Finished The Bear Season 3 Friday night. This show has won best comedy series at every major awards ceremony, and yet I think we can all agree it’s not a comedy. It’s not even a dramedy. But what it is - it’s one of the finest most innovative television shows ever put in that little magic box we call a TV. The story of a fine dining cook Carmy who returns to Chicago to take over his family’s failing beef sandwich shop has evolved into one of the best comfort food shows on air.

Season 1 was okay. Almost confusing in its minimalist stylistic approach. An anxiety filled workplace show about a suicide that leads to a family reconciling. Season 2 was a huge step up, in production, scope, and storytelling. The way the characters are forced to change, grow, and trust was awe inspiring - like a great sports drama.

Season 3 is a masterpiece in style and character development. Think of the 10 episodes as a 10 course meal with appetizers up front and a delicious course of an episode following the previous one. There are moments of such tenderness and kindness, you’d be a monster not to feel utter joy when characters reach out to each other to be the support family should be.

I originally was upset when The Bear stole Ted Lasso’s last season thunder, but this Season 3 was as good as Lasso’s 2 & 3, and if you know me, that’s a real compliment. It’s on Hulu. Bon Appétit.

We are 6 months into 2024 and that means the studios and production companies will start releasing their box office giants and strongest Oscar contenders between now and Christmas. Usually, the first half of the year is lucky to have a few great films, but because of last year's strike and the still lingering effects of Covid holdovers, 2024 is on pace to be a great year in cinema. While I wasn't a fan of Dune 2, many are considering it a frontrunner for Best Picture and a lot of tech awards. For a March release, that shows the strength of the film's appeal. I've seen 34 releases specific for 2024 so far. I've watched 80 overall. I'll probably catch over 150 once the streamers pick up films like If and Kong X Godzilla, and other films I can wait to catch at home. But so far I've given 9 films a 4 1/2 or 5 star review on Letterboxd, meaning they are already in contention for top ten of the year come next January. 

I'm going to list the ten films I've enjoyed the most this year and put the link to my review under their title. These films range from quirky independent films, to horror, to epic action adventures. I won't rank them today, but I will list what my favorite film so far this year has been. As the rest of the year unveils itself, I have to say films like Heretic, Deadpool V. Wolverine, Joker 2, and Blitz all excite my movie gong sensibilities. So here are the 10 best films I've seen so far this year: 

BEST FILM (SO FAR)
Kinds of Kindness * * * * * Stars 
​Read my Full Review Here

Yorgos Lanthimos tells three separate stories with the same actors, including Emma Stone, Jesse Plemons, and the delightful Willem Defoe. The stories are fantastical in nature, based in some sense of the real world, only to shatter those expectations and take us to dark corners of our own soul. This is an ambitious film, full of ideas and images we don't see in movies. By not trying to please anyone, it ironically becomes the most pleasing experience I've had so far. 

BEST OF THE REST (NO PARTICULAR ORDER) 

Challengers * * * * 1/2 Stars 
Read my Full Review Here  

A sexy sports drama with three dynamic performances. Zendaya puts herself into Oscar contention as the once brilliant tennis player turned coach/wife/mother not completely sold on any of those roles.  

Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes * * * * * Stars 
Read my Full Review Here 

This isn't an action film about monkeys. This is Shakespeare with a sharp political satire bent. When the king yells "What a wonderful day!" I can't help but think how it was the day I saw this explosive masterpiece.  

Thelma * * * * * Stars 
Read my Full Review Here

June Squibb steals the show after a scammer steals $10,000 from her. Richard Roundtree co-stars in a final performance that is warm and lovely. A very funny and poignant film.  

Inside Out 2 * * * * 1/2 Stars 
​Read my Full Review Here

Pixar goes the full Toy Story 3 on us here with an emotional (get it?!) rollercoaster as young Riley hits puberty and has new emotions like Anxiety and Envy to make Joy's life miserable.  

Hit Man * * * * * Stars 
​Read my Full Review Here

Richard Linklater made the sexiest, funniest, wildest comedy caper of the year so far. Glenn Powell is becoming a movie star playing a fake hit man, and Adria Arjona is memorizing as his potential target and love interest.    

The Bikeriders * * * * 1/2 Stars 
​Read my Full Review Here

Austin Butler, Tom Hardy, and Jodi Comer command every scene as mid-west bikers and the woman Butler loves in Jeff Nichols picture-esque drama filled like a cross between Goodfellas and Easy Rider.  

In a Violent Nature * * * * 1/2 Stars 
​Read my Full Review Here

Easily the most divisive film on this list. A horror film that dares to look at the serial killing of a mythological monster from his point of view, this slasher is a somber yet gruesomely violent experience. If this tells you anything, I can't get it out of my head.    

Furisosa: A Mad Max Sage * * * * * Stars 
​Read my Full Review Here

Everything I wanted Fury Road to be, this is George Miller's finest edition to the Mad Max series. Chris Hemsworth, in a wild turn, gives a great performance as the madman and Anya Taylor-Joy captures all the brooding toughness Charlize Theron did the last time around as the title character. 

Sasquatch Sunset * * * * Stars  
​Read my Full Review Here

Without any dialogue or plot, four sasquatches wonder the forest, eating, pooping, and having sex. It's a wild existential comedy with a lot to say about how our inner natures can both help us survive and drive us insane. 

To read all of my Reviews on Letterboxd, click HERE

The scariest realization I made in childhood was that you couldn't spell the word friend without the word "end." I was in fourth grade. Then when I realized the first part was the word "fri" or aka "fry," this existential epiphany hit me hard. All friendships are bound to end. And potentially fry up in the heat of whatever caused the friendship fire. Clearly, I was a blast at pool parties with my Nietzsche-esque worldview on relationships. Yet, at 43, I can say there is a particular truth to this otherwise pessimistic prism of the world. Most of us have lost more friends than we have now. Some due to circumstance or geography; some due to selfishness or value changes. The same can be said of jobs, where one day we are positioning ourselves up the corporate ladder and the next we are resigning or being escorted out by security. In the great circle of life, as Mufasa taught us, the grass grows, something eats it, and then they die. I know it feels more spiritually comforting when James Earl Jones says it, but that was the basic idea. So when I tell you most comedy or content collaborations are the beginning of the end of a friendship, I'm saying this so you can proceed with caution. As someone who has worked with many people, I can tell you, that its best to work with strangers who become friends instead of friends who will eventually become strangers - and as hard as that is to hear - it comes from a place of observation and personal experience. 

Collaborating on Comedy Works Only If Egos Don't Exist 
Let's say you have a friend, and you want start a show together or create content sketches together, because two are better than one, keep in mind that while generating a lot of ideas can be a positive experience, in the end, you can only choose one idea at a time. And unless there is some form of understood hierarchy in place, personal agendas always come out, leading to eventual antagonism and break ups. 

Don't believe me? Ask Paul Simon & Art Garfunkel, Adam McKay and Will Ferrell, and Bill Murray and Harold Ramis.

Garfunkel chose a movie career over the duo's next album. Murray and Ramis couldn't see eye to eye during or after Groundhog's Day. And McKay choose John C. Reilly over Ferrell to play Dr. Jerry Buss in Winning Time, and their friendship since 1995 ended that day. 

There is a risk in trying to co-lead a project. Arguments will happen, especially when money or fame are thrown into the mix. There are collaborative situations that would work in other industries. Maybe building a car together or taking turns filming audition tapes is manageable. But when both parties have a strong point of view, a split in vision will occur. Ironically, even if someone is more passive and agreeable, they will get called out for not coming up with enough ideas, but then get damned if they push back on their own pitches. It's a lose-lose scenario, no matter the strength of the friendship. 

Idealists v. Opportunists 
With most duos the fighting occurs between the Idealists and Opportunists.  

Opportunists are the ones who like throwing money around. They're the party animals. They see the upsides first but also the upsides for themselves. They like running comedy shows to get to work with comics they want to build relationships with. They cast actors who they want to build intimate relationships with. They see people as serving the project and them. They want to cast their friends and build their individual brand. While it's not wrong to want to help friends, make or spend money, build a career, and maybe even find the love of your life on set, making that the priority of the project is going to rub other people the wrong way.

Idealists are different, and are purists in nature. They put the project over their own needs and brand. They want everyone to think about all the different possibilities, to focus on the budget, and create the best show, even if sacrifices have to be made. If a comic isn't that funny, you don't book them. If the script needs a rewrite, you work hard and maybe even postpone a week. Idealists are perfectionists and see where the problems down the road might be. They even sacrifice their own gains if the show or project benefits. It's not being a Debbie Downer or pessimist. It's an actual realist, who just wants the audience to enjoy themselves. 

Freud called these the Id and Super Ego. The Id is the more self-centered aspect of the self, whereas the Super Ego is the rule follower and rule maker. Both are needed, but unless both have a clear understanding of their specific agendas, disaster will ensue.

Best Practices When Creating a Comedy Show 
If you do co-produce a comedy show, there are a few best practices to make sure no one takes advantage of the other and that the show lasts as long as possible. First off, establish what you want the show to be. Is this a show for friends to be booked on? Do you want to have a headliner? Do you want to pay anyone, including yourselves? How many comics and how long do you want each person to do? While you might think these things "will work themselves out" - they don't unless you work them out. Some people work well in chaos, others don't. But everyone can follow a basic agenda. 

One rule should always be in booking comics that both of you have veto power. So if one of you doesn't like a comic and can explain that reason clearly, the other should respect your wishes. If they are always knocking down your comedy choices, then this might be a red flag. Keep in mind that each of you have a different background. One of you might owe a show to someone and they have to accept that. If you book multiple shows, booking out a few months in advance can help spread out the favors and favorites early. If you don't want to rotate hosting responsibilities, then I suggest you find one consistent host you both like. 

Other protocols might be one person books and deals with comics and the other makes flyers and organizes with the venues. You don't want to split up the same tasks, as that creates a lot of unneeded "I'll get back to you" conversations. In business we call that the Waterfall Method. Where a series of tasks have to get done first, and then people point fingers claiming responsibilities weren't done. You want people to be able to work as a team, but also alone. 

When Creating Online Content Be a Team
This can get really tricky. I know a lot of comics who got together, made a series of sketches, and ended the relationships faster than their last collab. Here's why: Too many cooks in the kitchen. When creating online content, you really need a singular voice. In television it's the show runner. In cinema it's the director. In reality TV, it's the executive producer. In most projects I've collaborated in, I was the writer. Sure, people can add ideas, but they understand if I don't like them, it's best to keep the script or sketch as is, and then you can shoot a few alt takes if needed. 

Try to have one person be the focal person in posting and running the social media accounts. If you want to have one person run TikTok and the other run Instagram, that's fine, but allow them the freedom to run it as they want. Being a micromanager to an "equal," won't work. The group can have access to all the socials, but it's best to have one person run them. 

When it comes to monetizing the content, it is best to create a separate account. This could include money you earn from IG or TikTok but also from potential investors, sponsors, and crowdfunding. If all the money goes into a mutual account, it will be far easier to track spending and allows access to both parties. Trust me, you don't want one person taking all the money, especially if taxes are factored in down the road. 

Maintaining the Friendship Over Producing the Shows 
While many people can work in a group, I've found most stories end badly. When I took the job at Flappers in 2019, I knew that it was really just the beginning of the end. Because every job ends with people quitting or getting fired. Rarely are there opportune times to split ways. My story ended with a bad faith financial arrangement from management, leading to a now burnt bridge. But, I knew that would be a possibility when I started. I saw how it ended for others. But I assumed I'd learn a lot, and I did. If anything, I took the job knowing we'd burn the bridge, which gave me a freedom to not have to deal with the nonsense I wasn't a fan of to begin with.   

I've ran shows with people, only to have them get burned out and no longer want to run them. Most of them don't do comedy anymore at all. I've also had great relationships where roles were defined and we kept it professional. I discourage "friends" from running shows together because "friends" will just assume they can behave less professionally. It's like a roommate situation. You really don't know a person until you share space with them. And I've had roommates not pay rent, change the rent price, and bring in other people without my consent. The headaches aren't worth it anymore. If you move in with your best friend, and they're a bad roommate, you've lost a roommate and a friend. Same goes with co-producing comedy content and shows.  

What you want to do is be supportive more than you are reliant. When I worked at Nickelodeon I met a writer who submitted their spec script as a duo but the network only liked him. So he dumped the buddy and wrote on the next three hit shows, whereas the partner moved back to the East Coast. Loyalty in this industry is rare. And money and fame and status only complicates it. 

Final Thoughts
If you are thinking of teaming up with someone, I encourage you to overthink everything in the beginning from length of the shows or content to the payment percentages to how you'll spend money up front. This will do two things:

1. You'll see how organizing makes them act and react. 
2. It will catch creative red flags early on.  

Complimenting each other should be the main goal. Maybe there is a writer and director. Maybe there is a booker and a venue producer. One person might have the money and the other has the people skills. 

And it's okay if one or both of you see value in building your brands, but be honest up front. If the comic wants to use the show to book their friends as opposed to swapping shows with stranger, then adjust the bookings accordingly or just back out immediately. 

Never make last minute changes without running it by them, even if it means it'll take an extra minute. Don't be offended if they call it "my show" to others just to simplify communication. It is their show too. And always allow an open door to ask questions. If there is a huge benefit in co-creating or co-producing, it's the potential to learn better business skills and patience. 

Even MORE Final Thoughts
In the end, keep in mind that comedy is not a team sport. That's improv. And if you don't play well with others, then team sports aren't for you. 

On the content side, keep in mind there are reasons for unions in Hollywood. Writers write parts so actors can act. Actors act because directors direct. And directors direct because producers produce. If it was all committee based, then it would become an alliance like reality show with certain members getting voted off. 

​If you set your objectives and expectations up front, you'll be way less bitter and upset in the end. I mean, you'll always be bitter and upset, you're a comic, but it will at least be less.  

​
For a little over 4 full years I worked at a comedy club. 18 months was during a pandemic, but everything I'm sharing with you today is still relevant to how most "B" Clubs and "C" Clubs work. "A" Clubs would be where only the top comics perform, and the clubs have a world-wide brand. The Improv. The Comedy Store. The Laugh Factory. In middle America, Denver Comedy Works (CO), Wiseguys (UT, NV), The Comedy Cellar (NY, NV) and Zanies in Illinois have all built reputations as the premier destinations for top talent to perform. If you can make it there, as a paid regular or headliner, you can make it anywhere. "B" Clubs are much more accessible. Places that rely on showcases with newer comics, but they still get the big names occasionally because they have 150-250 seats. "C" Clubs are either very new or rely only on young and rising talent, with usually only 50-100 seats available for audiences. It's important to understand the ABC's of comedy clubs because if you are expecting a B or C Club to act like an A Club, you're going to be greatly disappointed, as their goals are different.

What I want to do is breakdown the way B and C Clubs view upcoming comics and the business as a whole. They might be frustrating and make you feel like you aren't progressing or even needed, but that's just their MO (mode of operating). They are usually more worried about making rent and payroll than paying comics. They usually are thinking about food menus instead of booking the week's lineups. They are thinking less like a cornerstone of comedy and more like the small business they are. In my experience (over 40 jobs overlapping in the last 30 years of employment from 13-42) I can tell you that most small business (revenue ranging from $1 million to $5 million with 50-100 employees) aren't very efficient. The owners are pretty greedy and incompetent, rarely listen to advice, and act like they know everything about business.
So, when you ask "Why is this club doing this to me?" keep in mind they don't know either. They are acting from a place of desperation. 

When I worked at Viacom, Costco, and Amgen, billion dollar companies, they had their ducks lined up in a row. They had systems, protocols, and hierarchies that kept workflows efficient. Usually there were unions or contracts or other forms of accountability to maintain operational excellence.
Uncle Haha's Comedy Club in a street mall is not one of those places. So, let's look at the misconceptions and interpretations to why the local club you hate but beg to book you behaves the way it does.            

No One "Hates" or "Forgot" About You
First off, I'll play nice. Uncle Haha's Comedy Club doesn't hate or forget you. As someone who once had access to the databases, there are over 20,000 comics in the databases. Even smaller C Clubs use Excel spreadsheets with thousands of names. But keep in mind, there are only so many shows and so many spots and the squeaky wheels get the grease. Are you doing what they asked? Sending in avails? Showing up to auditions? Hanging out time to time?

I know you feel like they are going out of their way to ignore you. They aren't. Because I know for a fact lineups are partially copied and pasted into other lineups. You know why? Because it's easier. And because those lineups had good numbers.  

They don't hate you or forgot about you. You just didn't do what their simple little system requires. Unfortunately, their system probably doesn't work out well with your schedule or ego. I've been there. "Why didn't they think of me for that?" Because the people they did think about were in their face at the time of the decision. I used to pick students to run open mics and host shows at Flappers all the time. Because the booker would ask, who is a good student? The ones I was teaching, who fit the mold, got the gig. I'm sure there were other comics I knew, but the club wanted a student. Decisions are rarely made with you in mind to hurt you. 

If you don't like the process of Uncle Haha's, then that's the key to come back when you reached the level they want you at to get the gigs you think you deserve.             

The Real Reason Pay is Little to Nothing  
Everyone wants to know why they don't get paid for their show. I have a general rule. If I book you over 10 minutes on a show, I pay you. If I'm asking you to host, I pay you. If it's a 5-10 minute set, you're welcome. I don't care if the show sells tickets or not. Your 5-10 minutes could have easily been spread out amongst the other comics, especially if no come came to watch you do comedy. B and C Clubs have waitstaff, cooks, managers, sound techs, and other positions to pay first, by law. Food sales cannot always cover that. "A" Clubs have the above costs too, but when Trevor Wallace and Tom Segura are selling out every weekend, at $25-$100 tickets, they can afford to pay the middle and opener. In fact, most comics only make maybe $15-$100 at an A Club showcase night. Unless they're headlining The Comedy Store, they aren't taking the night's revenue.  

If you feel like you're worth $25-$200+ a show, then run a show, sell to your fan base, collect the money, and dish out the money to who you find worthy of pay. If you don't like their business model, then don't ask to be a part of it. This is like applying for a volunteer job and then complaining you didn't get paid.      

"Papering the Room" is the Best Idea They Have 
The other reason you can't feel disrespected by the club's lack of generosity is because they might not have made any money to actually pay the comics. In stand up, most shows are what we call "papering the room" with "free" tickets. There are telemarketers and newsletters offering free tickets to patrons because deep down they know the combined costs of their lineups plus two item minimums aren't worth the deal. People vote with their wallets, and unless the comics on stage are worth $25 plus dinner, people need something comped. And once they don't pay, they'll never pay again - unless it's Fluffy or Kevin Hart. 

Sadly, B and C Club's best idea is to just comp the seats. They don't want to run community outreach marketing programs, membership programs, generate lineups that have a real through-line, pay for top talent, or pay for ads. They want the newbies to bring and the staff to call previous guests (YOUR FRIENDS!) to come back. When I ran Flappers University, my most successful program was the FU+ Pass. For $50 a year you got a locked in rate for classes and free workshops. This annual subscription model is how AMC and Netflix are building regular customers, and super markets and clothing store's loyalty card programs produce discounts that inspire return business. They aren't giving away "free" stuff hoping you'll buy when you walk in. The AMC Stubbs program paid for the upgraded seats you enjoy now. 

If you want to know how effective the FU+ Pass was, when I walked away, ownership stopped it immediately and raised prices, because that's all they know how to do 

Clubs need to update their marketing, but that costs money, and when they give away comedy, they won't give money to you.         

They Hope You'll Become Famous And Help Them Down the Road
Want to hear something really weird? They actually hope you become famous. B and C Clubs hope you'll go viral, become Trevor Wallace, and come back and give them a couple sold out weekends. So they are rooting for you, but for purely capitalistic reasons. They don't really care about your late night set or helping you produce your special at an affordable rate. They want you to think about how they booked you when you just started out, so when you break out you'll come back and they can claim they made you famous. But somewhere in between they kind of forgot to maintain the relationship properly. 

If you only knew how many of the top comics in the country right now started at the Los Angeles based B and C Clubs, asked for spots, were treated like everyone else, and eventually told those clubs to eat dirt. No one wants to feel used and disrespected, but understand, these bookers don't really know talent the way A Clubs do. Mitzi Shore and Bud Friedman saw potential and helped those comics get TV spots and then those comics helped them in return. 
These B and C Clubs aren't into fostering comics and building them. Just like they wanted you to bring 5 friends when starting out, they want to you bring your 500 fans down the road. They want all the benefit and none of the journey, like a college that doesn't get you a job upon graduation but wants you to donate money once you're a doctor.   

Men Ask For More Than Women Do 
Here's the basic difference between male and female comics when it comes to bookings. Men ask for more spots than woman do. So male comics deal with "active rejection" and women deal with "passive rejection." Active rejection is when you ask for a spot and hear nothing or a "no." Passive rejection is when you do nothing but see others succeed, so you take it personal. At the headliner level, there are just more men than women. We know that. At the showcase levels below, the playing field can be a bit more even. But when I attended auditions at Flappers, I can tell you there are just more men asking for spots. I could go into the nature v. nurture theories about how men see bookings as more competitive game with a clear finish line and women see it as the responsibility of the booker to ask her when she's free, as a type of comedy courtship, but I digress.

Just keep in mind that men live in a constant state of active rejection. Hearing a "no" is regular life for them. Women have not been trained by society (through an awful double standard) to ask for what they want. Go watch Season 3 of Hacks to see that validated.     

If you aren't asking B and C Clubs for spots, you're just not going to get them. But, ladies, if you ask, I know for a fact smaller clubs want to support women. Especially in the beginning of their careers. There are clearly more problematic issues at the headlining levels, and the A Clubs in Los Angeles have been called out for lack of diversity. But I still stand by my above statement, that if you are a woman (biological or trans) you will get more spots if you put yourself in front of bookers at auditions and just tell them you want to host.  

Are there other alternative venue shows with male dominant lineups? Yes. Is there sexism and bro-culture? Of course. But I promise you. If you have a little bit of talent, show up to the auditions on time, and just ask, you'll get more spots. But you have to ask. That's the catch.             

It's a Business - Especially When Rent is Due  
Before you email me with all your hot takes on how the club did X, Y, or Z to you and your buddies, and I know they did, just remember that they're running a business, not a charity or after-school program. They owe you nothing but the deals you make with them. You offer to work for free, they aren't going to offer to pay you until you ask. Most A Clubs own the land they're using, whereas the B and C Clubs in shopping malls are paying ever increasing rent. They have to pay a small army of employees and cover all the other expenses like leaky pipes and broken toilets. A Clubs book 50-60 comics a year, and B and C Clubs books hundreds in showcases, bringers, and headliner sets with numerous guest drop-ins. They are overwhelmed and underqualified to run the well-oiled machine you hope they'll be. 

Final Thoughts 
Most comics quit because they feel like they're being used or forgotten by smaller clubs. After "bringing" for a year or so, they thought they built a relationship, only to realize they hadn't. It's depressing. I've been there. But before you throw the baby out of comedy bathwater, ask yourself if what you were expecting is what was promised. Sure, "the right thing" to do would be to remember you and pay you and ask what your needs are, but you're asking a group of people who can barely survive week to week to care about you. Anyone who's ever been in a relationship with a broke person knows, they aren't thinking about your birthday or Christmas when they can't afford their own rent. 

​I'm not saying you can't feel used and cheated, but what I am saying is consider the source. It's not fair to yell at a turnip for not being an orange. And when there's little to no juice in them, don't waste your time trying to squeeze out of them what you thought they owed you which isn't there at all.       

When I was starting out in comedy, the general agreement upon getting booked was that I needed to support the show by bringing people. Not every show required it. It was just highly suggested. I stayed away from hard bringers a decade ago, and I still do. Back then, a lot of my shows were "free" with a two item minimum to help the venue recoup costs. I don't have to worry about bringer shows or trying to convince people to come to free shows anymore, as 90% of my gigs are paid now, but starting out I really wanted to show I could help the show beyond my comedy skills. So I would bring friends to showcases, hosting shows, and even bar and restaurant gigs. Some shows were much better than others, but people were generally supportive. After a year of doing shows, I decided to start running my own and get a cut of the action. I figured, I was bringing people but not seeing a dime (outside of a few hosting gigs) and it was time to make the leap into creating my own opportunities.

I Couldn't Sell a Ticket A Year Into Comedy   
When I made the jump into better shows and self-produced shows, I found that because I was doing so many free shows, I ended up hurting my future self because people just assumed my shows would always be free or super cheap. Back in the day Flappers had a 5 For $25 Ticket deal where I would buy the tickets up front and my friends would pay me at the door. It was a pretty predatory practice looking back, as there was no guarantee my guests would show or pay me before leaving the venue. Keep in mind, Venmo wasn't a thing then. Today would have been easier. But I'd buy sometimes up to 50 tickets ($250 worth) and then hope I'd get the money back. What did Flapper's care if they showed? They got their money. Usually 45-50 people came and I would maybe lose $20 at most.  

But I would buy tickets and then sell them to my friends and decided it was time to make some money off my promoting. Back then (2015-16) I would have to charge for student showcases I was in, but the Friday or Saturday YooHoo room shows were usually comp links. This became confusing for my friends as to why some shows cost more than others. I just told them the student showcases were a separate thing. Eventually, they stopped going to student showcases, as my weekend shows were free. By then I had moved into multiple venues. I was regularly playing the Ventura Harbor, Springbok, Comedy Palace, Ice House, and doing road work. People could see me all over the state and south west. But they knew if I did a free show at Flappers on Friday or Saturday, they could just wait. Great for the club. Bad for me trying to expand my fan base geographically.  

The irony of this was that my other shows had better lineups. My YooHoo room shows were mostly "amateur nights" (as a buddy called them) but they were free. Soon, people were tired of only enjoying me and the one or two veteran comics and hating the other less polished acts.

One time I rented the Main Room at Flappers and sold $10 tickets. I got roughly 25 tickets sold and about 100 people in comped. They said they weren't going to pay for a show they saw for free within the last year. Keep in mind, my other booked comics had the same issue. Their friends weren't paying either, even if it was a Sunday night in the main room. The show was a success from an attendance standpoint, and everyone had a good set. I tried again to sell tickets three months later for my show at Flappers; I even didn't perform in comped shows on the weekends to try to create a desire to see me. I got about 75 people out next time, with even less ticket "sales" because the comics I booked still said their friends wouldn't pay but would come if comped. That was my last show there as a producer. It never occurred to me that by getting people to come for free those first 2-3 years would bite me in the butt when I tried to sell my own tickets. 

By 2018 I had ruined all my good will because I was giving away free comedy, and on top of that, giving away comedy that was turning off friends from wanting to see me in better shows down the road. People weren't going to pay for a show, thinking that they'd get the same poor quality show. It was a Catch-22 and one that hurt me for a good year or so in trying to build a career. 

Promote the Shows With Ticket Sales By Encouraging Them to Buy 
This is why it's always the best practice to try to PROMOTE shows with actual ticket sales, even if the venue can't pay you. Not because it helps them, but because it helps you down the road. When you have free bar shows or free restaurant shows out of town, I would encourage you to tell local friends, but don't blast it unless you're getting paid or doing a lot of time. 

Over the years you'll meet strangers and if you're giving them free tickets to see you (or worse, paying for their seats) you are training them to believe you don't have a monetary value. Eventually, you want fans, and if every show you offer is free, they will only see you as an amateur with no professional power. 

Comedy Clubs With Comps Are Using You To Sell Food  
The reason comedy clubs give newbies comp links is because they need butts in seats to sell food. Clubs that comp are just glorified restaurants. They have made it obvious to their audiences they are about the food and not the art. The occasional comped show is fine. 2 for 1 deals are fine. Raffle winning is fine. But when the basic model of a club is to offer "free" entertainment with overpriced food, you are setting up your friends to feel cheated over time. And this logic of comping doesn't apply in other "theater" based modes of commerce.   

Imagine if a few days before a big movie came out the studio just offered free tickets to see it, so the movie theater could sell more concessions? It's the same logic. The movie fails but the popcorn boxes and soda cups are poppin'! At the end of the day, studios put out a product, and if it doesn't sell, they rethink what they're doing.

Even a $5 ticket price guarantees a better audience than people who sacrificed nothing. Prices should be fair to the quality of the show, so obviously a $20-$30 ticket for a bunch of amateurs is not a good investment of your friend's time. But if the tickets are free, they'll now associate you with a show not worth paying for. Even if you are on it and kill it, that's only 5-10 minutes your guests will enjoy.

There are always exceptions. The bar and restaurant shows that are trying to bring in a crowd, with open seating and mixed crowds can be grueling, but play as challenges to win over the crowd in the journey. A show where the food was the admission to begin with is way more ethical than a show pretending they're comping your friends, when they comp people regardless, just to sell food.  
As you progress further in your career, I would advise you only send your friends the ticket link with the lowest price that's not zero. They'll be more committed to come and see you as a valuable comic who demands value. You know, like a professional comic. 

Moving Forward in a Showcase Town 
This of course begs the question, what happens when you do a 5 minute show with a code or link that encourages free tickets. I would discourage you from giving the free link. If that means less people come, then you maintain your value as a ticket seller down the road. But once you give away the cow, the milk goes with it. This might be my hottest take yet, but you aren't going to know your value until you have a ticket price attached to you.  

Free Shows Killed the Movies with Movie Pass
I recently watched the new HBO Max documentary about Movie Pass (my review of Movie Pass, Movie Crash is in the Letterbxd section at the bottom). That app, for $10 a month, let people see as many movies as they wanted a month. Thus, devaluing films and ticket prices. Eventually, they went belly up. But people were so used to seeing "free" movies that when they had to buy tickets again they stopped going. One of the contributing factors to poor box office now is that over 10 million people no longer see the value of movies because they were so used to paying nothing to see them. Sure, Movie Pass gave away a lot of "great deals," but the long game was beyond destructive.

Final Thoughts 
Whether you are producing shows or trying to fill your calendar with gigs, always maintain your value. It's all you have when you take the leap into being a professional comic. I'm reminded of a great gag in the sketch show Kid's in the Hall. One of the characters said "I'm going to make a lot of money. I don't know what 100 times zero is, but I'm sure it's a lot." 

It's clearly a fine line of trying to get stage time and not selling your soul or bankrupting your friends. But I promise you, it would be better to maintain a value as you try to move up the ranks. I've played 200 seat rooms where it was "papered" and 200 seat rooms where everyone spent $10-$25 a seat. Guess which one had a better vibe? Yeah, the people who paid. 

​We all want stage time. But we shouldn't give our show away for free. It's not good for comedy, the show, or the future you wanting to make money off this down the road.