Last night’s show was interesting. First of all, I’d like to thank Alex at the Upstairs Gallery for fitting me in. I reached out to him previously about needing some help filling some days. He got back to me and helped me fill a show for last night. I greatly appreciate it. As for the show, I’m not really sure how to gauge it. We were having fun, playing games, and doing different characters, but the audience just wasn’t into it. Right from the start, I felt like the mood was off. We got the suggestion Pancake and I started talking about how I still like to order funny face pancakes when I go out to eat despite being 24. For some reason, I felt like the audience hated my guts the second I opened my mouth. The audience’s reaction didn’t change much throughout the show. There were a few laughs here and there, but mostly it was…tumbleweeds. Unusual because I’ve done shows at the Upstairs before that went very well. Shows that I look back at and am proud of. I can recall at one point thinking I’m having a lot of fun, but the laughs just aren’t coming. Which brings me to a very legitimate question. What defines a good show? Is it the laughter from the audience? Is it the relationships and scenes you and your partners create for yourself? Is it the fun you have? It’s a question I’m sure performers have found themselves asking before.
There was one scene in particular that I absolutely loved because it was absurd and ridiculous. David walked out by himself and was asking where everyone was. Quickly we established that he was in a forest and that the talking on the sides were coming from the trolls of the forest (Collin and I played the trolls). Ridiculous, but so much fun to do. Then, we started with the game of taking things away from him. He talked about his kids. We said “what kids?” and he reacted by screaming, “omg where did they go!?” He said, “I just wanna get back to my house” and we shouted “what house?!” The game would go on until finally he went to sit down and we said “what are you sitting on?”. He replied, “the ground” and we yelled, “what ground?”, which would lead to him pretending he was just endlessly falling. That quickly transitioned into R.L. Stine saying, “and that’s my new book.” I thought this was a fantastic transition into a new scene. The audience groaned. Yikes. It was a tough one.
Maybe we weren’t grounded enough. Maybe we weren’t physical enough. Maybe the audience just said to themselves, “I hate these guys because they have a short balding big eared doofus in the group.” (That last one was a joke). I have no idea. We agreed as a group that we were making smart moves and were happy with the show.
Every show is a learning experience so I’m happy I did this one.