It takes a special kind of masochist to willingly endure the horrors of performing stand-up at New York City open mikes. And yet, because it is New York City, it isn’t surprising that there is no shortage of exactly this type of person: someone with a high tolerance for awkwardness, embarrassment and insecurity, combined with a tenacious craving to make people laugh and hopefully, if the chips fall exactly right, to do this for a living.
On any given night, there are dozens of open mikes in the five boroughs. They are often in basements and back rooms, tucked out of sight, and there is no compensation. Many times, the comics — most of them male — must pay a small price to get a few minutes — “a tight five.”
These sets serve as the birthplace of jokes that will someday make paying crowds guffaw and as the graveyard of those that don’t. The open mikes draw comedians of all experience levels, and many do more than one per night, testing whether a joke should be nurtured or laid to rest.
The material features a wide collection of topics: heartbreak, the mundane, race, gender, heartbreak, religion, more heartbreak. At a time when most late-night comedy shows and stand-up professionals are focusing on President Trump, these open mikes can be a refuge from politics — a reminder that modern American humorists have not been entirely consumed by the 24/7 news cycle.
The crowds are brutal, making it tougher for comedians to test their material. The audiences are made up almost entirely of fellow comedians. They are often scribbling their own jokes and running through their own sets mentally rather than paying attention to the stage. Sometimes, they’re just not interested in laughing. They want to be the funniest guy in the room.
“A crowd of comedians is tough just because we’re kind of jaded,” said John Donovan, 26, who attends up to 15 shows a week. “I see comedy two or three times a day already. Most of it is at an open-mike level. So you’re not expecting it to be that good.”
We took a tour of some open mikes in Manhattan one evening in the same way some comics do every day, and found ourselves in a dark world of therapeutic passion, discomfort and, sometimes, unbridled joy.
On any given night, there are dozens of open mikes in the five boroughs. They are often in basements and back rooms, tucked out of sight, and there is no compensation. Many times, the comics — most of them male — must pay a small price to get a few minutes — “a tight five.”
These sets serve as the birthplace of jokes that will someday make paying crowds guffaw and as the graveyard of those that don’t. The open mikes draw comedians of all experience levels, and many do more than one per night, testing whether a joke should be nurtured or laid to rest.The material features a wide collection of topics: heartbreak, the mundane, race, gender, heartbreak, religion, more heartbreak. At a time when most late-night comedy shows and stand-up professionals are focusing on President Trump, these open mikes can be a refuge from politics — a reminder that modern American humorists have not been entirely consumed by the 24/7 news cycle.
The crowds are brutal, making it tougher for comedians to test their material. The audiences are made up almost entirely of fellow comedians. They are often scribbling their own jokes and running through their own sets mentally rather than paying attention to the stage. Sometimes, they’re just not interested in laughing. They want to be the funniest guy in the room.
“A crowd of comedians is tough just because we’re kind of jaded,” said John Donovan, 26, who attends up to 15 shows a week. “I see comedy two or three times a day already. Most of it is at an open-mike level. So you’re not expecting it to be that good.”
We took a tour of some open mikes in Manhattan one evening in the same way some comics do every day, and found ourselves in a dark world of therapeutic passion, discomfort and, sometimes, unbridled joy.
by Sopan Deb, NY Times | Read more:
Image: Christian Hansen for The New York Times
