When I was a kid, stand-up comedy was all over the television. During the 80s “Stand-Up Boom”, every major network had a stand-up comedy TV series. Every cable network, from HBO to Showtime, had regular comedy specials, as well. TV became a breeding ground for stand-up comics everywhere, and some of today’s stars cut their teeth being discovered on shows like MTV’s Half-Hour Comedy Hour and A&E’s Evening at The Improv.
The good news in all of this is that the world was exposed to stand-up comedy (and comedians) and what it’s like to watch a club performer right there on the TV. The bad news is that, two decades later, we still equate “TV” with “Comedic Ability”. Since every network had stand-up comedy shows, tons of comedians from all over the world were getting TV appearances. Sometimes on more than one show, more than one network. If they were still touring the comedy clubs regularly (and most were), there was a better-than-average chance of seeing a comic from your TV right there in your local comedy club. It was like being up close with a TV star!
Then, as “The Boom” died down and less stand-up comedy was featured on TV, a strange thing happened: People continued to expect the average comic at the average comedy club to be some guy that has been all over the television. To this day, the shows that will sell the most tickets are the ones that feature comics who have the most (or most known) TV credits. People want to see comics that have been on TV. And that includes comedians they have never seen nor heard of before…! They just want to know that the comic onstage has been a comic on TV, too.
Why? Because, somewhere over the years, American audiences got it in their head that “TV = Funny”. That a TV appearance is their guarantee to see a person who is “really” a “comedian”. That guy they’ve never heard of? He might be funny. But if TV networks think he is, he must be.
Which would be fine if that line of thinking makes any sense. There are still hundreds of comedy clubs all across America. Yet there are not hundreds of TV shows featuring stand-up comedians. The late-night talk shows hardly have comedians on them like they used to, and they don’t even cater to the amount of people you, dear reader, probably think they do. The number one late-night talk show is still The Tonight Show with Jay Leno. Guess how many people tune in to watch it every night? About 3 million people. Yes, less than 1% of the US population watches any of the talk shows. Yet people still believe that a comic telling clean-for-TV jokes for 5 to 7 minutes on one of those shows “proves” something. What does it really prove? A number of things:
1. That comic just might be genuinely great and hilarious.
2. That comic lives in New York City or LA, where most TV shows are filmed and most of the featured comedians reside.
3. That comic has 5 to 7 clean minutes of stand-up comedy material that work well on TV.
But only one of those things really guarantees you a great night of comedy at your local comedy club. (Hint: It’s #1).
I’ve done a couple of TV appearances. Not Leno or Letterman, of course. In fact, nothing huge and mostly “local” things or syndicated programming. But the irony is that doing the TV appearances was never what made me what audiences would consider to be a solid act. What made me a better comic was working the road, building up my act in comedy clubs all over the country. Yet, in the eyes of the stand-up comedy biz these days, that’s considered second to simply getting on TV. By both the people booking the club and the people coming to the show. The ability to make an audience laugh is secondary to simply filling the seats in the club with as little effort as possible…and the way to do that is to have some sort of credit (TV or film) to push upon the public. It’s typical for me to hear at least once per week “You were sooo funny…how come I haven’t seen you on TV?” What’s mostly funny about this is that the person saying it can’t tell me the names of most of the comics they have seen on TV. Or the last time they watched some comedian on a late-night show.
How bad is it? These days, the first thing a club wants to hear that you have before they will consider bringing you out is what sort of TV credits you have. Again, this is in a day when TV credits are much harder to come by than they were 25 years ago. Yet people still want to see people from the TV on their comedy stages. There was a time when a comic built a reputation on the road and, from that, got on TV. Nowadays, it seems you’re no good on the road until you’ve been on TV first. The tail wags the dog, indeed.
And the irony is that people are demanding to see comedians from TV despite the fact that they don’t watch comedians on TV. Without bothering to check, can you name six comedians off the top of your head that you saw last year on Comedy Central Presents? How about the name of a comedian you saw on The Late Show With David Letterman? Can you name a single comedian from Conan? Yet, isnt’t there a good chance that you’d go see a comic in a club after being told he’s been on one of those shows than you will when you’re simply told “He’s a very funny comic who tours all over the country”?
The question, dear reader, is “WHY”?
Why do you think that the guy on TV has a chance of being funnier than the guy who is not? Does being funny for 22 minutes (that’s a half-hour special, minus commercials) in front of a theatre of people on Comedy Central guarantee hilarity in a comedy club for an hour on a Friday night in front of 100 drunks? Can that comic who was hilarious for 7 minutes on Leno keep you enthralled for 45 minutes in a bar on the weekend? Maybe. Maybe not. But why do we still believe that there’s a guarantee of that happening based on that person having appeared on The Boob Tube at some point, and possibly for less than thirty minutes?
This situation is odd mostly because it’s an American thing. In Canada, where exposure is even harder to come by, it’s a given that almost every comedian in a comedy club has not been on TV. The audience figures that, if the comedian is working in a comedy club, he’s probably funny since he already has the job. Comedy clubs, in turn, are more interested in making the club the brand, not riding the coattails of the comic. Same goes for The UK, where touting of TV appearances comes off more as bragging than it does as being important. Being on TV in The UK will not even guarantee you a regular comedy gig so much as being a great live act will.
Perhaps it’s our American obsession with celebrity and TV in the first place? After all, we’ve made huge celebrities out of people with absolutely no talent other than their ability to get on TV. Comedy clubs have followed suit. Only in America would a reality star suddenly become a comedian and be selling out comedy clubs based only on name recognition. But it happens. It’s only a matter of time before the cast of Jersey Shore starts cashing in. Less than two years into doing actual stand-up comedy, Steve-O from Jackass can sell out a theatre. Meanwhile, a comedian who has dedicated his life to doing stand-up for twice (or three times) as long struggles just to get a regular gig as an opening act at scale wages. Some former TV stars from the 70s can still pack a comedy club based on nothing more than name recognition….despite having been on a program that has been off the air for 30 years and is older than many people sitting in the audience in the comedy club.
I am not saying that the people you see on TV are not great comedians, nor that they are not worthy of your comedy club dollar. Quite the contrary, I’m saying that we all probably are all worth that dollar. After all, we got the job in the first place, right? It just seems odd that American audiences are so insistent on believing that their dollar is only worth being spent if it’s on someone who has appeared on their television first…even if they’ve never seen that person before. The venues have followed suit, giving the people what they want. But did you actually get more bang for your buck based solely on the credentials of the guy you’ve never seen before anyway?
The most ironic part is that audiences don’t realize that they’re doing themselves a disservice. The more TV stars you insist upon seeing in a comedy club raises your comedy dollar. That guy who has been on Comedy Central may very well be the best comic you’ve ever seen. But even if he isn’t, you will pay like he is. Booking guys like that costs more money. Celebrities cost even more. Is is possible you would have laughed just as hard at some non-famous comedian…and for less money?
There was a time when people went to comedy clubs because it was a comedy club. It was where they would see professional comedians being funny. But we have slowly done away with that and convinced them that a “professional comedian” is only as good as the TV show he has appeared on. When we probably should have been pushing “This is the PLACE to see live comedy”, we chose instead to say “This is where you can see people that have been on TV”. The audiences expect it because we’ve conditioned them to believe that’s what’s important.
I recently read several comment cards left on the table at a local comedy club. There was line where the club had asked “What Comedians Would You Like To See Here In The Future?”. I was amused to see how many people responded with the names of comics that they had no chance of ever seeing at a 100 seat club such as that one. Chris Rock was one example. Dane Cook came up several times. Larry The Cable Guy came up a few times. No one put some random guy they’d seen on The Late, Late Show. In fact, the only names listed at all were those of household names, movie stars, and enormously popular comics who only do big venues. Yet the very fact that people actually thought they could get to see HUGE celebrities performing at a 100-seat basement club at 10 bucks a pop was hilarious. People weren’t just insisting on seeing people with TV credits under their belts; they want outright stars. So, why the insistence on seeing comedians who have been on The Tonight Show when apparently that doesn’t matter, either?
It’s our own fault, really. Those of us who work in the stand-up comedy business have brought this upon ourselves. After all, we’ve convinced audiences to believe that being on TV is the best qualifier for a gig at ChuckleDumps in Enid, Oklahoma. Why shouldn’t they also believe that they should expect to be four feet away from a major celebrity comedian for spare change?