The Way of the Stage

I love stand-up comedy, but I don't necessarily ever read books on stand-up comedy. Whatever books have been written about how to write jokes or find better ways to deal with the art or the business have never caught my eye. I gave them a shot, but then looked to other avenues. The books that draw me are by the successful comedians, particularly ones I idolized as a child. Steve Martin's Born Standing Up is the best one yet.

Yet, I also turn to other sources for perspectives on stand-up comedy because I think that there are lines that can be crossed and where other professions and experiences could help make me a better comedian and person. It's why Georges St. Pierre's The Way of the Fight is strangely the best book on stand-up comedy that I've read all year (okay, I haven't read many other books this year, but that should not discount the statement).

On paper, it wouldn't make sense. How could the life of a UFC champion be comparable to a comedian or any artist? But, that was the point of St. Pierre's book. It was to provide a biography of his life, yet that dwarfed in comparison to it being a source of inspiration and perspective for as many people as he could reach out to.

St. Pierre spends much of the book discussing fear, and using it as a benefit in life:

“The key, I discovered, is to understand fear and how it works. What I want to do is demystify fear. I don't have a choice, because fear walks next to you everywhere in life. It has a reason for being there. People feel fear because they sense a threat. Sometimes it comes from physical pain: something unseen falls on your head, it hurts, and you're immediately scared. That's normal, and what the fear is doing is telling you to be careful, to get out of the way because it doesn't want something else to fall on your head. So fear's purpose is ultimately good—that's what people forget.” (53)

Fear is a huge part of stand-up comedy, and a huge reason behind some of the worst conversations I've had with audience members after a show. There's always a person who says, “I've always wanted to try this” or “I've got some funny things to say.” Well, why don't you say them? They fear it. Who wouldn't? Who would want to get up on stage and be judged by a crowd of people? I was fearful when I first started. Every comedian had to be. But, you toss a few beers in, and you see if the 5 minutes of what's probably hack that you've written goes over well. Then, you keep at it, and the fear gradually goes away and the confidence builds as long as you keep getting the laughs.

Fear has to still be in the minds of plenty of stand-up comedians at my level or younger (maybe even older as well). There's still a lot to think about before I head up on a stage in front of a crowd no matter what the size. Questions run through my mind like, “Will they understand my humor?” “Will I give them what they paid for?” or “How many drunks are out there?” There's still the pressure that comes with entertaining. 

 

“Humility is the first rule of martial arts. Either you learn humility quickly, or you leave because your ego can't handle losing repeatedly. I don't like losing—nobody does, especially in front of your girlfriend or your buddies (or millions of people watching on pay-per-view television). But it's good to realize you're not always as strong as you thought. It's good in the long run.” (94)

Comedy translation: bombing on stage. Every comedian's bombed. I certainly have. But, as I mentioned in this month's Comedy Sitdown, on occasion, I want to bomb for the reasons that St. Pierre points out. As much as I may get laughs consistently for a few shows, one bombing at a show is enough to put me back into my place, and allow me to analyze myself and that situation to continue to get better.

“I like to watch the best athletes in other sports and how they react or move in certain situations. It helps me understand my own movements better. I break down their processes, their reactions, their movements. They perform certain tactics at speeds that are far greater than my own. It is good to see them perform at these speeds, and to improve my ability to follow their progressions.” (102)

If a person decides to do comedy, I have to believe he or she made that decision because of a love for stand-up comedy. You saw the greatest who do it, and you felt inspired to do it yourself. That was the basis for your roots and you can continue to use that through your progression. But, there's a great value to continuing to watch stand-up comedy both at a national and a local level. From a terrible open mic to Louis C.K.'s newest special, to me, there's always an opportunity to learn from the best and avoid the mistakes of the worst.

There are so many symbols that I could make revolving the notion of the fight and I did so in a way with the experience of being a comedian as compared to that of a pro wrestler after reading C.M. Punk's GQ interview. As St. Pierre discusses how he handles an opponent, so could I relate to the “fight” that occurs between the comedian and the audience.

“At any given time, in life or in battle, you only need to know two people to succeed: yourself and your opponent.” (117)

The audience at any comedy show isn't necessarily an opponent. They are here to be entertained, and I have the opportunity to do that for them. But, I have to make them laugh. That can be extremely easy or extremely difficult depending upon the crowd and their sense of humor.

“It's harder to know yourself than to know the enemy. Because when it comes to yourself, you have all these emotions—like pride, for example. You get carried away with your own emotions. In some of my fights, I lost control of myself, but if I'd known myself properly I would have calmed myself down immediately.” (117)

Emotions appear at their height when the audience becomes an opponent. I'm always fascinated about how a comedian reacts to a heckler or to bombing. I try to improve on that myself. I'd like to think I've never had a meltdown on stage in seven years, but I likely had a minor one. I've certainly witnessed a lot of meltdowns. Again, it's about learning to control those emotions in the same way and still not completely change who you are on stage.

“Sometimes you need someone from the outside to take a good look at you and tell you the truth. Tell you what's really happening. Sometimes you don't realize what kind of person you are; you need that external feedback.” (125)

Much of what I learned along the way with stand-up comedy came from comedians I didn't necessarily know all that well (either at the time or even now). I have to appreciate and at least take into consideration the perspectives of those who have more experience than I do and that who I respect when I see on stage. Likewise, unless you've proven yourself to be a complete idiot when conversing with me, I appreciate feedback from the audience. It's normally positive, and I've actually modified jokes based off inaccurate factual content thanks to audience members educating me.

“I believe that real friends are truth-sayers. They'll tell you when you're full of crap, or when you're being lazy, or when you're being rude, or when your ass looks fat in those jeans...” (129)

I simply like this quote because that's the type of friend I try to be and hopefully am, and those are the type of people that I try to surround myself with. Then again, I surround myself with comedians, and if they're not truth-sayers, I don't know who the hell is.

There are many other quotes and general stories from the book that could help people out, and maybe to some people, these are pretty standard inspirational messages. But, this is coming from a champion, a guy that got bullied as a kid, did not seem to have the pure genetics to be athletically gifted yet worked diligently and intellectually to succeed at his skill. These are the type of people I would want to embody as a comedian and as a person, and I would think others who try to be the best would want to as well.

I'm not the biggest UFC fan by any means. I didn't even know the half of the fights he was talking about. But, nevertheless, Georges St. Pierre's The Way of the Fight is worth reading for the stand-up comedian that continues to want to get better at what he or she does. Even if one world is filled with muscles and the other filled with dick jokes and alcohol, I'm convinced the octagon isn't that far off from the comedy stage.