Local comics make Bloomington laugh

Opening night of the big show - lights go down, audience shushes and the curtains come up. Onstage, there are no sets, no costumes, no script, no crew, no director and a cast of one. Most actors would call this a nightmare, but a few regulars at the Comedy Attic's open mic call it a gig.

“It could be a desperate need for attention or the approval of total strangers,” said Jamison Raymond, a frequent performer at the Comedy Attic on Fourth and Walnut streets.

Whatever the reason, Raymond and other local comics have spent years honing their craft at open mics, occasionally opening for the larger acts that tour through Bloomington at the Comedy Attic.

“You hope you’ll become famous overnight, or at the very least someone will take you along somewhere to make money,” Raymond said.

But that hope for fame and fortune is up against a sea of dead crowds and long nights on the road.

“It comes down to do you have the heart to stay in it for 20 years and to not be funny for 15 of that?”

Besides an audacious nerve, a few common qualities are shared by the people who get up behind microphones alone. Jon Hancuff, master of ceremonies at the Comedy Attic’s Best of Bloomington show last Wednesday, said he sees comedians muttering under their breath a lot — not because they’re schizophrenic, but because material has to be tried out loud to tweak pacing.
 
“The best comics see things that no one else sees,” Hancuff said. “Carlin said good comedy goes down a road you’ve been down before and drives you into a ditch at the last second.”

Another big hurdle for comedians is dealing with life on the road. In the Midwest, every major city has a couple of comedy clubs, so some comedians try to drive a circuit and make their money in a loop ending back in whichever city they’re based out of.
“There’s two in Indy, two in Dayton, two in Cincy and Louisville, one in Columbus,” said Raymond, ticking off landmarks from a map in his head.
 
But whether they’re driving or flying, when they arrive they’re just looking to
relax.

“Most comedians are not interested in being funny offstage,” said Jared Thompson, owner of the Comedy Attic. “They’re not trying for laughs in the greenroom.”

Thompson books professional comics who make their living doing stand-up, creating a star-studded line-up every weekend at the Comedy Attic.

“The comics are like me. Neither of us have a boss,” Thompson said. “There’s
nobody standing there saying, ‘You can’t try this.’ We’re lucky since Bloomington isn’t looking for me to hire a juggler or a rubber-face. They want to think before they laugh.”
Thompson said many comics fit the profile of the outsider unable to fit in.
 
“Maybe in school they were made fun of, they weren’t a cool kid or they sat on the outskirts of the world. They weren’t good at school or sports. But even for dorks, a poetry night is dorky. So comedy gives them an outlet to talk about their feelings.”

Thompson said he sees a strong link between the Comic-Con brand of nerd culture and stand-up comics such as Patton Oswalt. Raymond’s set featured references to X-Men’s Wolverine and a memorable observation on the costume choices of Star Trek fans.

“If you’re really serious about comedy,” Raymond said, “you’re going to run into people doing it pro, and they can help you get a sense if what you’re doing is correct.”
“Some people are born with the ability to create,” Thompson said, “and sometimes they don’t find out it’s comedy until they go through art, painting, writing ... but at the end they were predisposed to making people laugh.”