There`s some funny business going on here. Not long ago, comedy was the exclusive property of city nightclubs, but now it`s the suburbs` turn.
From Oak Brook to St. Charles, comedy has followed a westward expansion, and those who were smart enough to realize that suburbanites have a sense of humor are laughing all the way to the bank.
”There`s definitely a trend for comedy in the suburbs,” said Garry Chambers, manager for Zanies at Pheasant Run in St. Charles. ”We came out here because of the growing insurgence of comedy. We`re happy with the response we`ve had, and the people are pleased to have some place to go.”
Catch A Rising Star opened a club in Oak Brook`s Hyatt Hotel because, general manager Paul Miczuga said, ”there were no comedy clubs in this area. To see comedy, you had to go north or downtown. We book `A` acts. Our headliner always has some type of national exposure. The feature act, or middle act of the show, is an up-and-coming rising star. The emcee is usually a local comedian who has proven himself in other clubs.”
Other clubs follow the same format. Zanies recently headlined with Big Ed, a Los Angeles comedian featured on cable comedy specials. Ed, who is nearly impossible to quote in a family newspaper, looks like the late transvestite actor Divine and sounds like Robin Williams doing insult humor at 10 times normal volume.
Although he`s a national comedian, Ed localizes each show.
”Have you ever driven down North Avenue?” he asked the audience sweetly. ”WELL I HAD TO!” he screamed. ”L.A. to O`Hare, two and a half hours. O`Hare to Pheasant Run, FOUR AND A HALF HOURS!”
He gathers local humor by observation, he said in an interview after his show. ”North Avenue was real. I asked how to get to Pheasant Run and they said get on North Avenue and drive. But it wasn`t funny when I was driving. I passed four K marts on the way, I was out there so long. I couldn`t use that downtown.”
He also does his homework. ”I find out the inside poop on where I`m at, where people shop, the where, the what. Before a show I read the local papers. I`ll find out where the hicks live, where the blacks are, where the Jews are, where the Italians live.” On stage, he will insult them all-and get away with almost all of it.
”Tonight I did some black jokes, and I felt brakes go on,” he said.
”There`s an aura; I can tell immediately if I`ve crossed over that thin line.”
Chicago`s Carla Filisha has also found a suburban barrier. Near the end of a Zanies middle act that had produced nonstop laughter for 20 minutes, she talked about her family. ”We`re hypocrites,” she said, ”which is why we make such good Catholics.”
The audience reacted with shocked intake of breath.
”I can`t say that here,” she taunted them. ”In the city, everyone laughs.”
What`s the difference?
”I think people go to church more in the suburbs,” she theorized later. ”When you`re raised Catholic, you`re not supposed to say that kind of thing. City people don`t take it as seriously; they probably figure they`re in hell already.”
There are other suburban ”sacred cows,” she said, including weddings
(”it`s as if I`m doing something against the sisterhood”) and traditions.
”Maybe in the city they`re not as respectful,” she said. ”When you live in Chicago, you walk home and find a bum drunk in your doorway; so you don`t take jokes as seriously.”
Downers Grove`s Dale Irvin, who has worked all over the country, also detects regional variations.
”The difference between Chicago and suburban audiences is much more subtle, though, than between Chicago and other areas of the country,” he said. ”L.A. audiences are jaded. They`ve seen just about everything. People in the South? They like jokes with one-syllable words.”
Chicago`s Al Katz claims that`s not just a joke. ”I may have to slow down some in the suburbs; South, I really have to. I had a guy in Alabama say, `You`re going to have to slow down, sir, I can`t understand you.` I personalize the routine to where I`m at.”
Tim Walkoe, a comic from Des Plaines, also personalizes his humor. ”I enjoy interacting right off the top of my head,” he said. ”I love performing live. It`s just like anything else, though. When it spreads out, the quality dips. If you go someplace that does wet T-shirts on Wednesday, and Thursday`s extremely wet T-shirts, Friday`s wet pizza, and Saturday`s a comedian, you can`t expect quality. These people are just out to make money, and the bottom line is they want to sell booze. To get quality comedy, go to the better clubs.”
Last Laff in Lisle considers itself one of those better clubs. The room opened six months ago and is unique in its de-emphasis on alcohol; it has no drink minimum, and at 9 p.m. every Saturday, it offers a completely non-alcoholic, non-smoking show.
”There`s a large community of younger people who would like to go to comedy clubs but can`t get in because of the drinking age,” manager Clayton Haworth said. ”The 18-to-23-year-old crowd can come in here because we`re small enough to control who gets served alcohol.” The 110-seat room in the Holiday Inn Crowne Plaza is filled on weekends.
`Comedy is definitely a trend,” Haworth said. ”It`s an alternative to happy hours and provides an entertainment background instead of just sitting around and getting drunk.”
Chambers is also filling the rooms at Zanies. ”I have very good crowds,” he said. ”Of course, you`re looking at $6 or $7 for a movie now. You can pay just a couple dollars more and see live, quality entertainment.” Miczuga believes that an educated public is creating a demand for the new market in humor. ”The trend today is toward smart humor,” he said. ”Five or ten years ago, there wasn`t a big place for sophisticated humor, but now people want clever comedy.”
All the club managers agreed that suburban comedy is here to stay, and that`s making a lot of people happy.
”I love comedy, and I`m glad it`s growing,” Al Katz said, his tone turning philosophical. ”The more clubs that open, the more stuff I can buy for my house.”
