The Painhole
(note: Archived Painhole essays can be found at the bottom of this
page)
Someday - and that day will come - you’ll look back, with great nostalgia and longing, to the gravy-bowl days of goodness and plenty. Yes supple reader, indeed I can see it so clearly; on a warm summer night, after the last of the wandering day has slipped from the sky - with the children gathered around you and their eyes catching the glow of the fires that still ravage the bombed-out city; as you wonder when (oh god when?!) will the radiation drop and allow you to leave these new caves which have become your home; when will the nightmare sores stop appearing on the weakening flesh; when will you no longer have to fear the hunting packs of deformed and canaiblistic Werbers; and why - oh for the love of all things why - did Ben stop writing the Painhole!!
Welcome to the future, baby.
Ever since Ben became host, the weakly column of the Painhole has fallen dormant. And with good reason; Ben’s whole purpose in writing the column was to provide commentary and education on improvisational techniques in general and Friday Nite Improvs in specific. Now that Ben has straped on the... um... mantle of command... he can more effectively do this from the stage (and, as a personal note, I would like to publicly congratulate him on an excellent job thus far). However, like a highschool runaway in a Detroit bus station you just knew it wouldn’t be long before someone picked it up and put it back to work. Well, I’ve got the purple felt wide brimed hat and 24 karet imation gold dead front tooth... so you best call me the Daddy of the Mac, daddy.
As my first tentative and probing finger into the Hole, I like to address something that some of you have done and perhaps some of you are thinking about doing; namely Showcase. Now, as you may have guessed, this topic wasn’t picked at random - it was inspired by the events at last Friday’s show (01/15/99 for those of you scoring at home). Now, my purpose here is not to rehash what happened last week, or to criticize any one person in particular. Basically, after last weeks show, I felt it necessary to bring you some helpful hints - tips as it were - to how to make your Showcase experience more pleasant for all involved.
During my time watching FNI I’ve seen just about every kind of showcase imaginable. And while I’ve witnessed some amazingly wonderful ones (not to mention an equal number of amazingly bad ones) and even performed in a few, the majority of Showcases I’ve seen have fallen into that endless black hole known simply as mediocre. I’m talking about lame, poorly conceived, ill-prepared, badly executed, “look Ma – I’m up’n on a stage!!” Showcases. As Steven Werber is fond of saying “You know, you never get this time back”. The kind of Showcases where it seems the audience as a whole has some Borg-like collective mind asking it’s self one silent question “I don’t understand what that person doing on the stage or why the hell are they making me watch it??” That’s the kind of Showcases I’m talking about.
Ok, before you launch a preemptive strike on the basis of censorship and artistic content, let me tell you a little fable. During the time Chick Libley was host he and I had only one occasion to get into a screaming, knock-down, drag-out, call your mother the very eye of syphilis argument: and it was over Showcase. See, at that time there was one particular Freak who semi-regularly attended the show who had all manner of jailhouse tats and various body piercing. As luck would have it, this aforementioned Freak was planing on getting his genitalia pierced (A Prince Albert; again, for those of you playing at home). He approached Chick and I and offered, as a Showcase, to have this not so surgical operation done on the stage. Now, despite my comments in the above paragraph, I was all for it; It was so outrageous (outrageous!), so outside the envelope that I considered it perfect for the Showcase venue (I mean, where else but FNI are you gonna get entertainment like that?). Well, Chick started to bitch and mown about “Not Appropriate” this and “Too Disturbing” that… basically a bunch of sissy stuff. But Chick was the host so he got to make the call and it never happened (as a brief epilogue, Chick and I finally reached a compromise and the Freak wound up driving a nail through his tong and into a block of wood which, all things considered, is much closer to “Family Entertainment” as defined at FNI)
The point of that little story simple: in my opinion, Showcase is a venue for almost anything. Anything, that is, that will entertain and amuse the blood thirsty and rabid pack of hungry wolves which is our audience. And that’s the primary reason the format of Showcase is so liberal. Improvs desperately hopes to encourage people who would not ordinarily consider themselves entertainers to do just that – perform. And Showcase exists for the sole purpose of giving that performance opportunity to people who might not necessarily want to show off their creative efforts playing improv games. But the important difference here is that what you do - or at least try to do - will somehow entertain the audience (and not even all of them at that; just someone other than yourself). So, if your considering doing a Showcase at FNI, you may want to start by asking your self....
Point 1: Is your Showcase interesting?
It’s a simple litmus test: Just ask yourself, “If I was in the audience watching this, would I think it was interesting and entertaining?” If the answer is “yes” your in the green. If the answer is “no” (and remember, be honest), try to rethink your idea - after all, it might just be an issue of presentation, and not content. If you really feel the overwhelming need to get up in front of the audience to tell them about how daddy’s thumb knuckle scared you as a child, that’s fine... that’s why Showcase is there. However, if the way in which you decide to convey this message is by standing silently center stage for ten minutes so the audience understands the silent scream of your heart... well, don’t be surprised if they walk out; after all, you’d probably walk out yourself if someone tried to pull that crap on you.
Point 2: Prepare and practice.
Ok, you’ve got something interesting you want to share with us. Great. So you should just book a Showcase date, right? Wrong. Having an idea or some talent is rarely enough. You have to craft what you do into something meaningful. After all, if what you want to do is so dammed important that you feel you have to get up in front of 100 people and do it, then isn’t it worth doing right? If you want the audience to gaze up at you longingly for the creative genius you so obviously are - then you’ve got to do a little more than prepare on the 61c bus ride to the show. This means planing, practice, and rehearsal. I once did a 6 minuet Showcase that took me three months of nearly continuous rehearsal to prepare... ok, ok, that says more about my toilet training than Showcase but don’t miss the point; At minimum it takes one hour of rehearsal for every one minute of stage time. Add to that the crazy notion of planing for your Showcase needs.... silly things like do you have all the equipment you need?.. what about props? ... if you need help, who will be there and will they know what to do? Things like stereo systems with 120 watt pre-amp converters or pudding filled pinyatas or Worlds Strongest Man contestants just don’t appear ‘cuz you need them. And for god’s sake don’t expect to just show up to perform a scene from a Ciclle B. DeMill movie and think that 50 people will just volunteer and who will all know exactly, precisely, what’s going on in that bulbous and misshapen little brain of yours, Einstein.
Point 3: Do it. Love it. Get the hell out.
Let’s face it: Kids today have all the attention span of an American President at a Catholitic Girl’s School Convention - so what makes you think they will listen to your nine hour magnum opus puppet show concerning Love and Sub-Atomic Particle Theory?? Regardless of how great, entertaining, or important you happen to think it is, they won’t. They will get up an leave. Now, on the other hand, if you want them to cherish and respect you try this: Hit the stage running, take just the time you need to do your shtick, and get off. I’ve see all too many otherwise excellent Showcases fall on their own sword because they went too long. And even if you could care less how long your on stage (because, after all, your a genius) remember this: That Showcase time only exists because FNI exists. The only reason you wanted to do Showcase in the first place is because the house is packed, you love the attention, and you want to get laid. Well guess what? An overly-long Showcase kills FNI. People get up, walk out, and... get this... don’t come back. Sure, you got your little piece, but what about the next person. Ok, screw the next person... what about the next time you want to do a Showcase? The few in the audience who do remember you are going to skip the polite waiting part and get up right away. And trust me, it’s pretty damm difficult to get laid in an empty theater - I don’t care how brilliant or meaningful your gig was.
Finally, here are a few non-specific guidelines for Showcase that apply to everyone in general. If your a Rock Band: The Pit is only 850 sq. feet, not Wimbly Stadium, and more volume dose not equal more talent. Acoustic guitar boys: for once in your miserable lives try tuning up before coming on stage. Poetry girls: either memorize it or have a typed copy, because I can’t make out that word either. Hat Company: We’ve seen it before. Tom: don’t wear that suit. And finally to the “regulars” (myself included): I know you’ve had to endure the Chinese Water Torture of a thousand painful Showcases, but for the love of the show try not to be such pompous asses and stick around for them once and awhile - who knows, you might just be surprised with what you see.
Wishing for Chonz but always getting the Thimple.
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