One of my fears is that I'm not actually funny. As a result, I constantly try to be funnier so that people will never realize how unfunny I actually am.
The feelings of depression I get from watching comedy have been with me for a while. I normally don't watch too much of an open mic, unless I'm watching a friend performing, because watching people struggle against themselves hurts my guts. I've never really tackled that feeling before, here's an attempt.
02.21.2011
Lucas Molandes
One problem with performing is that regardless of the outcome, no matter what happens on stage, I'm a display. I'm another product on the entertainment aisle for shoppers to pick up, gawk at, judge, and ultimately purchase or put back. This is a process I've been apart of for several years now. Through experience, it has gotten better. Regardless of location, I have come to trust myself and my point of view, but sometimes after a show, I feel cheap and easy.
Judging is something we all do, as it's a part of human nature. When something is different, or beyond the realm of our comfort zone, we try to classify that something in a way that our mind can make peace with. If I see a person on stage doing something wonderful beyond anything I've ever imagined, after the show I might say to them, "that was a wonderful piece of performance art." By doing this, I've given it a definition (performance art) in my own mind, and now I can go back to the safety of my ability to judge things within a familiar context.
What I'm saying is, if I can judge you, I'll feel better about myself, and so I need to make you a product in my mind because that is easier to grasp than any abstract concept which may indirectly act as a mirror to how incorrectly I am living my life. Judging is a behavior that we engage in when our ego needs protecting, and it's important because the judgment reveals much about ourselves. If you look at advice columns, the motives of the people who write them are revealed in the advice.
What I'm getting to is I made the statement that comedy might ultimately be limiting, but comedy is also exciting in that there are no rules. Even laughter isn't a requirement.
I feel like what makes a performer fun to watch is their ability to stand outside the realm of judgment. When a crowd feels like they get what you're trying to do, they're more likely to tune out because they see you the way you might see an aisle full of toothpastes. Some crowds don't mind this though. There are several clubs in the country whose audiences like humor that is comfortable. There's nothing wrong with that, but as a performer, it can be draining to be a caricature of an unoriginal concept just to pay rent each month. Other comics are edgier, but they use it as a device to manipulate and manufacture a self-image. As Bryson Tuner has joked about on stage, these are the comics who say, "I don't give a fuck what you think....you know what I mean?" There are comedians who use slight of word to trick people into perceiving themselves as clever.
Some performers don't rebel against 'the rules', but fundamentally break them down and reveal how there are no rules -- they do this through honesty. I'm not saying that a prop comic can't be honest, but I am saying that when I see someone who isn't being true to themselves, it depresses me. (And this happens a lot at open mics, and that feeling carries over to other shows -- regardless of if that feeling is valid or not. I shouldn't put my crises on other people.) But who am I to say if someone isn't being true to themselves? I don't know, but that's where the gut feeling kicks in.
The ones who are honest are the ones who exist side by side us in our own existence. They are not a display. They do us a favor by showing how little we are actually separated by one another. These are the performers who excite me and make me want to live up to the world they see. They are they ones that reveal how judging them is ultimately judging yourself because we are all continuous beings exploring our own humanity. No one is any one thing. I'm not just a funny person. I'm not shackled into that identity. A construction worker is more than that. A politician is more than that. A victim is more than that. And on...humans, etc.
And so most of life is struggling against the images we have created, or the image that society has placed on us, in order to fit in. Early on, before we have a real sense of self, we dress up in an image that is readily acceptable by social standards. (This is part of our defense mechanism. If I get rejected after a first date, which is more painful -- being rejected because I acted like someone I thought the other person wanted, or being rejected because I was myself? Neither really, because no one will ever know you from such a superficial interaction. This is something I've learned through life.)
Early on, we want to be a product on the shelf. Some people want to be the best product on the shelf, with the most wonderful decorations, but that's not enough for others. As one advances, they may find how limiting that is. We want to show people that we are more than we are, but being aware of how people see us, and trying to work around that means the best we can ever hope to be is a rejection of how they see us. How honest is that? That's what scares me about being on stage. What if I am only a rejection of how I think people could see me.
What are the limitations of comedy? Well, one might argue that comedy has no limitations. Look at what Carlin and Kaufman did...are you going to tell them that comedy wasn't enough? I would argue that comedy wasn't everything they did. At some point, the greats transcend their original canvas and show us all the potential we have as a species. These people do make us uncomfortable because they are the ones who show us the work isn't in holding onto our way of life but in continuously striving. We may build roads that work today, but that doesn't mean we solved traffic problems for all times. It's a continuous process that takes more effort than any war we'll ever fight or any bill that'll ever be passed. It's ultimately a test of the faith we have in humanity and in our ability to let go of what we feel entitled to in the name of a greater good. (Shit, there's no way this is all subconsciously affecting me at an open mic...I hope.)
So the question becomes, am I limiting comedy or is comedy limiting me? Probably neither. Will I ever be good enough to claim the stage and people's time? Will I ever be able to explore my complete potential on stage? That depresses me, the thought that I'll fall short of what I could be. It depresses me to think that if I judged myself in this way, I'd find that I am not striving for honesty, but for approval through some kind of affected performance art long form comedy thingy.
Eh, but that's what keeps me moving forward. I'll stop here. The baby has gone back to sleep, for now.
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