Okay, that was an aggressive question. There are tons of obvious reasons why you should bother with solo performing: it’s easier to assemble when you don’t have to work around other peoples schedules, there’s nobody to say no to the big idea that you want to try, you can be more personal with your work, etc and so forth. But solo performance is also probably one of the most at-risk styles for complete and total douchery. People start writing a solo show and all of a sudden entertainment gets thrown out the window in favor of masturbatory personal stories or long-winded character pieces that show off your “acting.” If I wanted to be bored and polite, I’d listen to NPR! (jk, NPR is fine, I don’t really know)
I’m pondering all this because I’m prepping new material to try out over the next two Tuesdays at Sketchtest here in Chicago (check out my Shows page for more info). I should also qualify here that I’m talking very specifically about a solo comedy performance. Not stand-up, not improv, but a solo comedy performance that would probably be closest in flavor to a sketch show. For you dramatic folks who want to do a one-woman show about the Holocaust…I’m sure that none of my findings have any application for you. Or maybe they do. Just don’t rush for the punchline in a Holocaust show, okay?
My roommate, Andrew Elizabeth Dierker, made a point about doing solo comedy that I think is what many such performers are missing: in most cases, comedy is about playing the fool. We laugh at the downtrodden characters, we laugh at the puffed up characters failing and having their egos deflated, we laugh at people getting hit in the nuts with a football or tripping as they’re walking down the aisle. In solo shows, the ego can take over very quickly. When the spotlight is on you and you alone, there’s an urge to want to show off. “I can sing, I can tap, I can do a handstand while reciting the alphabet! Celebrate me!”
That’s great that you can do those things. I don’t care. If I wanted to watch you jerk off, I’d come to your apartment on a Friday around 6 pm (is that accurate?). So now you’re probably saying “well if you don’t want me to show off my talents, then what exactly is it I’m supposed to do?”
I don’t know. Give me something I haven’t seen before. The problem with doing a solo show is that it’s often just you and a couple of props…you can’t fall back on production value or big ensemble numbers or rapidfire back and forth wordplay. Instead, you’re left to somehow make little old you a worthwhile enough thing that you can feel justified in charging people their hard earned money to watch you cavort around.
I’m not going to claim I’m a veteran at this and that I can offer years of perspective on the subject. I’ve just begun experimenting with solo performance and how to do it effectively so that it doesn’t feel dirty. Thus far, I’ve been taking a shotgun approach with a variety taste to it. Adhering to my personal performance beliefs, I like to acknowledge the audience’s presence. Talk to them at the top of the show, keep the personal stuff upfront when I’m just playing myself and use that time to get out any pressing thoughts for the week. I keep a menu onstage of titles of bits that I like and think would be fun to do, and before going into something, I’ll give the audience the choice between two of them and let them decide by shouting out which they’d rather see. I should emphasize the word “bit” here…these can range from one line of dialogue to maybe two or three minutes max. Cut straight to the thing you think is funny, milk it for a minute and get out before it turns indulgent. In a 12 minute set, I can fit 6 or 7 pieces in, which gives me a nice safety net if something goes wrong. It’s the Midwestern Weather Approach to Comedy: don’t like this bit? Wait a minute and it’ll be completely different.
The real question is going to be figuring out how to translate that rapidfire approach to delivering content into a full 40 minute or hourlong piece. I suspect most solo shows start off really fun and simple and tight and then collapse under the pressure of having to keep going even though the format kind of demands to be taken in small doses. As I go, I’m going to continue updating this discussion, but for the time being…let’s see if we can start assembling a list of do’s and don’ts for when you’re first stepping into the mix.
Do:
- Develop a deep well of incredibly simple, one-line concepts that make you laugh
- Ask yourself “is this actually entertaining or is this me showing off?”
- Keep it short, especially as you’re just beginning to workshop stuff
- Workshop as often as you can, wherever you’re allowed to do it
- Improvise within the idea…use your one line idea to go crazy and then write down what hits after the fact
Don’t:
- Plan so hard and stress so much. Especially at first, play it fast and loose. Steal my method if you have to and just make a list of things to try.
- Try to interact with tech. The cues will never hit right, the audio quality or volume in the theatre will never be good enough and if the whole bit is contingent on the audience listening closely to a sound file and laughing, you’re doing it wrong.
- Freak out if something looks like shit. You’re one person on a stage. The props can look bad, you can call out the limitations of your space and play into that. Solo is most often cabaret style.
What else should we add to this list? What bugs you about solo shows? What delights you? WE MUST BUILD THIS GUIDE TOGETHER!
