I’ve learned, as of late, that there seems to be a lack of knowledge about how to effectively produce comedy shows. I’ve heard more than my fair share of anecdotal evidence in LA pointing to this. Maybe if you’re reading this from whatever scene you’re in, you’ve got your gripes too.
When I first started seriously pursuing stand-up comedy, I was told that starting a room was an essential move. I started a monthly show at a bar in my college town that paid me in beer, and never looked back. In the close to 15 years I’ve been doing comedy, I’ve been involved in producing about a dozen regularly recurring shows, plus more than a handful of one-or-two-offs for fundraisers and special events. They’ve run the gamut stylistically, from open mics to scrappy variety shows to alt-scene showcases to club-based format shows. I’ve done weeklies, bi-monthlies, monthlies, even quarterlies. I’ve run ‘em in comedy clubs, black box theaters, dive bars, backyards, living rooms, rooftops, and the occasional wedding venue. Some were wild successes, some were slow burns, and plenty of them didn’t make it past the 5th show. I know very well that running a comedy show is no easy feat, because producing has frayed my nerves more than any actual stand-up set has. But every show I’ve produced was worth it, and most of them paid me in cash, not beer.
I say all that simply to reiterate: I know running a room is no easy feat. Producing a comedy show seems easy, but a lot can slip through the cracks. Yet, it seems imperative that young comics and green producers have an easily accessible blueprint to produce better shows. I’ve thought long and hard about this dilemma for the past few months, letting the once-boiling disquiet and confusion I felt simmer on the back burner until they became something more palatable. Now, I can see that you only need six things to be even just a halfway decent producer.
FIRST: YOU NEED TO UNDERSTAND WHAT PRODUCING IS
Producing is a nebulous term, especially in the Industry, but it essentially means getting people to do what you want them to. If you look at the dictionary, you find this apt definition: “cause a particular result or situation to happen or come into existence.” So producing a comedy show just means you're taking the lay of the land and asking two things:
How do I get the comics to show up and have a good time?
How do I get the audience to show up and have a good time?
These questions are intertwined. Creating an atmosphere that's a cool hang or unique vibe will make people want to come through, and hopefully come through again and again. Getting people to show up will feed into the comics having a good time, spreading the word about your show, and hopefully attracting other comics. Maybe even your literal comedy heroes.1 Better talent = better audiences = more trust = more of the result you want: a great show.
Now that we’re on the same page…
NEXT: YOU NEED A TEAM
You can't do it all yourself. I'm sorry to break it to you, but you can't. I pretty much guarantee if you don’t have at least one person helping, you're going to lose your goddamn mind. So bring a friend or two. A co-host, a DJ, a trusted bartender at your favorite local watering hole—anyone who can be in your corner in a crunch and lighten the load of running the room.
You deserve help, you should ask for it.
THEN: YOU NEED TIME
Not just time as in “minutes of material that you can do” – 7-10 if you’re running a showcase, 3-5 if you’re running an open mic, and minimal time in between performers please for the love of all that is holy – but time as in “time to run the damn room.” Your show should go for an hour and a half (your mic can go for longer if you’ve got the stamina) but account for at least double that for any given show. You need buffer time before the doors open and after the show ends. You need time to put your lineups together, to obsessively check ticket sales, to promote, to have wiggle room in case you need to run out and get a new microphone, cable, or other piece of kit.
Give yourself the gift of time, you won’t regret it.
ALSO: YOU NEED SPACE
Obviously, you need a venue. It could be anywhere. Maybe an old standby spot in the scene, maybe somewhere new. It could be a bar, a restaurant, a house, a garage. Ideally, it would have a private space away from the public, so that you aren’t ambushing people with comedy, but we can’t always operate in ideal conditions.
But you should look for somewhere that’s more than just a place to perform. You need a place that will be supportive of you doing shows there, preferably with someone in charge who actually likes comedy. It doesn’t make sense to shoehorn a show into a room with hostile management, regulars who hate that you’re doing comedy, or a venue that’s impossible to get to.
Ideally, you’ll be able to get something going at a spot that has a strong connection to the neighborhood. That will make the next piece easier.
LET’S NOT FORGET: YOU NEED TO THINK ABOUT THE LOCALS
This is easy to overlook, especially in LA, where so many of us are sitting there thinking "how do I make it?" But while the pursuit of a career in comedy has, by its nature, a degree of selfishness, I firmly believe that producing comedy shows is actually not about “making it.” Producing a comedy show is about being of service to the community.
Comedy shows provide work and opportunities for performers, help out local businesses, and bring more than a modicum of joy to the community. Comedy shows are a reprieve from reality, an escape from the everyday. They exist to entertain and give people a chance to try and be entertaining. They are, truth be told, extremely fucking neighborly. So wherever you’re running your room, think about your neighbors.
What do they like? What’s not there for them already? How can you fill a void and give them an option that it turns out they’ve been seeking all along? And, perhaps most importantly – how can you reach them directly and let them know you’re there?
FINALLY: YOU NEED TO CARE ABOUT YOUR ROOM
If you’re there for the people, you’ve got to let the people know you’re there. That means putting in concerted effort in its existence.
This is the really tough part that no one talks about, the caring. Because caring, like producing, is nebulous. But for a comedy show, caring means doing your best to keep it alive.
It means pounding the pavement and promoting, whether that’s by cultivating an online presence (and investing in marketing), or putting up flyers in the neighborhood on telephone poles and at businesses willing to give you a little shelf or window space. At Edinburgh Fringe, everyone flyers to everyone, and everyone gets rejected.2 But you learn how to boil down what your show is to five words, enough to hook passers-by. Learning how to promote means learning how to explain what you’re doing and why you’re doing it—an essential part of this whole enterprise.
It means trying your best to book lineups with a variety of comics featuring a range of styles, because diversity breeds better shows and uniformity is boring. It means seeing other people’s shows and paying attention to what works and what doesn’t, who you like and who you don’t like.
It means really figuring out what kind of room you want to run. What kinds of comics do you want to surround yourself with? Who do you want to be performing for? What do you really want to make? A workout room that’ll give you some leeway to swap spots? A big-deal showcase? A format show that requires a little more of an ask from all your performers? The Next Great Alt Show™? Care enough to find an answer.
It definitely means to stop asking comics you book to bring 3-5 friends. Ask them to share the flyer or promote the show, sure. But if you are producing a show yourself, you learn nothing by saying “hey everyone please bring 3-5 people so we can fill the room!” You’re just feeding into the same old lazy bullshit that bringer producers have tricked you into thinking is the norm. And I’m telling you this so you know there’s a better way, even if it’s harder and requires you to invest some time and money.
Also, yes, it means you will lose money. That’s okay! Produce a good enough show, something with staying power, and you can definitely go from in the hole to breaking even to earning a little money for gas or burgers (or both) on the drive home.
You’re putting out one product here: a room where people can see comedy. Care deeply and intensely about making it a great room, and you’ll be surprised at what you are capable of building.
WHAT ABOUT ME?
This week, you can find me:
doing shows in Los Angeles - full show calendar is here
getting ready to host WRONG! at the Comedy Store on the 26th at 8 PM, get your tickets!
Until next time, friends. Thanks for reading, I’m glad you’re here.
I don’t have the time or space here to gush about the Comedy Chow guys, who used to run a show at the Hooters on Hollywood Boulevard that eventually gained enough notoriety that Bill Burr dropped in on their last night, but feel free to ask me about how much I love them and what they did.
A friendly reminder here that it’s okay to not be for everyone.
Great points Jay, especially about not overlooking the locals. I think a good producer is someone who can be a KEY player without having to make it about themselves. As you brought up correctly, there is an element of selfishness to standup, which is why many who try producing do not succeed and even more don’t even bother trying.