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Mark Fradl

“So A Dyslexic Walks Into A Bra…”

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…and Other Tales From the Fringe of Dayton’s Comedy Scene.

The only sound cutting through the sea of silence is a slight feedback whine as the flop sweat pours from your forehead, reflecting chromatic prisms from the glaring, white-hot spotlight. You clench the microphone with sweat-slicked hands, as your mind becomes an echoing chamber of panic. You can’t even make out the faces in the crowd, the piercing light obliterates their features, changing the warmth of humanity into an amorphous blob of judgment. How could this have happened? Your mom told you that you were funny. The clerk at UDF always laughed at your jokes. Your shadow, nailed against the faux brick wall by the merciless spotlight, seems to shrink as your confidence bids you a fond adieu, leaving you for climes that are more hospitable. You either recover quickly, raining down a torrent of bon mots to cover your previous gaffe, or you walk the longest walk ever made under the glaring reproach of the unamused.
Stand up comedy is one of the least understood and surely one of the most minimally regarded of the performing arts, yet it is one of the most difficult crafts to hone, execute and endure. The constant pressure to produce and perform is unrelenting. Development of a single joke’s precision, synthesis and rhythm is always evolving. The eternal search for material, the sharpening of lines, the shaping of words and the final development of delivery is exhaustive. Ironically, just as perfection is almost within reach, the material is usually scrapped because it is no longer topical or has become tired and mawkish and now, all new material must be captured and crafted.
In an attempt to check out the local comedy scene with an eye for how they all got started, I interviewed several local comics. Some of them are fairly new to the landscape, appearing at open mic nights for very little or no compensation, while others are national road veterans, having amassed quite an impressive resume’. The first question that arises would have to be why anyone would want to pursue a career in comedy in the first place.
A seasoned comedian, Mark Fradl, started his career in 1992 and ran hard until 1999, before abruptly leaving the stage completely for various reasons, including being burnt out on the road and its day to day hustle. He returned to stand up several years ago because the desire for performing live was re-ignited within him. When I asked him recently why anyone would get into comedy, he said, “I think you’ll find most comics have the same story: people told them they were funny. They somehow got up the courage to go up that first time at an open mic night (still the hardest thing I’ve ever done) and they just kept doing it. The dream starts huge – Tonight Show, Letterman, sitcom – but quickly narrows down to more immediate goals – get a strong five minutes, get a strong fifteen minutes, get ANY work, get good work, and then the Holy Grail of goals: quit the day job. I think that’s what keeps people in it, there’s always another little rung to climb. Step-by-step you’re deeper into the life.”
Ryan Singer, who used to be a schoolteacher for Dayton Public Schools and is now on national tours stated candidly, “I just had to. It is that simple. As a kid I remember seeing standup comedians on television and thinking to myself, ‘that is the best job ever!'”
A recent college graduate as well as a fairly current addition to the local comedy scene, Mat Thornburg took a slightly different route to the stage. “I was really involved in theater in high school” he wrote me, “and I always ended up getting cast as the comic relief. People kept telling me that I should try standup comedy, but I had no idea how to get started. Then when I was in college they had a comedy contest to win tickets to see Dane Cook. So I guess you could say the reason I got on stage the first time was because I wanted to see Dane Cook, but really it was something that I was going to do sooner or later and the contest was just an easy way to make that first step.”
Jeff Bang, nicknamed, quite unimaginatively ‘Banger’, is a butcher by day and does stand up locally as well as working at Wiley’s comedy club as a…well…I’m not really sure what Banger does, keeping me company while I stand outside and smoke, I guess. Anyway, when I asked him why he kept doing stand up, he answered my question with a question.
“Why do I keep doing it? Do you know what it’s like to get a good high? A big rush?” To which I replied that not only had I never imbibed in any illicit drugs in the past, I would eschew all illegal substances in the future if in fact any illegal substances were presented to me. He did not believe me, informing me that I was full of bovine fecal matter and continued onto his point. “There is no bigger rush than standing on a stage and making people laugh. There is no bigger rush. You get up there and do it and you have however many people are there, a hundred, a thousand, however many, and they’re in the palm of your hand and they are just hanging on every word. There is no bigger rush than that.”
Mark Fradl echoed Banger’s reasoning with, “…the good shows are great enough to get you through the bad ones. There’s still the insane rush of coming up with an idea and doing it on stage that night and honing it show after show. And there’s still a thrill in seeing how you’re bringing some pure laughter into someone’s life.”
“You’ve got to have that burning desire like 24/7 that makes you want to go out… just want to go out. You’re scared and nervous, but you want to go out there.” remarks James Earl Tompkins from Springfield. Originally from the East Side of Chicago, he landed at Wilberforce and Central State in his mid-twenties. His inspiration actually came from a speech class where he learned how to debate and discuss topics. He saw that he could apply those concepts to comedy and began trying to hone the mechanics at open mic events. His first forays did not always go as planned. “I felt so small on a lot of those days. I just wanted to hide. Hide out for weeks.” He sought solace in books that showed him the pitfalls of failure and how to strike back and overcome over adversity.
Egyptian born Sherif Hedeyat, who lives in a three-bedroom sleeper cell in Centerville and is one of the members of the Axis of Evil Comedy Tour, started in much the same way. While attending Wright State University, he tried out an open mic night at the now defunct Joker’s Comedy Café.
“I remember I was in the lounge at Wright State,” Sherif recalls, “and I remember somebody saying, ‘Hey, you’re pretty funny. You should try doing comedy at Joker’s.’ I went in there one night and just ate it bad. Literally it was like a year between my first and second time on stage because I was sitting there going, ‘Man! That was a painful experience!’ Then the second time on stage…well, it’s kind of like a drug. You start once, then you go back a while later and then you start to want it and you get better and you want it more, and it progressed.”
With ego crushing moments, little or no pay and the constant reworking of material, why would some partially sane person keep subjecting themselves to this potentially abusive mistress? The rush and the possibility of fame and fortune are motivating forces, but definitely not one that ranks the highest in most of the comedians’ minds that I interviewed.
“I keep doing it because there’s nothing else that provides the same thrill or satisfaction.” says Mat Thornburg. “Standup is great because you know instantly how you’re doing. That can be bad when you’re not doing well, but when you are doing well it’s great to hear it in the audience’s laughter. I think another reason I keep doing it is that there’s always room for improvement. There’s always something I can get better at or something I can make funnier and every performance is an opportunity to learn something new about standup and what works for you as a performer.”
I wondered if the national headliners looked down upon the aspiring comedian with disdain. Having already slogged up the mountain, did they view the local comics as untalented plebes or would they remember the arduous journey that they themselves had made and offer some assistance. I asked Banger this question, because he has a unique perspective, hanging out at Wiley’s, doing whatever it is he does there.
“A good headliner will look at an open mic guy that’s ‘got it’, especially the ones who’ve ‘got it’, and encourage them and they’ll give them little tips here and there.” Jeff said, “The ones (headliners) who are stuck on themselves, and they’re not usually the best headliner in the world, those are the ones that look down on the open mic guys.”
Ryan Singer had a slightly differing view, stating, “I think headliners don’t spend much time thinking about the local comedians one way or the other. I think headliners have their own careers to worry about and especially in the business nowadays, it can be brutal because there are so many comedians out there trying to work the same rooms. It is a tough business and when you do find a headliner that wants to help you, it is truly a random act of kindness. There are those that enjoy seeing the local comedians and offer good advice about building a career. Most young comedians don’t want to hear the advice because is all about patience and hard work. It takes a long time to become an overnight success in comedy.”
The Dayton and surrounding area has nurtured many nationally known humorists and comedians. Jonathan Winters, Erma Bombeck, Dave Chappelle, Drew Hastings, Dave Zage, Kenny Smith, Jesse Joyce, Gary Owen, Rob Haney…the list goes on and on. Is the Dayton comedy scene still a vibrant and living player on the national stage?
“Actually, I see a lot of good, up and coming comedians.” said Sherif. “There was a time for several years when we (local comedians) weren’t working ‘together’. I mean, when I came up, Cincinnati had Josh Sneed, Greg Warren and those guys, they were all hanging out together, they were writing together, they were in the clubs hanging out, they were creating that scene. In Dayton, it was almost like everyone was just doing their own thing or they were going to Cincinnati or Columbus to hang out. It seems like ever since the Funnybone opened (in Beavercreek) we got a whole new clientele and audience and we’ve got a whole new crop of comedians.”
To stand at a microphone alone, captured by the spotlight in front of a group of strangers with the intent of making them laugh is a daunting task unto itself. A classically trained actor performing a one man show does not have to carefully gauge the spectators and change up lines in midstream or alter the dialogue to please his audience. If an audience came to see Hamlet, then Hamlet they shall see. Yet how do you please a group that just shows up with the expectation of being made to laugh? Everyone’s sensibilities and sense of humor are truly not the same. The ability to have a rural farmer sitting next to a office worker who is seated near a college student and having them all succumbing to the least understood of all human reactions, that of laughter…well, one is truly encountering art at its most refined.
You can check out some of the best that the area has to offer almost any given Sunday at Wiley’s Comedy Niteclub (check website for details). This coming month, from July 1st through the 4th, Wiley’s will be holding a comedy contest, which I would like to think of as a Comedic Thunderdome-esque Cage Match of Epic Proportions, but Rob Haney just tells me to shut up when I say things like that. Anyway, you can come down and watch the best of the best compete for comedic glory or, since there is enough time, stand in front of a mirror, your dog and your family for a month, spitting the best anecdotes and one liners you can think of, honing your skills for the Big Time! The winner will receive $1,000 in American currency and forever secure their place in the Dayton’s Hall of Humor…well, if we had one of those here in Dayton, I’m sure that you would be secured there. Check out the open mic nights, and especially come out and support the local talent for the Wiley’s Comedy Contest on Thursday, July 1st at 8:30 pm, Friday, July 2nd at 9:00 pm, Saturday July 3rd at 8:00 pm and 10:30 pm and Sunday, July 4th at 8:30 pm. Tickets are a mere $2. To enter the contest yourself, contact via e-mail Jack Wilson [email protected].

The Dichotomy Of Comedy

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Mark Fradl Brings Clever Comedy To Wiley’s

            Throughout the history of mankind, smiling, laughter and humor have become noted as an integral part of our genetic makeup, as evidenced in the rudimentary, usually obscene, hieroglyphs of the Egyptians, the crudely drawn doggerel of the Greeks and Romans and on through to the laborious treatises written by philosophers, psychologists, psychiatrists and medical doctors over the ages. Although the impetus for laughter varies wildly from individual to individual, the reaction itself is one of the most universally accepted, yet least understood in the lexicon of human responses.

Plato examined the negative aspects of humor in his exposition entitled The Republic, and concluded that the inherent “psychopathic laughter” was indicative of one’s envy and malice against his fellow man or an egocentric method to secure one’s superiority through the brutal ridiculing of others shortcomings, circumstances or lower social status. Arthur Schopenhauer later developed his “theory of the absurd,” which, simply stated, says that laughter is the reaction to the realization that a person’s expectations have been been misdirected by an incongruous element that, in the final analysis, is absolutely ridiculous. Theorists and scholars have postulated wildly divergent theories as to the origin of laughter and humor, yet have been shown to be debatable at best.

The reason I am expounding on the theories of humor in this rather long winded intro is that it reminded me of a series of correspondences I began with comedian Mark Fradl sometime back in late 2007, a dialogue that has been maintained into the present. When I first corresponded with Fradle, a Dayton native who splits his time  between here and Austin, TX, he was just getting back into the comedy scene after taking a six year hiatus after becoming somewhat disillusioned with the world of comedy. Even after reemerging on stage around 2005, Fradl still remained somewhat nihilistic with regards to the direction mainstream comedy was heading in as well as the broad cross section of audiences who are less interested in clever comedy as they are in being entertained. One of the reoccurring themes of lie within the definition and decisive nature of a certain type of comedian.

“There’s the dark breed that want to connect with the audience…but only on their terms.  As I write that, I’m realizing that this is really where the difference lies between the good comics and the hacks; Are you trying to put yourself where they are or are you trying to bring them over to where you are?” Fradl went on, referencing some previous discussions that we had had on the topic. “So that goes back to something we ended on yesterday; The difference between trying to bring the crowd onto your way of thinking, or pandering down to meet their way of thinking. Are you making them say, ‘Yeah, that’s what I always say too!’ or are you making them say ‘Hey, I never looked at it that way – he’s right!’”

The universal appeal of comedy is almost as illusive as it is accepted. While on the one hand, almost everyone needs the release that laughter offers, while at the same time, what one person may find as patently offensive another may find absolutely hilarious.

            “Again it comes back to the unique nature of comedy. It has to have more universality than almost any other art form I can think of. Gore Vidal is a legend, yet most people have never read one of his books. Leonard Cohen or Tom Waits are never played on the radio and yet they’ve had immensely influential careers; but you really can’t be in a niche in comedy. The comic equivalent of Tom Waits or Leonard Cohen or Elvis Costello would die a miserable death in the average club. Even legends like Bill Hicks, Mitch Hedburg and Doug Stanhope were banned by more clubs than they worked, and only through years of persistence did they build their followings and move from clubs to theaters.”

At one point, Fradl was able to clarify, somewhat, was the nature of comedy for the masses with a rather apropos metaphor.

“Ranch dressing is bland, inoffensive (except to those who are offended by it’s inoffensiveness), and sells by the bucket load.  No one’s ever sold a bucket of Sesame Ginger Wasabi Vinaigrette.  You can’t get Roast Raspberry Chipotle dressing in a 64 ounce squeeze bottle.  Likewise, comedy has to appeal to the broadest possible market.  In most cities there are only one or two clubs, and those clubs survive only by attracting the largest cross section of the population – suburban couples, urban hipsters, a couple celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary, a bachelorette party, the trucker, the lawyer, the graphic artist, the cashier and the fry cook. Imagine coming up with anything that group can agree on.  Best to just put out the ranch dressing – a lot of people will love it, most will like it, and even those who hate it won’t be surprised to see it.  Welcome to comedy.”

As an example of the seemingly incongruous separation between brilliance and mass acceptance, Fradl related a personal experience he had.

“Bill Hicks is a legend of comedy, right up there with Lenny Bruce or young Woody Allen, but I don’t think most people know that when he was alive, his career was struggling. Even with numerous Letterman appearances and several HBO solo specials, he was having a hard time getting work because he wasn’t for everyone. I saw him live in 1992 in Cleveland and he ate it.” Fradl recollects that, “We were sitting in the second row in a room filled with 500 people just dying at his dark rantings, and I remember turning around at one point and seeing 495 faces staring at us, trying to figure out what the hell we thought was so funny.”

Comedy is the act of walking a thin tightrope in the dark, always at the mercy of the prevailing winds of public opinion and never really sure how far the fall might be, especially for a comedian who is just starting out or struggling to get ahead. Even road veterans are sometimes tripped up by the seemingly arbitrary change in social mores or the pressure of honing their material to appeal to the largest swath of the populace.

“But that argument misses an important point, one I’m only just now realizing as I think about this. Comedians are not weakened by this limitation, this need to create within a box. It is, in fact, our greatest asset, because it forces us to communicate our ideas with people who might not otherwise entertain such thoughts. This is our advantage over avant-garde performance artists, or fringe theater, or the protest singer touring the Unitarian Church basement circuit. The problem with deeply controversial art is that it never gets outside its own bubble.”

Fradl’s comedic appeal is one that is fast and intelligent while still being accessible to virtually every audience. It’s a hard course to chart, but one that Fradl has navigated through many times over. While Fradl has no problem with the the comedic form being used as simple, straightforward entertainment, it is just not the type of comedy that he is striving for. While mainstream comedy definitely has its place within the pantheon of comic legends, some of the clubs across the nation actually contribute to the dilution of the color of comedy, sometimes to the point where it becomes translucent. Clubs whose main audiences are drawn from a rather large, arbitrary swath of folks who may just be looking for some mild entertainment in between dinner and dancing at the club, people who may or may not even care about the actually artistic nature of comedy.

Over the course of years, I was easily able to discern a marked difference in the tone of Fradl’s recent emails and I wondered if current world events had changed people’s acceptance of comedy and, if so, were these changes good or bad.

“I’ll tell you one thing that has changed very much for me in the last five months is that my bit of cynicism about comedy has evaporated. In all the years of doing comedy, I’ve never seen people so appreciative and receptive to comedy.” Fradl went on to say, “Not to sound trite, but there’s this almost tangible need for relief. People have always come up after a show and told me they had a great time or they thought I was funny, but lately it’s been more about them expressing how much they needed to have this good time and how grateful they are to hear something that connects with them.”

On a parting note, Fradl imparted an insight into the misconception that plagues those of us that don’t live in one of the magical meccas of entertainment.

“A quick clarification of terms – when I’m talking about comedy here, I’m not talking about the stand up that happens at some experimental theater in Los Angeles or in a basement open mic in New York City.  I’m talking about the comedy that takes place in strip mall clubs and bar one-niters (Comedy Thursday Night!  Mechanical Bull Friday Night!) in the artistically unappreciated part of the country, which is to say most of it. A comic I worked with last week in Cleveland said ‘So, what do people do here in Cleveland?  I grew up in NYC and live in LA, I always figured everything in between was Kansas.’   Nice of him to bestow upon us his august insights.”

You can check out some of Fradl’s clips and commentaries on his website, www.markcomedy.com or follow his schedule to see when he will next be appearing at one of the many venues in around the country.

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