Last Comic Standing Update… sorta (Episode 2, Season 7)

by Brian McKim & Traci Skene on June 15th, 2010

There’s a status update on a Facebook profile (the profile of someone who has a lot of juice in this business) about last week’s premiere episode of Last Comic Standing. We were stunned. For many resaons. Here it is:

Saw Last Comic Standing. And my stomach hurts like I got punched really hard. So incredibly sad to watch the circus. I feel bad watching great comedians like Andy Kindler and Greg Giraldo have to pretend someone is good…because the producers make them. It’s all part of the manipulation that is “reality television.” The only saving grace is the huge exposure comedians get from this.

This is great.

He essentially took a shit– a whopping, steaming shit– on the credit that is “Appeared on LCS, Season Seven.”

He has portrayed everyone– from Giraldo and Kindler on down– as being sad, as participants in a “circus.” This is just wonderful.

Not only that, he has implied that Kindler and Giraldo– perhaps the two greatest innovations of the new season– are essentially puppets (who “pretend someone is good…because the producers make them”).

And, by not naming names, he has implied that anyone who made it through to the evening showcase was moved on, not because of talent, but because of producer fiat.

Giraldo and Kindler have a difficult job to do. (We’re only leaving out Leggero because she wasn’t singled out in the Facebook status update.) And they’re doing it with integrity and humor. And not a hint of vitriol or condescension.

In the past, other comics have been given this task and have handled it poorly– Ant being the most notorious. So we have no problem with the way these judges are carrying out their duties.

To imply that these two comics– arguably among the most respected and admired in the business– are being cynically manipulated (or are themselves cynically manipulating others) is… cynical.

We’re fascinated by some of the comments that have been popping up on some of the blogs and throughout some of the social media.

“That’s what happens when you need a paycheck,” chimed in one comment on the above quoted status update. “It is an incredibly sad and disturbing portrayal of comedy esp. for those of us who’ve worked so hard to be successful at it.” said another.

A third comment added:

That show has always been just awful… to sell the idea that these are the best comics in the country, or anything at all close to that– is pathetic. For all of us comics busting our tails in this business… what a sham. I can only imagine how painful it is for someone of your level to see this amateur night to be passed off as a contest.

We add that these commenters are comedians.

We ask them: Exactly who was the pathetic comedian from last week? Was it Kirk Fox? Who are the sad ones from last week? Laurie Kilmartin and David Feldman, perhaps?   Which of the “amateurs” that were passed through last week’s “circus” caused the above commenters so much anguish? Shane Mauss? Or Chip Pope, maybe? Was it the promotion of Maronzio Vance or Taylor Williamson that caused this lynchmob so much heartache?
We were frustrated about certain elements of the broadcast.  We’ve detailed exactly what it was that so bothered us.  But, there’s nothing remotely “sad” or “disturbing” about what transpired on that premiere episode.

It was two hours of comics– mostly accomplished and respected comedians– who were excited and grateful for an opportunity to garner network primetime exposure.  If you found anything sad or pathetic about it, you had better reassess your relationship to the business.  And get a hold of yourself.

And get over yourself.

Now the “circus” moves on to New York.  And this time the producers had the audacity to use their strongarm tactics to force Kindler and Giraldo and Leggero into promoting such sad, pathetic amateurs as Roy Wood, Jr., Tommy Johnagin, Kurt Metzger and Mike DeStefano to the big show.

We can certainly see why some folks might feel as though they’d been punched in the gut after watching that sorry spectacle.

And what a bunch of saps these contestants are!  After all, the only saving grace of having been selected to perform in Los Angeles is the huge exposure… on primetime network television.  What a gang of suckers they must feel like!

We must ask: Why does anyone appear on a network television show?  For the thrill?  To change minds?  To prove, once and for all, to our dead father that we eventually amounted to something?

Get a grip, people: We do it for the exposure!  Of course it’s the only saving grace!  Do you think people do it for the AFTRA minimum? Hell, no! It’s for the exposure.

How many hoops do we usually jump through to get similar exposure on, say, a late-night television show?  We do the same 4:30 set over and over and over until it isn’t even remotely funny to our own ears.  We submit the transcript to be picked over by Standards and Practices and dutifully consent to their ridiculous requests.  We fly to a distant city and cheerfully acquiesce to the often bizarre and senseless changes “suggested” by the talent coordinator.

You can only get so much exposure by performing four shows a weekend to a total of 750 people.  Television provides a way to get your message, your persona, your particular brand of comedy alchemy to as many people as efficiently as possible in the hopes of turning that 750 into 1,250… and eventually into 12, 500…  in one night.

And, with few exceptions, the only thing that can work that magic is television.

And if you dare to condescend to anyone who knowingly and willfully submits to jump through LCS’s (neglibly) different series of hoops, then you are unnecessarily denigrating your fellow comic… and preposterously elevating yourself  above him.  And all so that you can tsk-tsk about it the next time you’re in a green room, or the next time you update your Facebook status.

Now, that is pathetic.