Who steals from whom? Who cares?

by Brian McKim & Traci Skene on November 2nd, 2007

With few exceptions, we have never gotten into the middle of the Who Steals What From Whom controversies that have popped up here and there over the past two years or so. It’s not our style. It’s seems to be a giant waste of everyone’s time. And we also have warned of the danger of airing such things too publicly, of broadcasting such grievances too widely and inviting certain parties (like the media!) in on the conversation. We’re on record as saying that the aggrieved parties are better off going one-on-one with the alleged offenders.

And when Joe Rogan went YouTube and accused Carlos Mencia of stealing the “Mexicans building the border wall” joke (and did so very publicly), we cringed. He might have cited a better example if he was going to go medieval on Mencia’s ass, we thought. That gag was the worst possible gag he could have gone after to prove his point. Credibility plummeted. Nobody came out a winner.

The debate still rages on. (The media will use it to prop up every fifth or sixth article on standup for the next decade or so. Job well done, all of you!)

The Bill Brownstein column that ran in the Montreal Gazette (ostensibly a review of Dane Cook‘s The Lost Pilots DVD release) begins by rehashing the whole Louis CK/Cook controversy. But this line gave us pause:

Comedy is a tough business. And, sure, the possibility exists that two comics can come up with the same concept for a gag– but in this ever-wired universe, it seems highly unlikely.

Emphasis ours.

This notion– that comics sit around all day checking out other comics on the television or on the internet or by XMRadio or DVD’s or CD’s– does not comport with reality. We are worried primarily about our very own acts. We are not really all that psyched about watching the work of others. Oh, sure, we’ll watch another act and truly enjoy him or her. We’ll catch this comic or that on Late Night or at a showcase in NYC or LA. But the world that Brownstein and others imagine– in which comics are frantically trying to absorb the works of others so as to pilfer material (or make sure that none of theirs is pilfered)– is simply a fantasy.

Hell, the Male Half will have to alert the Female Half to a new bit in his act, and vice versa. Which means that a married couple of comedians don’t even constantly and vigilantly watch each others’ acts!

Many of us (most of us?) have a creative tunnel vision. At least once we get to a certain level of busy. Early on it is helpful– perhaps even necessary– to survey the comedic landscape, to watch voraciously every act that can reasonably be consumed. If for no other reason than to gather knowledge of standup, to get a handle on just how vast the artform is. To get a handle on the possibilities or, maybe, on the limitations.

But at a certain point, out of necessity, that ceases. Or it shrinks down.