or love, but out of fear. Not very "Jedi" of me, to say the least. Why did I let this one guy create so much animosity and frustration? Maybe it was because he had the "courage" to grab the comedy bull by the horns, whereas I just thought I wasn't ready to make bigger leaps and take financial risks. Yet, I didn't really know him. For all I know he was unsatisfied in his career, life, marriage, etc. I decided to see how his career was panning out by doing a little internet deep dive. But a funny thing happened when I went to look at his website. It was almost non-functional. Videos wouldn't play, and it looked abandoned. He had no bookings coming up. Like I wrote, the website was barely accessible to use. I checked Christian Cross's Facebook and Instagram. Nothing. I then realized Christian Cross was no longer was touring. In fact, I heard from others that he bombed so hard, the churches and groups that booked him, refused to bring him back. And after his special dropped, bookers took away gigs upon watching it. According to his social media accounts he moved to a smaller state and performs in afternoon county fair shows...sometimes. Never before in my life did I feel both vindicated and utterly depressed and saddened. I really don't like celebrating in the downfall of anyone. I really do want everyone to succeed, but sometimes a petty part of me rises up and reveals a hole in my character. This is such a case. Lessons Learned So here I was super jealous of his career, yet it was those very same career moves that were creating future blockages and eventual rejections. You don't really know where anyone's path will take them, and you don't really know how anyone is really progressing in this industry. Sometimes the comic passed at all the big clubs is making no money, stuck in a cycle of performing for chump change while living off the "exposure" that club gives them. Sometimes the comic with a million followers on Tik Tok isn't getting the conversion of fans from views to paid seats. And sometimes the comic opening for a few big named headliners is miserable feeling chained to their schedule and whims. I was wrong about Christian Cross. I thought he punched a one way ticket to success, and nothing could be further from the truth. Don't Feel The Need To Fly Too Close To The Sun I know we all want to make the money, get the gigs, and take on the comedy markets that we think will be the start of a great relationship. But the sad sad story of Christian Cross reminds me that you can network all you want, book everything, over promise on your abilities, and collect the checks, but if you aren't really ready, you destroy your future. You can only make a first impression once. And while no one expects you to be Robin Williams in year two, you shouldn't try to force the hand before others start giving it to you as well. If you think you are ready, and you really aren't, then what feels like a blessing becomes a curse. Too often comics want the "main stage" and think they'll rise to occasion. It's just not true. No one ever got "funnier" because more people showed up or the stage expanded. Or the headliner was famous and the crowd thinks you're their disciple. Christian Cross didn't know this. He thought he was making a good choice. Yet, he flew too close to the sun and now he's stuck playing 2pm shows in a place farther away from his dreams than he thought. Final Thoughts I don't want to punch down, but I feel like these stories need to be shared so people are reminded that they can work hard and network and get the credits, but if you aren't in a place to handle the responsibility of headlining, you won't sizzle - you'll fizzle. Comedy is a long game. There's a reason most comics say it takes at least 10 years to find your voice, and years later to feel like you really know what you're doing. Jerry Seinfeld said your years in comedy is your age in comedy. If you've been doing comedy for five years, then you're a five year old on stage. Christian Cross was 2 years old when he got the calendar filled. It's not filled anymore. Be grateful for slow starts and small beginnings. Crawl before you walk. Walk before you run. Run before you Sprint. And if you sprint fast enough, you might get so famous you'll be hated by half the country and have a Dark Side of Comedy episode dedicated to you down the road. And in all reality, isn't that the real goal? (It's not, but I love irony)
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It’s 1999 and I’m a senior in high school January through June. I’m preparing for my wrestling team’s league finals, graduation, and getting Episode I The Phantom Menace tickets. By July I quit my job at MANN movie theaters. By August I’m a full time college student, majoring in film, and I’m an assistant wrestling coach at Simi Valley High School. Oh, I’m also holding down 30+ hours a week at Costco in the gas station. Yet, with all the business, I’m still an avid movie goer. And what a year to go to the movies.
The 1990’s was maybe the most significant decade in cinema history. More and more multiplexes were being built, with AMC leading the charge, and the rise of independent cinema in the early to mid 90’s escalated to the place where films like The Full Monty and Good Will Hunting could compete at the box office and Oscars. So by 1999, the lines between high profile studio products and low budget art house films had blurred. With more experimental filmmakers like David Fincher, Spike Jonze, and Paul Thomas Anderson blending epic camera work, big stars in quirky, eccentric character driven stories filled with social commentary and fantasy elements (frogs falling from the sky, John Malkovich as a human puppet, and split personalities in Tyler Durden) the landscape of film was now a Pandora’s box of pleasures in big theaters with real marketing campaigns. 1999 would by the climatic end of a decade that has some of the most beloved filmmakers and actors still relevant today, 25 years later. Already, The Mummy and Episode I re-releases have been successes, showing how a quarter of a century later this year of cinema holds a special place in our cinema subconscious and zeitgeist. After recently rewatching Episode I on the big screen, I decided to look back at the year that was 1999. A few takeaways that I didn’t mention above: 1. Many great filmmakers including Stanley Kubrick, Martin Scorsese, Woody Allen and Milos Foreman produced forgotten gems. Plus this was the year the world, for better or worse, was introduced to M. Night Shyamalan. Alexander Payne became an Oscar nominated filmmaker with Election, his political satire that still feels fresh and contemporary today. Of course, George Lucas returned to the directors chair 22 years after A New Hope. 2. A few major sequels and tentpole franchises came out this year that are still beloved including Toy Story 2 and Austin Powers 2: The Spy Who Shagged Me. The Mummy, American Pie, and The Blair Witch came out this year; say what you want about their sequels, each of the series made a lot of money and produced spin offs and influenced a lot of filmmakers to make their own similar films. Blair Witch alone inspired the “found footage” genre, and American Pie revamped the gross out teen comedies the early 80’s were known for. The Mummy films made The Rock a star, and there have been a lot of dessert action films trying to recapture this film’s magic. 3. 1999 was also clearly a man in crisis, mid-life despair era in films. Bringing Out the Dead, Fight Club, American Beauty, Office Space and Being John Malkovich all dealt with the themes of men losing power and connection to their own lives and trying to get it back through sex, violence, work, and art. Sometimes mixing all four together. What a time it was to be alive. The Top 25 List I’m excited to share these 25 films. While we can fuss over the order, here are the films 25 years later that still seem to hold a place within our society, and for me, a place in my movie loving heart. I could easily list another 20 that deserve recognition like The Matrix, The Phantom Menace, and other bigger budget fair, but they didn’t crack my top 25. So here you go, you filthy animals. The Top 10 1. Magnolia 2. Fight Club 3. Being John Malkovich 4. Eyes Wide Shut 5. Toy Story 2 6. The Talented Mr. Ripley 7. The Sixth Sense 8. The Green Mile 9. American Beauty 10. Office Space Paul Thomas Anderson’s sprawling masterpiece is a reminder that films must be alive to be remembered. A biblical allusion wrapped in a Robert Altman structured fairy tale, interlocking the lives of many Los Angeles strangers is still the most transformative film going experience I had in a cinema. Of course, Fincher’s Fight Club is more beloved now than when it came out, And while many don’t feel American Beauty and The Green Mile have aged well, I still see all the metaphorical beauty, solid writing, and acting on the screen with every viewing. Eyes Wide Shut is as haunting as it first was, and The Sixth Sense is the poster child for smart horror films, which has become a new norm now with A24 owing a lot to Shyamalan reinventing the genre. The Talented Mr. Ripley is such a perfect thriller. Toy Story 2 is Pixar’s masterpiece with “When She Loved Me” still extracting tears upon every viewing. And don’t get me started on the cultural influence Office Space had my generation with “Someone has the case of the Mondays,” the Bobs, and PTS reports becoming regular office jokes. Then there is Being John Malkovich, the most wildly original screenplay that year. Every scene is a masterclass in originality. I would argue if you catch me later in the week, I’d have this as the best film of 1999. The Films We Can’t Forget The next 15 films are all wonderful watches. No reason to rank them, but let’s just say their order isn’t too far off. The quirky fantasy/sci-fy comedies Galaxy Quest and Dogma were both funny and challenging in different ways. Bringing Out the Dead established Nicolas Cage as the king of weirdo character leading men, and The Big Kahuna was that lost film about God and sales conventions where Danny Devito gave the best performance of his career. Jim Carrey bled for us playing Andy Kauffman, Phil Collins bled for us writing music for Tarzan, and Run Lola Run was a thrill ride for the ages. Eddie Murphy and Martin Lawrence gave us two of their best performances in Life, and Kirsten Dunst deserved more awards consideration for her beauty pageant satire Drop Dead Gorgeous. The Insider was Michael Mann’s thriller without all the gun shots, and The Hurricane gave Denzel Washington a shot to win his second Oscar at the time. All of these are worth searching for on streaming and VOD. All of them are worthy of two hours of your life, because they just might improve it upon watching. Bringing Out the Dead Galaxy Quest Dogma Election The Insider The Big Kahuna The Blair Witch Project Man on the Moon The Hurricane Run Lola Run Tarzan Drop Dead Gorgeous Sweet and Lowdown American Pie Life If there is one word I would never want to be called it's "pathetic." That word makes me angry. When I meet pathetic people, I dissociate from them immediately. Pathetic people are desperate and dangerous. They ask for more than they can handle, and then they fumble the ball immediately. Often, when I meet comics who are pathetic, I get aggravated quickly. Pathetic comics can ruin a show, and become taxing on a comedy producer. Pathetic comics don't get rebooked on good shows often. So here are a few things pathetic comics do that ruin their future opportunities.
Discipline is the Opposite to Patheticness I'm a pretty gentle person (despite my harsh tone here). I appreciate and admire kindness. Many don't. Many consider these traits as weak, when in fact, those people are the truly weak ones. They hate having to "wait their turn" or "pay their dues." They bully people into getting what they want and then leave them behind as they attempt to climb the ladders of success. Patheticness isn't being patient or kind, or even being taken of advantage of. If anything, strong people can show kindness and mercy and forgiveness, weak people cannot. The opposite of patheticness is not strength, but in fact, is discipline. Having a strong work ethic and work philosophy will help you get through the good and the bad. Pathetic comics yell at the audience when their set goes bad. Disciplined comics find a way to get back on track. Pathetic comics blame the room every time. Disciplined comics reflect on what they should have done better. Pathetic comics want to seek revenge on those who hurt them. Disciplined comics want to level up so they don't have to worry about those comics hurting them. Being disciplined, kind, and organized will stop you from being perceived as pathetic. Pathetic Comics Create a False Reality For Themselves Pathetic comics lie about their successes. If I named off how many comics tried to portray themselves as participants at the Netflix is a Joke festival, when they had nothing to do with it, I'd have to send out three newsletters this week. I saw comics taking pictures at venues making it look like they were part of the action, and that is a real pathetic move. While some might argue, "fake it until you make it," all these comics are doing is creating fake earned praise. I see this with comics who write on Facebook they got recognized on the street by fans, when they never even perform at large venues. Or comics who tell people they are a regular at big clubs (by doing bringers). Or comics who try to play up their connections and name drop celebrities they met once in passing. I get that some people have to make the family back home jealous, but when the locals who know their story see this, they become weary of booking them because they know these are the people who talk a big game but can't deliver. This is patheticness on display. Having A Sexist Mentality is a Road to Patheticness Dealing with fragile male egos was not on my Comedy Career Bingo Card when starting out. Yet, dealing with comics who say disparaging things about comics who are making it because they are women is real and disgusting. Often, I'll have to remind male comics in their 40's that they are not going to get the same opportunities younger comics get. But they only seem peeved when a woman gets the opportunity. "Why did she get that spot?" "Why are they booking her?" Then I tell them they sound pathetic and hypocritical by never asking why that venue keeps booking male comics in their 40's and 50's. Some have had a real epiphany about their world view, and others have just call me a simp. Pathetic men like that word "simp" too, because they don't see the value in treating everyone with dignity. I know men who would never question helping a buddy but if the gender in trouble is a woman, they'd be all over calling a man a white knight, as if chivalry is dead. I once was working with a comic who wanted to make fun of his wife going through old age. It was a really mean spirited bit. When I suggested taking all the new behaviors and turning the joke on himself for having the same issues, he was flabbergasted, as his main objective was to knock his wife down a notch. He thought he was being like his male comedy heroes. He sees them in front of their crowds getting cheers for being "edgy" and doesn't understand that these comics are on a ticking time bomb before their audience turns. This style of comedy was popular in the early 1990's and eventually left the comics spewing it broke and depressed. Watching some of these Netflix is a Joke lineups, you'd think there were just all male shows in comedy. In a recent Netflix group photo dump on their page, there was a group photo of 60-70 comics, in which 17 were women. Most performed together on the same show. The after parties were just group photos of (balding) men. Even the Roast of Tom Brady only had Nikki Glaser and Sam Jay. Imagine if they would have invited Laurie Kilmartin, Whitney Cummings, Sarah Silverman, or even Brady's ex-wife. And then people wonder why male bookers proudly only book all male shows. They learned it from their comedy step-dads. "Bro" mentality is really just misogyny by a different name. Begging for Stage Time is Pathetic Pathetic comics beg for stage time every chance they can. Disciplined comics ask about the requirements to get booked. Pathetic comics hear about a show and ask to be on it immediately. Disciplined comics give a few dates that work or ask when the next opening is. Pathetic comics ask for a spot in the comments section on Instagram and Facebook. Disciplined comics like the post and take note it exists. Don't just try to build out a calendar. Build relationships. Asking a close friend is fine. Asking strangers as soon as you see a post, is desperate. What has usually happened here is they once asked abruptly and got a spot, but then strike out again and again, but don't admit it's not working. Even posting on Facebook they are looking to be booked is a sign of patheticness, because it puts the responsibility on everyone else to reach out to them. Build relationships within the community, build value, build an act, and ask when you think you're ready. I was guilty of this in my earlier years after seeing this behavior. But when I realized how icky it made me feel, I stopped. Facebook memories is a cruel reminder of the dumb things I tried starting out. Perpetually Late is Perpetually Pathetic Comics who are late to shows, late to respond back, late to send pictures for flyers, late to cancel in a reasonable time, and late to the game in any way are pathetic. As a comic who runs a lot of shows as well as travels, tardiness in any way is a turn off in building a working relationship. I really don't care that you're busy or you don't "check your messages." If you want to be a successful professional comic, you have to transcend into becoming the type of comic who sees time as money and as a valuable commodity. Recently, a comic begged to be on a show of mine. Then on the day of the show they texted me they would be forty minutes late and to just put them up later in the lineup.. You know, after the headliner. I texted back, show up on time or not at all. Oh my, did they show up on time. Just for the record, I will not be booking them again. This has happened too many times with too many one and done comics. Being late only adds stress to an already stressful event. Sometimes I'll message a comic and they won't get back to me for a couple days. Fine. But I'm moving on after a day. Then they'll get back to me and say, "I was really busy." Too busy to get work? Or too busy to confirm? I'm sure life has moments where you can't respond, but it feels like a lack of taking on responsibility. Again, the discipline to be professional is what separates the pros from the cons. Asking for Advice About Everything For Free Makes You Look Pathetic Asking for advice is an act of strength. Learning about an industry and wanting to get better is something I would encourage all of us to do. But there are times and places and protocols. I would encourage people who want "free" advice to take a comic to coffee or a meal. Many are fine with mentoring, but constantly texting "should I do..." or "how do you..." gets old when you barely know them or even when you're best friends. The trick to success is epic failure. Trying something on your own terms can be a thrilling adventure. Failure is not pathetic. Not learning from failure is pathetic. Trust me, if you're doing something so wrong it's embarrassing, your true friends will pull you aside and straighten you out. But asking them about every turn is a one way ticket to losing your connections. I've found that people afraid to fail are the most pathetic people. They want all the glory with none of the pain. They're like the guy who joins a gym, takes advantage of a free personal trainer session, take all the supplements, but then don't actually lift the weights because they're too scared they won't lift as much as they thought they could. Final Thoughts I write these things because I want to see you win. I want to see you not take short cuts or back roads. In the last ten years I saw a lot of comics either never move past their first year mentality or they become bitter and desperate. None of those outcomes have to be your reality. Slow and steady wins the race. If you put in the work, wait for the right opportunities, act professional, and help others in the most pragmatic ways possible, you will find success. Patheticness stems from lacking discipline and embracing ignorance as a virtue. Even if you find short term gain in acting like I described above, the long term residuals are costly. As I navigate my 10th year in stand up comedy, I feel the need get this out on paper at least once. Don't be fooled by contemporary trends, but look at the long term. A great example is the comic Andrew "Dice" Clay who found himself riding a wave of unprofessionalism and anti-women rhetoric, only to watch his kingdom crumble fast and hard. It's easy to get to the top quickly if you steal jokes, copy personas, and feed into the lowest common denominator. But what does it profit a man if he inherits the whole world but loses his comedy career? Many people don't know that I have a Masters in Film Theory. In fact, I was a film major my first two years of college before switching over to English to pursue teaching and a life of poverty. I then double-downed on my poor economic decisions in 2015, when I started doing stand up comedy. What I learned in both my stand up journey and cinema studies is that comedy changes. In the 1920's and 1930's vaudeville and broad humor was all the rage. By the 1950's we saw the creation of late night hosts with one liners. Political counter-culture jokes were the main style in the 1960's and 1970's, and by the 1980's we saw impressionists, prop comics, and observational comedy fill the clubs and Vegas showrooms. Stand up went from the "you" to the "I" in the 1990's and 2000's, and today crowd work and one minute clips are how we digest our favorite comedians. The journey is real.
Comedy television shows and films have gone through a similar transformations. The 1950's "Father Knows Best" comedies have very little resemblance to the 1990's "Father Knows Nothing" star vehicles. Now we have no four camera sitcoms, and comedies today are drenched in melancholy. Then there's 1980's teenager comedies, filled with Porky's antics are not the same punchlines as Will Ferrell's run of films in the mid-2000's. So imagine my surprise when watching Jerry Seinfeld's passion project Unfrosted, about the creation of the Pop Tart, he broke away from the modern socially conscious comedy model to return to a mesh of Mel Brooks' classic genre spoofs and Naked Gun parodies with a hint of Stanley Kubrick's screwball antics from the 1960's. Seeing the reviews of Unfrosted, I feel the need to Moomsplain what just might be the purest comedy of the past 20 years. Today, pure comedies don't really exist. Oh, there are comedies, but they are films with the point of view to turn once taboo subjects mainstream like in the lesbian comedy Bottoms, or to reveal middle American racism in the Borat films, or the comedy is wrapped in action stories like Guardians of the Galaxy. And of course there is the popular dramedy genre like CODA or The Martian, where everyday heroes overcome great strides, which clean up at awards season. So where did the broad, bold, gag-per-second comedies go? Well, like many genres, including comic book films, westerns, and romantic comedies, there appears to be a fatigue, which other genres take advantage of and redefine the standards and expectations audiences put on actors. Why make a gag per minute film, when the the protagonist can have one comic relief sidekick, and everyone gets their kicks? So we no longer ask why the chicken crossed the road but ask how the chicken felt while crossing the road. We also see political climate change our needs for cinematic experiences. After 9/11, Will Ferrell's shtick as a George W. Bush buffoon clone in Anchorman, Talladega Nights, and Step-Brothers played well. But in a post-Obama society, where gay marriage is legal and most people support a woman's right choose, the desire to escape in simple comedy stories feels almost inappropriate. How else can you explain Ferrell doing the same thing and audiences rejecting it? You can't say "it's not funny" but you can say "it's not funny anymore." The world is changing, progressive ethos is winning; can comedy be broad and treated unceremoniously in today's post-feminist, post-gay marriage, post-Covid world? Maybe in some ways the price of moving forward is that our tastes change as we mature. Today, comedy gags are strategically placed in movies to release the tension of heavy hitting topics and drama. The days of Robin Hood and his men in tights singing songs is gone. Dr. Frankenstein's monster is not having hot food poured on his lap. Putting comics in fat suits and having them fart wouldn't get greenlit today. And Shirley has to be serious now. If you didn't get those references, then you probably won't get Unfrosted, a zany, silly, goofy, over-the-top, gag filled treat for the eyes and ears. It's basically a Pop Tart in of itself. So if you like your movies more like Grape-Nuts with some blueberries, this isn't for you. Fans of The Zone of Interest and The Lobster can go smell their own wind somewhere else. The film co-written, directed, produced, and starring 70-year-old Seinfeld is a love letter to 1960's nostalgia and an ode to a type of films we don't see anymore. Thinly layered as the story about the cereal wars between Kellogg's and Post, it's a satire and spoof of the product creation movies. Like Air, The Founder, and the Steve Jobs films, Unfrosted "recreates" history. But unlike those serious films with sprinkled in jokes, this film approaches the material like Mel Brooks approached genre westerns or gothic horror novels. Had Seinfeld not played the fictious Bob Cabana at Kellogg's, Leslie Nielson could have. At a sharp, tight 90 minutes, every scene is an excuse to recreate 1960's nostalgia or broad visual gags. Once you realize Cabana threatens Snap, Crackle, and Pop (as if they're real people) with a new, cheaper mascot or Jim Gaffigan, as the heir to the Kellogg estate, secretly yearns to be with Marjorie Post (Amy Schumer), you realize this isn't a behind-the-scenes tell all expose on capitalism and food creation. It's a big, bold, comedy less interested in historical fact and more interested in comedic possibilities involving a very bitter Tony the Tiger leading a January 6th revolt to save his job. If you haven't watched the film on Netflix yet, I'm going to give light spoilers, but nothing that ruins the film. The tone of Unfrosted isn't like contemporary comedic cinema. Filled with sight gags like boxed cereals called Grandma's Holes or a funeral with milk and cereal poured over the casket, the jokes are clear, in your face, and not hard to understand. Snobs need not watch. This isn't Poor Things, an epic feminist tale about finding your place in the world. It's not even Barbie; though both share bright, fun sets, over-the-top performances, and Greta Gerwig's best picture nominee is also a riff on the product creation genre. Yet, while they have that in common, there is no scene at the end where Gaffigan or Seinfeld talk to the Pop Tart about it's true identity. There is no pastry patriarchy to fight. But there are "Big Milk" milkmen with their farting cows. Critics are mixed, with a 39% on Rotten Tomatoes (as of writing this article) and a 57% audience reaction score. I wouldn't say it's "panned," as there are plenty of films under 20% in the reviews department. Adam Sandler's comedies seem to be the go-to punching bag for critics with films like his 2018 The Week Of with Chris Rock sitting at 27%. Though the 57% audience score does show crowds are confused, with my guess, it being people under 35 not "getting it." Unfrosted has plenty of people who do get it though. Mostly, people over 40. Here's the open secret about films: They're all made for kids, teens, and Gen Z. They all have contemporary references and try to appeal to people who are more interested in Tik Tok and Instagram drama. This film is directly aimed at people aware that the 1960's happened, that the Cold War and the space race existed, and that breakfast was once considered the most important meal of the day. My mother loved it. Meanwhile, Unfrosted is filled with topics and characters that haven't been at the forefront in comedy for decades. Jokes about JFK (Bill Burr) sleeping with The Doublemint Twins, NASA employees (Melissa McCarthy as "Stan" is a hysterical angry gem as always) creating Tang, and even the idea of organized milk men are concepts people under 40 wouldn't get. As a 42 year old comedy and film connoisseur, these popular cultural figures and gags are deep within my psyche. Younger generations might struggle to find humor in JFK calling his now dead son "slow," but to a person aware of the characters being spoofed, they'll appreciate the dark humor laced throughout the film - it's a refreshing breath of sugary air. A type of comedy cocaine - it hits hard and forces you to react in some way. Another clear influence on display is Stanley Kubrick's brilliant Cold War satire Dr. Strangelove: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb - with important men in suits also being over the top and ridiculous. In that film a soldier rides the bomb after it's tossed from a plane. In this one, the man who created the Schwinn bicycle gets a tragic ending in similar fashion. In fact, Unfrosted plays up both the Cold War and contemporary political turmoil, but without judging. It's as if those events happened just to be spoofed. Where Aaron Sorkin or Adam McKay would have taken January 6th material into hard social commentary, Seinfeld & Co. see it as a way for mascots to climb buildings like inefficient Spider-Men. It is just a sight gag to admire, not a point to be made. I dedicated my newsletter to this one silly yet funny film because I think its important to remember that while socially conscious comedy is important, so are jokes. As humor changes, our sensibilities change too. "Seinfeld," the TV show, was another silly comedy with little to no social commentary. In fact, the show about nothing spoofed the assassination of JFK, used Junior Mints as a medical device, and mocked those who made you wear the ribbon in protest marches. No moral lessons were ever learned, and that was the charm. So when Unfrosted hit Netflix, why would we expect any different from the master of nothing? I mean who are these people hating on a pure comedy about Pop Tarts? And when did they lose their sense of humor? Over the past thirty years there have been a lot of TV shows and movies about stand up comedy. A few get it right. Some are just blah. And a lot just suck. With Netflix's dark comedy "Baby Reindeer" becoming a hit and Emmy contender, and "Hacks" back on HBO/Max, there are a few shining beacons on a hill, but generally speaking, trying to translate the emotional and physical journeys of life on the road has been a tough cookie to crack for even the best producers, writers, and actors. There are a lot of reasons why, but let's look at the problematic structure of trying to create art that glamorizes the sad clown and ends up disrespecting the work that goes into the process of telling drunk people jokes.
Time to Stop Romanticizing the Sad Clown I remember I was a couple years into stand up when HBO's show "I'm Dying Up Here," about the rise of The Comedy Store in the 1970's, came on air. The pilot episode is about a good looking comic who got The Tonight Show, kills it, and then kills himself. Now his comedy buddies continue their journey to also reach the top of the mountain in some type exercise of self-torture. While the show was well acted and well produced, I kept asking myself, "Why is everyone so sad?" While there clearly depressed comics, like there are depressed teachers and depressed accountants, this archetype cannot be the norm. Out of that 70's era came Steve Martin, Jerry Seinfeld, Albert Brooks, Jay Leno, and David Letterman. While I'm sure they faced their demons, the general attitude is these guys are well adjusted comics. Sure, many others fell by the wayside, but the show was focusing on the top comics, not just open micers. So to play it off like they were all desperate and drug infused and empty feels lie a mythology that never really added up. The movies Punchline and Funny People also addressed this mythos, but failed with critics and audiences. How? One stared Tom Hanks and Sally Field in a retelling of how housewife Rosanne Barr became a comedian, and Adam Sandler played an egomaniac comedian who becomes Seth Rogan's boss in the other. Both should have been huge hits. Both flopped. Because the little dark secret is that audiences DON'T want to see that our court jesters are these awful, dark people. People see comics as the life of the party. If Van Gough is a depressed misunderstood artist - fine. If rock stars are drug using poets - whatever. But leave the funny guys alone. These quiet cries for help doesn't feel real. Shouldn't they be enjoying some of this success? And not simply in a hedonistic self-serving way? Stand Up Scenes in Scripts is Cringe Go watch any Netflix comedy special you like and you'll probably laugh a little if not a lot. Same goes with a late night set. I can watch a few favorite comics do their "Conan" sets multiple times. Now go watch a movie or TV show where a comedian is doing the same thing on stage, and I DARE you to laugh. You won't. In fact, it comes off as cringy and forced. Why? Because there's no life or energy in staged stand up. You cannot stage forced laughter. The high wire tension is gone in a scripted series or film. Chris Rock in "Bring the Pain" is a walking firecracker challenging his crowd with every setup and punchline. Watching Chris Rock do stand up near the end of the film in Top 5 is so different. The crowd throwing their head back just doesn't feel real. He's maybe the funniest comic in the world, but in a feature film or TV show, somewhere in the editing and sound mixing his punchlines just don't land the same way. This is across the board. "Hacks," a very solid show, gives a lot of insight to the comedy world, but the parts I always find less authentic is the stand up portions. The show's character banter could be taught in a UCLA screenwriting course, but when the characters get on stage to tell zingers, all believability goes out the window. It becomes like those poorly edited sport film shots in slow motion where the basketball flies through the air and all the characters look up to watch it swoosh or bounce off the rim. While these moments move the plot forward, and are necessary evils, they are not how we actually experience these moments. Stand up comedy included. Stand up is a personal experience. Having everyone laugh NEVER happens in real life. It might feel like everyone is on board, but every comic knows when you hit the big laugh and it comes back to you, all you see is the one guy NOT laughing. Film never translates that well. Bombing Can Be Filmed is Done Correctly If there is one aspect of stand up that can be shown correctly, it's the art of bombing. Joker, "Baby Reindeer," and The King of Comedy do nice job of showing the horrors of bombing, while also embracing the delusion of believing the set went well. While I cringe at bad staged stand up, my heart aches empathetically when they show the sinking ship of bombing on stage. In the new show "Baby Reindeer," our protagonist goes to Edinburgh Fringe, only to be met with small crowds and confused patrons. This felt real, and played into the real journey comics deal with. When his show suddenly becomes a hit, I was utterly confused. What was the difference? The TV show, for all its successes, lost me in that moment. Maybe the best example of bombing in a film is in Albert Brooks brilliant afterlife comedy Defending Your Life. When the Brooks' character Daniel finds himself in purgatory, he visits a comedy club and the comic is dying on stage. Which is beautifully ironic because they're in the afterlife. I guess hell is a never ending open mic. The Fast Track To Success Isn't Real Maybe the greatest sin is the way these shows and movies give people a fast track to success. "The Marvelous Mrs. Mazel," "Crashing," "I'm Dying Up Here," and even Man on the Moon hint that we are all like the female lead in A Star is Born. If just one person sees us, we can be headlining in days. Or getting writing jobs. Or crowd warm up jobs. Or cruise ships. From a story point, it makes sense. Exposing the workings of bad open mics do not make good TV. But the illusion of overnight success is a caricature that actually promotes the false narrative that comics can "just make it" if they get up on that one magical night. It's also why so many comics beg for stage time, thinking after their 5 minute showcase a big agent will discover them. That's just not true. And these stereotypes create expectations that are unfair. I've written before about comics maxing out credit cards thinking they'll make it big later, only to find themselves thousands in debt and still making $25 a show. I've actually had people give me career advice saying, "on Miss Mazel this is what she did..." and I have to remind them that it's a fake show about a fake person. The reason "Hacks" works is because the main character is being showcased at the end of her life, and her writer Eva is just starting out, with roommates and struggling to create her own voice. It feels real. It feels like they really are struggling artistically. Final Thoughts Recently, reports came out that biopic movies about Chris Farley, Richard Pryor, and other prolific comics are coming out. Plus Hulu just dropped The Dark Side of Comedy with 20 documentary shorts about everyone from Robin Williams to Dustin "Screech" Diamond - focusing on the pain and tragedy of comics. While these stories are sad, they are really not the norm. Most comics who make it have a good run. Most don't die of drug usage. In fact, most don't really make it all. Most work full time jobs and do stand up as a hobby or they are road comics with families and kids back home. Most make very little money in comedy and drive Uber or wait tables. Most live relatively mundane lives with a splash of artistic expression through stand up, five minutes at a time. So when I see movies and TV shows want to exploit the internal struggle with outward expression, it frustrates me. When I see the overnight success motif play out, it disheartens me. When I see the uproarious laughter of an unfunny joke so we can establish the character's growth, it irritates me. Maybe I sound like an old man yelling at a cloud, but I'd like to think my righteous indignation is more real than anything Hollywood has produced about the tragically glamorous life of stand up comedy. |
Paul Douglas Moomjean Blog's About What's on His MindBlogging allows for me to rant when there is no stage in the moment to talk about what's important and/or funny to me. Archives
October 2024
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