An audience of one? I love that
I started doing stand-up 14 years ago and if you had told me then that some of my most memorable shows would be in a friend's living room and on Zoom, I would have taken that as a sign to choose another career path.
But what I have learned the past few years is that developing shows on Zoom and in people’s homes has actually lead to more creativity than a comedy club or traditional performance space would ever lead to.
House and Zoom shows were not something I would have chosen, they were just solutions to a very simple problem most performers have. Getting people to go to a place, it's the bane of every performer's existence.
In my experience, the path to a good 60 minute show takes about 20-30 performances which means I need to ration my audience members. I am not sure how many ‘fans’ I have, but it is probably somewhere between 275 and 300. I use the term fans very broadly; this includes my parents' friends Luanne and Susie, a few strangers I met at coffee shops who said they liked comedy and reluctantly joined my mailing list and the guy who does my taxes every year, David.
My first house show was the first performance of my first solo show, The 30 Year Old Virgin. My friend Elizabeth bought wine and snacks and invited 25 people over to her apartment and I just had to show up with my notes and give the new show a whirl. She got people to the place for me and I could save my Tax Guy David for a ticketed show down the line.
The other advantage was the audience were in their friend's living room, so they gave me more leeway to work through the show. Of course, there was free wine and that would cover for a myriad of the show's shortcomings. But most importantly, it was easy to get people to a place.
In 2020 when no one was going to almost any place, I solved that problem by bringing a new show to their living rooms, on Zoom. And I could sell these shows out by capping the attendance at one audience member. That’s right, if you RSVP the show is sold out. I figured, it is already an odd experience performing in my living room virtually to someone else in their living room with their mic turned off. Why complicate it by needing 30 people? One will do.
I started taking reservations for a new show called ‘An Untitled Comedy Show Told Intimately To You.’ I got 30 reservations, the entire run sold out! I performed the show every night over the next month. Over the month, as the story developed in to a show called Kevin James Doyle V. The City of New York and since I was talking to a person as well as a webcam, it started to feel more like a film than a live show
The show did turn into a film. I hired my friend Jeremy, a cinematographer, and we filmed the show at the locations where the stories took place: my apartment, a diner, a Broadway theatre, a courtroom and the streets of New York City. It was an easy transition because now I was just talking to Jeremy and his camera, no different from the 30 shows on Zoom where I had talked to the person and a webcam. The format helped create what the show became.
Once theatres opened back up, I was thankful to be back in front of a real live audience, but I also had a tool that I could always pull out when needed: one or two people who want to hop on a Zoom call and hear a story for 60 minutes from the comfort of their home.
So far, in developing this current show I am bringing to Fringe, After Endgame, I have performed in three living rooms, four shows at a small chapel around a table where I serve some wine, three sold-out comedy clubs, and eight shows on Zoom with one other person. Each has helped in its own way. The living rooms and the chapel help with the comfort and intimacy of the story, and the free wine allows people to forgive me if the show, in its early iteration, does not meet their expectations. (I can’t stress enough how much free wine covers a myriad of shortcomings.)
The comedy club is where the comedy must flourish and meet a paying audience's expectations. The Zoom helps with the overall arc of the show, finding new ways to connect it all.
A few years ago, I would have ranked these types of shows with a sold-out theatre at the top of the list and talking into a webcam to one other person at the bottom. I see it completely differently now.
The willingness of someone to sit with you for an hour and hear your show is a gift. It increases intimacy; it is rare, special, and unique. Forced punchlines fade away, obvious performative tricks lose their effectiveness, and if I am lucky, it starts to feel like talking to a friend over a campfire. And these days that is a very rare experience.
• Kevin James Doyle’s stand-up show After Endgame is at Just The Tonic Just Up The Stairs at 5.05pm
Published: 7 Aug 2024