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Student Life

Sort of a funny story

Magic happens when women tell their stories and break down stereotypes

“I knew I wanted to create a show, but I didn’t feel I had the right to.” This is what my friend Kate Lindner told me as she explained the inception of Infemous, a monthly variety show she now produces and hosts at the Montreal Improv theatre.

Despite being active in Montreal’s comedy scene, Lindner, a Concordia creative writing student and emerging comedienne, was initially worried she didn’t have the experience needed to justify producing her own show. But, with the support and encouragement of other women in comedy, Lindner created Infemous, an hour-long show featuring improv, monologues and sketch comedy performed exclusively by women and non-binary performers.

When Lindner offered me the opportunity to perform as a guest monologist in the second Infemous show, I had plenty of questions—the first of which being: what, exactly, is a monologist?

As it turns out, a monologist is a storyteller, which on paper sounds like a pretty fitting match for me, considering I’m a creative writing student. Unlike my written work, though, the challenge and excitement of monology stems from the fact that it’s dynamic and live, with no opportunity for revision after the fact. The idea is to share, in front of a live audience, two five-minute monologues related to femininity in some way. The monologues are intended to be entertaining, funny, memorable, but most importantly, true.

It would be my first time on a stage since my high school theatre nerd days, and even then, I was used to reading lines other people had written. While my creative writing education focuses primarily on fictional worlds and characters, and my work with The Concordian requires airtight, fact-checked truth, my role in Infemous would be about being myself and telling my own stories. I was worried I would be met with blank, unresponsive stares; that I would somehow mess up at being me. I was scared that maybe I didn’t have any stories worth telling.

Obviously, being afraid to stand in front of a live audience isn’t a particularly unique anxiety, but it is a big part of why Lindner decided to create Infemous. We still live in a world where women and non-binary people are left wondering if there’s room for their stories and abilities. Infemous offers a space where our voices are both welcomed and celebrated. It’s not a place for shock-value offensiveness or competition between performers—it’s a place to break stereotypes and explore narratives that might still feel foreign on most stages. During the first two Infemous shows, performers cracked jokes about everything from used tampons to female masturbation, and the audience laughed along each time.

Despite my anxieties, the night was a blast. The entire cast met before the show to play improv games, decorate signs with glittery paint and let a fancy new app guide us through breathing and mindfulness exercises. The audience was receptive and gracious to my stories about public humiliation and baby-sitting gigs from hell, and every step of the way I felt comfortable and validated.

The other performers were wildly hilarious, but I wouldn’t have expected anything less from them. It was an amazing night, but not a night that could have existed without women creating these spaces, telling their stories and jokes, and inviting other women and non-binary folks to share theirs as well.

Ultimately, I couldn’t have asked for a better group to share my stories with, or a better cast of women to share the stage with.

If you’re interested in checking out Infemous, the next show will take place on March 24 at 8 p.m. at the Montreal Improv theatre.

Feature photo by Lauren Pinsler

 

Categories
Student Life

Attending my first feminist comedy event

Belly laughs and feminism came together at Concordia’s cozy and intimate Café X on Friday, March 31 for a night of feminist stand-up comedy.

The space was beautiful, with twinkly blue lights, potted plants and comfortable couches—as an artistic person, I felt at home, surrounded by other creative and beautiful women.

I sat down with Emily Karcz before the event to talk about her experience organizing the night of comedy. She said one of the challenges in setting up such an event is social media promotion—making sure people hear about it, and that they actually show up.

Café X is entirely student-run and open to collaboration with other people, organizations and groups for special events or exhibitions. It offers an alternative space for emerging artists.

The night started with a casual ice-breaker game where volunteers were invited up to the microphones to “verbally vomit” out any words that popped into their minds. This game made for some deep stories about hair colour, heavy drugs and annoying cats. I volunteered to participate and had a lot of difficulty forming a story with random words. This made me realize how difficult it is to build a chronological plotline on the spot. I could see how this game would help creative individuals build on their vocabulary.

Two hilarious women performed interesting comedic monologues. Menstruation, awkward first dates, ways of saving money on tampons… no topic was off-limits.

“I think feminist comedy is still something that people have to understand. Everyone who will present tonight will probably have a different view on feminism,” said Karcz. “There’s a healthy way to cope with things that are going on. Women are hilarious—I have great conversations with my girlfriends. People in oppressed positions often experience a lot and they rip on that,” she added.

“Yeah, that was my first time doing comedy. I felt great, definitely a very welcoming atmosphere,” said Emily Estelle Belanger, one of the stand-up comedians.

“Everyone is super supportive, no hecklers for sure. I spent the last week making all my friends listen to it. My speech is typed up in a draft email to myself. I would love to do more of these things in the future if the opportunities were there,” said Belanger.

Comedy helps women laugh about their stressful experiences and transform hardships into something positive and bright. I am incredibly happy I went to this event because it made me feel empowered as a woman and ready to take on the world without fear. I appreciate my female friends even more now and feel so thankful for their constant love and support.

Categories
Opinions

Where does comedy stand when it comes to racial jokes?

An examination of comedy in today’s society where political correctness must always be observed

Comedian George Lopez came under fire for a joke he told at one of his shows on Feb. 4. During a segment, he joked that “there are only two rules in a Latino family: don’t date black people, and don’t park in front of the house.”

Photo by Thom Bell

In response, a heckler stood up, gave Lopez the middle finger and was subsequently kicked out of the venue. While the woman was being escorted out of the building, Lopez called her a “b*tch” and remarked that “four seats just opened up.”

Taken out of context, Lopez’s comments to the heckler may seem harsh—many people were upset. Most of the outrage, however, has been directed at the joke itself, which many claim is racist. Others have criticized the comedian for his overly mean-spirited and “sexist” remarks to the woman.

The thing is, these were not statements. They were jokes. They were funny jokes too, if you dig beneath the surface. Calling the joke “insensitive” just because he identifies a race in his joke, and ignoring what he means is sensationalizing his intent. I don’t know all the details and intricacies of the Latino community, but if you decipher the joke, it’s obvious Lopez is poking fun at the Latino community and how close-minded some Latinos are when it comes to interracial dating. He goes on to emphasize how ridiculous this is by comparing it to something as trivial as parking in front of the house. This joke works in all the ways a good joke should, and most of the crowd reacted accordingly.

Removing these jokes from their context and slapping them on a headline takes away all the built-up irony and energy from the show. This isn’t the first time a comedy show has been bombarded with such misunderstanding. Every few months, a different comedian is discussed on Good Morning America and, every time, they miss the point completely. In the case of Lopez, as is the case for many situations like his, you can hear the crowd laughing in the video.

Conversations that follow incidents like this usually bring up two questions: who decides what is funny, and what was the comedian’s intention? Comedians are quick to respond because only they can decide what their intentions were with regards to the jokes they told. Deciding who determines whether a joke is offensive—the audience or the comedian—has been an ongoing issue for as long as comedy has been around.

The notion that comedians are responsible for the reactions of others goes against the model of the genre. It’s impossible to predict how an audience member or listener will interpret or react to a joke, and in every case, someone is bound to be offended.

“It’s a very childish era,” comedian Bill Burr noted on his podcast in July 2013. “If I did a joke about chopping a guy’s hand off, you’re telling me that there are people in the crowd who, when they hear that joke, are going to head off and do it?”

Often, comedians will push the limits of what is “acceptable,” just to circumvent expectations. The comedian’s role is to observe and reflect on everyday situations, and to twist them or reveal their absurdities in a comedic and entertaining way. Comedy as an art form exposes the underlying thoughts of a society. To look back on the material of past comedians is to reflect on human history.

Of course, there are times when comedians’ jokes fall flat, but even in those cases, the intention of the comedian trumps the interpretation of the audience. If a joke doesn’t get a laugh, that doesn’t mean it’s suddenly not a joke, but that the comedian needs new material.

Comedy at its finest—the George Carlins, the Jerry Seinfelds, the Louis CKs—presents society without any makeup. Great jokes will always target and comment on society’s biggest issues. Even comedy at its dumbest, at its raunchiest, is a laugh. Comedy is an escape from the daily grind of life, and to confuse that escape with reality is simply ridiculous. When the irony is removed from the situation, the presentation, the delivery, and the comedian, all you are left with is a statement. Statements can be offensive, hurtful, racist, sexist. Jokes aren’t immune to this, but to hold them to the same standard is laughable.

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Arts

Concordia grad joins Second City’s holiday show

Aimee Ambroziak joins the famous Second City Touring Company in Eat, Buy, Repeat

As of Monday, Nov. 21, Concordia theatre grad Aimee Ambroziak will be joining the ranks of hilarious female comics. Ambroziak will be a part of the Second City Touring Company’s new holiday show, Eat, Buy, Repeat: The Second City’s Guide to the Holidays.

The Second City opened in 1959 and has since become a world-renowned comedy club, theatre and improvisation school. Its notable alumni include Tina Fey, Catherine O’Hara and Bill Murray, all of whom Ambroziak said are her heroes.

“While theatre is my first love, I started thinking about who my heroes are, and I realized that all of them had something to [do] with improv at Second City,” she said.

Ambroziak grew up in Hudson, Que. and was a member of the Hudson Village Players theatre group, with whom she performed with throughout her teenage years. After graduating from Concordia in 2007 with a BA in theatre performance, Ambroziak immediately found work with Geordie Productions. For a year, she toured Eastern Ontario elementary and high schools, performing various children’s theatre plays, including a Robert Munsch adaptation.

After attending a Level A improvisation class—a weekend-long, entry-level intensive course—at the Second City in Chicago, Ambroziak auditioned for the Second City in 2013. For the past three years, Ambroziak has been a part of the Second City’s Boat Company, performing on Norwegian Cruise Lines’ Pearl and Epic ships, as well as the Second City’s Family Company, which performs children’s shows. She is now making her debut with the Second City’s touring group in Eat, Buy, Repeat: The Second City’s Guide to the Holidays.

Ambroziak said the show draws inspiration from world events, as well as themes like consumption. The show was created through various improvisation sketches performed in front of a live audience.

“We got to see what worked and what didn’t,” she said. The show includes original songs and some Second City favourite performances from past holiday shows. Because the show draws inspiration from world events, some of the sketches have evolved to fit the changing news, particularly after the U.S. election on Nov. 8. “There is actually one scene where, as I was doing, I thought ‘I wonder if this will change when Hillary wins,’” Ambroziak said. “Evidently, it didn’t.”

The show is now all planned out, excluding a few scenes that require audience interaction. Ambroziak said if there is time after a performance, the troupe will perform a completely improvised third act. As this is a comedy show, Ambroziak wants the audience to enjoy themselves and feel refreshed. “I want them to leave the theatre having laughed a lot,” she said “Ideally, I hope they feel like it is something they haven’t seen before.”

Eat, Buy, Repeat: The Second City’s Guide to the Holidays runs from November 24, 2016 to January 5, 2017 at the Second City Mainstage Theatre in Toronto. Tickets start at $25 and can be purchased online at secondcity.com.

Categories
Arts

Feminist comedians take over Reggie’s

Funny women took to the stage Friday night  to talk life, love and get some laughs

Concordia students crowded into Reggie’s as the second annual Feminist Stand-Up Comedy Night kicked off on Sept. 16. Put on by the Centre for Gender Advocacy, the evening’s lineup of comedians featured some newbies as well as a few veterans. The event began with an open mic session and was followed by sets from two renowned feminist comedians, Kalyani Pandya and Ify Chiwetelu.

The packed event kicked off with local comedian Nicole, who is relatively new to the comedy circuit. Last year’s Feminist Stand-Up Comedy Night was one of her first forays into the stand-up world. Originally from Saskatchewan, she started off by welcoming everyone to group therapy, and followed up with some poignant jokes about the cost of therapy and women’s haircuts. “When I do my finances every month, I’m like okay, do I want to be a functioning member of society or do I want to look good,” she said amidst applause. “We can all tell by my hair which one I chose this month.”

Right before the headlining act, Pandya took the stage and treated everyone to her hilarious stand-up, which focused on the fact she is queer and South Asian. She kept the room laughing during her entire set with jokes about her parents and their trip back to India. However, while she impersonated her parents for the skit, she also made it clear that cultural appropriation would not be tolerated.  “Now when I say these stories, I am going to use [my parents] accents, because it is their voices and I couldn’t hear it any other way,” she said. “But it is not okay for you to go and make those accents unless you are related to them or know them.” Branded “Ottawa’s funniest dyke” by Ottawa Xtra!, Pandya was part of the CBC’s Human Library series. She has performed at various venues across Canada, including Yuk Yuk’s, the Palais des congrés, and the Vancouver Queer International Film Festival.

Following Pandya was the night’s headliner, Toronto-based comedian Ify Chiwetelu. Winner of the 2015 Bad Dog Theatre Breakout Performer award, she joked about growing up black in Calgary and modern-day dating and using Tinder. Walking back and forth across the stage, she described what it was like to use the popular hook-up app after a weird or uncomfortable interaction: “You delete the app for like an hour, then look beside you like, oh my bed’s still empty, time to re-download that shit.” Featuring jokes about boobs, boys and life with parents who had escaped a civil war in Nigeria, Chiwetelu provided a set that was also relevant to all kids who grew up in Canadian cities and loved rap music way too much.

This event was part of the Centre for Gender Advocacy’s annual fall event series, Another Word for Gender: An Intro to Feminist Organizing and Action. The fall series runs until Oct. 4. The next event, an ask-and-answer with multi-disciplinary artists Vivek Shraya and Chase Joynt, will take place on Sept. 22.

For a full schedule of the events check out the fall events series page on Facebook.

Categories
Arts

There’s something funny going on…

The Blue Dog Motel’s indie comedy show is a hot way to spend the winter nights

As students, we lead a grim life. We scramble desperately from one assignment deadline to the next, all while trying to find the time to fit in some groceries (if money permits) and a shower (if time permits). Couple this with the reality of our mounting debt and rumors of a bleak job market, life as a student can be crushing.

A desire to lighten my burden of academic despair was enough to propel me from home on a frigid Monday night to the 144th edition of “There’s Something Funny Going On” (TSFGO) at The Blue Dog Motel.

TSFGO is one of the longest-running independent comedy shows in the city. Local comedian Emma Wilkie and comedy production wiz Rashta Kruger have been producing the show for nearly three years. In this time they have built an excellent reputation among audiences and performers.

It’s easy to miss The Blue Dog Motel if you’re not looking for it. The front lights are always dimmed, so it never looks quite open. A barber’s chair sits proudly in the display window at the front of the bar, so you could in theory get a haircut (but probably not).

The venue is perfectly suited to a comedy show. The room is dark and narrow with a small elevated stage nestled in the back. Comedians hover around the bar, muttering to themselves and scribbling on napkins.

Paul Baluyot hosted this edition and kept things light between acts with quips about his neuroses and the ominous looking restroom. Of note were the three female performers on the show’s lineup—representing 25 per cent of all the acts. Such a high ratio of female comedians is fairly unusual—perhaps due in part to the pervasive myth that women aren’t funny.

TFSGO co-producer Rashta has a succinct response when presented with this common attitude: “Bullshit.” She goes on to rhyme off a long list of hilarious women, both local and celebrity.

Rashta’s secret to nearly three years of success is simple: attention to detail. Complimentary bowls of candy and pretzels dot the venue. Rather than charging a cover, a donation bucket is passed around toward the end of the show to pay the headliner and the host. There is no drink minimum (as is often so popular in comedy clubs), but the drinks are cheap so it’s too enticing not to partake.

The shows regularly feature comics working and touring professional clubs plus some well-practiced amateurs. But this certainly isn’t an open-mic—so why keep it cheap? “We know our audience and they’re often on a budget,” Rashta says.

I asked her, not a performer herself, what draws her to comedy: “There’s something healing about comedy,” she explained. “It keeps you young.” Indeed, research from the Journal of Personality from Dr. Lisa Feldman Barrett’s group at Northeastern University supports the notion that positive emotions are good for your health.

Perhaps the best part of TSFGO is the feeling of community. This show happened to be local comedian Nour Hadidi’s final performance in Montreal before her big move to Toronto. The heartfelt and tearful goodbye that ended her set made it clear that this is a place where both the performers and the audience feel the love.

Check out TSFGO every Monday night starting at 9 p.m. at The Blue Dog Motel on Saint-Laurent.

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Arts

Try stand-up for shits and giggles

A rising local Concordian gives you all the ha-ha’s and how-to’s of breaking into the local scene

It’s on every bucket list. It terrifies even professionals in the industry. It’s also something that you should do right now. There are tons of great reasons to get involved in the world of stand-up. It’s cheap entertainment (so much better than spending $20 to see Taken 5 in IMAX 3D. Live comedy shows are often cheap, even free, and are always presented in 3D (no glasses required). It’s a great way to broaden your social circle, hone your public speaking skills and make your resume pop in an eye-catching way. It’s also the perfect way to vent daily frustrations, shine light on hypocrisy or bring attention to an issue close to your heart. But how can you transition to the live stage from watching endless YouTube clips, Netflix specials, and instigating gales of laughter among friends? Here are 10 essential tips.

  1. Love comedy. Stand-up is not for the faint-hearted. It’s one of the only activities in which you have to stumble through your first awkward experiences with everyone watching. Love will keep you coming back.
  2. Be kind. Montreal has a tight-knit comedy scene. Once you get involved, people get to know you fast. Don’t trash talk, don’t be late, don’t be a no-show, and do not be a diva. I’ve been guilty of all of these offences, because you know, well … life. My point is just try not to be a butthole.
  3. Be considerate. Be a good audience member. Don’t whisper (I can hear you) and don’t sit with your face buried in your phone (I can see you).
  4. Stick around. Perhaps the biggest faux-pas of all is to do your set and leave immediately after. Not only is it rude to the other performers, but watching others is an excellent learning experience. Make mental notes of their mistakes so you’re less likely to make the same ones. Analyze their material, their character, their delivery and their habits for what works. Most importantly, schmoozing afterwards can result in valuable connections, or even just helpful feedback.
  5. Don’t steal. I misspoke earlier when I said leaving after your set was the biggest faux-pas (but backspace is for chumps). Stealing material is the biggest faux-pas, period. Much like plagiarism can get you kicked out of academia, stealing material can get you kicked out of comedy. Dane Cook, Bill Cosby and Denis Leary are famous names accused of thievery. Yes, their careers are currently fine (except Cosby—but that ship’s sinking for other reasons). However, the accusations of joke theft still plague these performers even decades after the alleged incidents.
  6. Be sincere. Everyone has heard that tragedy + time = comedy. True, but it has to be your tragedy and your time. Every joke has a victim. The question you have to ask yourself as a performer and writer is: does the victim of this joke deserve to be laughed at? Perhaps this is the origin of the ever popular self-deprecating joke. If you’re the butt of the joke, you know that you did something stupid and that you deserve to be laughed at for it. Conversely, this is likely why so many “edgy” jokes fall flat—the victim of the joke does not deserve laughter. This isn’t to say that you can’t use comedy to talk about serious topics, à la Maria Bamford, but it’s best done from a place of sincerity and understanding. For example, I don’t typically find an 18-year-old dude talking about abortions hilarious. However, I do find DeAnne Smith talking about them hilarious.
  7. Believe in yourself. If you truly believe something is funny, keep trying it in different ways. Never, ever, trust the reaction of a few people to a new joke. There is almost no way to know if it works until you get up on stage and tell it. Many times I’ve told my comedy-loving partner a new joke and received nothing but a blank stare in return, only to have the same joke greeted by laughter when delivered from onstage.
  8. Be yourself. Don’t try to be something you’re not. Finding your voice in comedy is a long process. I’m two years in and I’m only just beginning to find my style. My suggestion is to try on a bunch and see what works. Local comedian Bruno Ly’s subdued, smooth style captivates audiences as effectively as Montrealer Mike Patterson’s manic personality—but neither would be as effective if they tried to emulate the other’s style.
  9. You’re going to bomb. A lot. Deal. There’s no way around this one. It’s going to happen. A lot. After bombing hard one night, I went to recent Just for Laughs alumnus Morgan O’Shea for some advice. “Morgan, was it a crappy crowd tonight, or was it me?” Without hesitating, Morgan smirked and said, “Nah, it’s you. It’s never them. It’s always you.” The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon has a great series of segments called “The Worst I Ever Bombed” available on YouTube. These segments will bring you comfort.
  10. Be very suspicious of anyone giving you tips. This is perhaps the most useful piece of advice I’ve ever received. Montreal comedy’s mustachio-d big brother Peter Radomski gave me this invaluable insight after watching one of my first sets.

Have I convinced you to give stand-up comedy a try? Super. Here are some places I recommend for your first time. Which one is the best? Check out a few before signing up and see which you fancy.

  • Flop or fly: hit up these stand-up venues to get some laughs or premier your own comedic style.
  • Danger Dulgar, every second Sunday at 8 p.m. @ Bar Bifteck, 3702 St-Laurent Blvd. Contact: dangerdulgarcomedy@gmail.com.
  • Macsimum Comedy, Sundays at 10 p.m. @ McLean’s Pub, 1210 Peel St. Contact: sign up for a spot at the bar beginning at 8 p.m.
  • Grinders Comedy Lab, Tuesdays at 8 p.m. @ Theatre Ste. Catherine, 264 Ste-Catherine St. E. Contact: Show up early to enter for a lotto spot.
  • Newbie Tuesdays, Tuesdays at 8 p.m. @ The Comedy Nest, Third Floor of the AMC Forum. Contact: openmic@comedynest.com.
  • Shut Up and Laugh! Wednesdays at 8:45 p.m. @ Burritoville, 2055 Bishop St. Contact: shutupandlaughcontact@gmail.com.
Categories
Arts

Come find anything and everything at Dépflies’ dépanneur

CBC’s ComedyCoup is on a mission to find your next favourite Canadian comedy show
by Frederic T. Muckle & Chris Aitkens

From the ‘90s sitcoms like Seinfeld and Friends to the 2000s kittens and babies web-video trend, comedy seems to need to reinvent itself every now and then to keep the demanding crowds laughing. ComedyCoup, an ongoing CBC project, is currently looking for a new Canadian comedy show that will make the country’s audiences chuckle in a half-hour special for CBC prime time, from sea to sea.

Dépflies, a live performance turned into a television show, takes a look at a heterogeneous crowd gathering in a Saint-Henri dépanneur. The show is presently one of the public’s favourites, according to the votes on the ComedyCoup website and its spot in the top 15 projects of ComedyCoup. The Concordian spoke to Alain Mercieca, the writer of Dépflies, and Anton Golikov, one of the actor, to discuss the Montreal-based bilingual comedy project.

The Concordian (C): How did you come up with the concept for Dépflies?

Alain Mercieca (AM): Dépflies was concocted in the dark winter of 2011 while I was living in Saint-Henri and fell in love with the neighbourhood, and felt the burning desire to write a new comedy that brought community, subculture, bilingualism and punk rock insanity to life on stage.  Déps (dépanneurs) are the perfect platform for anything to happen, so it was really fun to write about.

C: How would you describe your group’s general philosophy in relation to entertainment and the world surrounding it?

AM: We are a very passionate group.  We love making art that is honest, free and void of all pretentiousness.  It’s hard to pin us down because we vary so much in tastes, but we definitely love the idea of bringing art and comedy together—not going just for the joke, but grabbing for the heartstrings also. the new generation in Canada needs something to love other than YouTube and iPhones.

C: Could you describe the team behind the camera?

Anton Golikov (AG): Some of the finest people in an ever-expanding family. A growing beast of super-talented graphic designers, cinematographers and filmmakers. The professionalism that attached itself to the project is matched only by the talent of the underground cast and artists behind the live show. Robert Quinn, PierreLuc Boucher, Danny Belair are the ones making it so darn beautiful.

C: Why did you decide to do a bilingual show instead of using an easier unilingual formula?

AM: To document the reality of Montreal.  Giving an honest “slice of life” instead of trying to do something for American audiences, or pandering to one side.  There are no sides in the great tumult of life, at a deep philosophical level.  Also, funnily enough, almost everyone involved is in a bilingual relationship.  That’s just a coincidence, and fate!

C: Even if Canada recognizes two official languages, the fact is that the majority of Canada’s population is not bilingual. Figures from the 2011 Statistics Canada Census show that about 18 per cent of the population actually speaks both French and English.

Do you think that this bilingual aspect could affect the public’s perception of Dépflies in a negative or positive way? And how so?

Dépflies is about the eventful moments taking place in an anonymous Montreal dépanneur in the Saint-Henri neighbourhood – Dépflies is currently one of the final 15 projects retained on ComedyCoup

AM: Dépflies, the live show, has worked for people who speak only English, only French and people who speak neither.  We try to build characters that resonate at a deep level, beyond language.  And for us, language is something to love, to be open about, no matter what level you are at.  My five-year-old son loves Dépflies and he doesn’t get any of the references.  For some, it may be challenging, I realize, but to them I say: give it a chance.  The Québécois accent, just like the hoser B.C. punk accent, is beautiful and adds to the colour of this country and the world.  Let’s embrace them and show the world how they live and breathe together in places like Montreal.

C: Your character hasn’t been fully revealed yet. What kind of character has been written for you? Will they be English or Bilingual?

AG: My character’s a bilingual regular. Typical of St-Henri, he is also a bit “street” and trashy. Denizen of the trailer-park side of the hood. Throughout the series, I’ve played a punk prophet who got his leg chopped off by a train near the Fatal lofts, a treasure hoarding priest, a hardline anglo from the west island, a militant SPVM commando bike cop, a handsome media man, the custodian of Quebec’s national archives, and a Russian in a tracksuit (a bit of method acting on that last one.)

C: How does Dépflies relate to Montreal and its distinct cultural personality?

AM: Well, as a Montreal-ophile, I love every niche culture in this city, and am totally obsessed with all of them.  I once said “every city is a country” and Montreal is exactly that. Every week I learn about a new subculture, a new loft to go to, a new character in the streets, a new story of great tragedy, or a new neighbourhood full of folkloric charm.  Dépflies uses a Montreal staple, the dépanneur, as the springboard into the personality of the great city, exploring them with an honest and loving touch.

CBC’s ComedyCoup is still running and will continue until a project gets financed with $500,000 to create a half-hour special for CBC prime time. The remaining comedy projects will participate in the coming weeks’ challenges to gather votes and boost social media presence. As described on the website, ComedyCoup is meant to accelerate the discovery, creation and promotion of new talent and projects.

This Q&A is the result of two separate interviews and has been edited for purposes of length and clarity.

For more information on ComedyCoup and Dépflies, visit comedycoup.cbc.ca.

Categories
Arts

Web-series about a struggling band proves hilarious

They don’t have much talent, good ideas or even a band name, but that’s what makes them so funny

“The music, man. It’s time to get serious about the music.” So starts The High Note, a not-so-serious new web-series that centers on five young Montrealers who decide to unite their efforts and form a band. Most of their time together is spent drinking and trying to determine a band name, going through suggestions such as Grass Grass, or Reverse Centaur, which comes up three times. Their talent is limited, ideas preposterous and attitude far from winning, but that’s what makes them entertaining to watch. Characters who are unaware that they’re losers are an eternal feeding ground for comedy writers.

The High Note is a web-series about a lovable yet not so talented group of friends trying to make it as a band, and failing at it.

There’s Neil, an ex-ice skater whose only shot at fame was starring in a production of Barbie on Ice: The Magic of Pegasus; Sage, a wannabe who can’t settle on a style, yet claims to be a trendsetter; Dani, an enthusiastic outsider who doesn’t have much to contribute besides epileptic dance moves; and Mel, who joined the group looking for a release for anger, but doesn’t seem to have any. Other characters will be introduced in the course of the six-episode series, most certainly as awkward or obnoxious as the rest.

The people we see are believable, because the actors believe in their characters. When we do hear their music, what’s surprising is how tolerable it actually is. The High Note could have been a slapstick comedy routine about people who are just plain bad at what they do, but it is more nuanced. It doesn’t go for easy laughs, settling for a deadpan kind of humour and atmosphere inspired by TV series such as The Office.

It could also fit in the mockumentary category, showing naturalistic scenes of dialogue intermixed with interviews of main characters. Much of it feels spontaneous, unrehearsed, but the series was scripted and shot in several takes. The tone, sound effects and editing style are often dissonant, as they should be, because this is a story of things not working out and it must be felt throughout.

This is a first web-series for director Holly Brace-Lavoie and producer Kelly Walker, who have a background in theatre. It was shot over the summer with a voluntary cast and crew, and is fully self-financed. Asked how such a show would fare commercially, Brace-Lavoie and Walker burst out laughing. “We’re not expecting to break even. This is purely for fun.” In fact, all involved seemed to have had a great time working on the project, which showcases a lively dynamic. The High Note has a charming and fun-loving quality that’s hard to resist.

Unsurprisingly, the show is also semi-autobiographical, and while the whole thing is slightly over-the-top, you may recognize yourself or others in it. Brace-Lavoie suggests that the series was made as a therapy of sorts. It never hurts to poke fun at yourself, like when you take a pause in the middle of a sentence and start laughing because you realize you’re not making any sense.

Episode 1 of The High Note web-series launches online on Nov. 5, on thehighnoteseries.com.

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Arts

Aamer Rahman keeps them rolling in the aisles

The Truth Hurts proved a highly entertaining and political night of comedy

If you enjoy the rawness and unapologetic nature of political comedy, then Aamer Rahman’s free comedy show The Truth Hurts is the stand-up for you.

Terrorism and racism are touchy subjects, and joking about them can spark heated argument among people.

Surprisingly, the audience at the comedy show was ecstatic, and quite pleased, to hear a man of Bangladeshi origin, who spent most of his life in Australia, shining the spotlight on racist white people and cracking jokes about some of the most controversial topics. He seems to be a spinoff of Russell Peters in that respect.

“Tonight I will be making jokes about terrorism, but I’m completely opposed to it,” Rahman clarified.

While his subject matter may be risque, it is clear that Rahman’s intentions are aimed at raising awareness and poking fun at racial prejudices.

For instance, the infamous Boston Marathon bombing that occurred last spring was soon to be transformed into comic relief.

“I didn’t care how many people died, I didn’t care how many people got injured,” Rahman said. “I had one thought in my mind the entire time: whoever finds out who did this, please be white!”

All jokes aside, there is certainly more to Rahman’s comedy than just a series of witty jokes and laughter. Rahman educated his viewers on the gravity of current social-political issues in the Middle East and in Australia.

“The Australian government recently changed the law to make it easier to publish [a] hate speech,” he said.

Naturally, most audience members shook their heads in disbelief. Some even shouted hate at the prime minister of Australia, Tony Abbott.

Rahman soon lightened the mood by recounting a moment when he and his cousin from Bangladesh went to a heavy metal concert.

“These people looked like Orcs from Lord of the Rings,” he said.

He added that they saw a woman in a black sleeveless dress with a tattoo of a portrait of Adolf Hitler on her arm. “ I felt at that moment time stopped and that tattoo of Adolf Hitler locked eyes with me and said ‘have a nice night’.”

This was followed by loud laughter and a standing ovation.

Rahman’s career in comedy began by accident. “My friend Nazeem started doing comedy at an open mic competition and I just copied him,” he said.

He always took interest in political protests as a law student at Monash University, and the comedy prompted him to express these issues to a larger audience.

“I used to be involved in a lot of different types of activism so when I started doing comedy I just started talking about those things.”

Rahman is currently finishing up his North American tour of The Truth Hurts and will be doing another one next year.

For more information, you can follow him on Facebook and Twitter @aamer_rahman.

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Arts

Retro humour, unscripted laugh and travelling bards

Theatre Sainte-Catherine’s monthly Sketch night here to amuse and entertain you

The Theatre Sainte-Catherine (TSC) is small. For somebody who’s never seen it, it’s a bottleneck connecting a stage to a bar with a dozen or so tables. From its size and minimal sets, one would be justified in enquiring how it survives, despite a busy weekly schedule of improv, laughs, and stage drama. Such places are not supposed to be small, I tell myself. They are supposed to be visited by the masses and have huge stages. Nor had I heard of the performers before. Added to my often precariously subjective humour, seldom finding toilet or sexual humour — comedic staples, both of them — amusing, I could see things going south very soon.

Things were anything but. I’m quickly reminded each time I go there that the minimal space is made for small gatherings. It magnifies the intimacy of the atmosphere. Laughter doesn’t disappear or get drowned out, but comes loud and clear and individual to the person emitting it, and you feel close enough even in the furthest back rows to be included in a skit.

That night was the beginning of TSC’s first ever monthly sketch night, which I presume is a mixture of established talent and stage volunteers (or travelling bards) with unshakeable confidence in their craft.

Comics Daniel Carin and Chris Sandiford’s beginning fare of talk show mockery was good enough to be the main meal. The two have real chemistry with each other, and I found myself wondering if they were besties in real life. Bonus points for their routine’s  inclusion of two things close to my heart: book reviews and science fiction humour, which are about as far as you can get from penis jokes and fart humour.

TSC’s house sketch team caused much laughter with creative skits featuring gossipy airhead news reporter Justine (whose name is a play on (this) “just in”), a fierce MIC battle over whose mothers were nicer, and a healthy dose of babies getting shot with handguns, amongst other things. The lads were magnificent in their enthusiasm and ability, the women more so (Katie Leggitt’s accents and facial expressions were really impressive).

It was at this moment, during a mercifully placed intermission, that a scheduling conflict caused an early departure. But the show did have real lasting effects: I find myself prowling about the internet for Carin & Sandiford’s videos late at night and waiting for the right situation to pawn off residual jokes as my own.

There were, of course, a few hiccups. Host Brad Armstrong’s uncomfortable focus on a front-row audience member was a bit awkward, even the best skits can sometimes be excessive in length, and certain subject matter was of a questionable nature (ISIS beheadings — a bit too soon?).

Yet the enthusiasm and camaraderie of the performers shines through, and their sharp wits and material grab you and demand you give them proper respect. Small as it is, you feel like you’ve stumbled upon a community of performers who did their thing before you’d come by, and would persist at it long after you left. The most genuine moments came when the composure of the cast members cracked under each other’s witty repartee and you saw authentic, unscripted laughs. They might not be getting paid a lot for what they do, and they may not get huge crowds, but they’re having a hell of a lot of fun. The small nook in the wall that is the Theatre Sainte-Catherine is doing just fine, and will continue to do so.

For more information about Theatre Sainte-Catherine events, visit theatresaintecatherine.com.

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Arts

The Insanely unpredictable Comedy

It was a humid and hot Tuesday night, in a freshly renovated theater on this highly interesting street that is Sainte-Catherine. In this said old-looking building, decorated with a welcoming horse head’s sculpture, a grandma’s lamp and giant portraits of a few blues legends, a gang of somewhat eccentric personas are conversing and obviously happy to be reunited. It is because they are all here, in this still paint smelling hall, for the beginning of Grinders Comedy Lab’s second season. For most of you that are not familiar with Grinders Comedy Lab, it is important to clear up something: it has nothing to do with the gentlemen location-based meeting application that some of you may know. Grinders is actually an open-mic night where comedians and artists of all acabits and occupations are invited to perform in front of an audience. It actually takes its name from a comedic web-series, simply called Grinders, involving by regular participants of the Comedy lab such as the two hosts Alain Mercieca and Stefen Petersen. It is not only a place to go for a enjoyable Tuesday night, but it’s also a chance for those eager to mount on stage to be, even just for a moment, who they really are. So for those of who would like to show off their latest homemade choreography, an awesome harmonica solo or simply tryout as a comic, Grinders Comedy Lab is a place where you will be accepted for the best and the worst.

Photo courtesy of

Still, even if the night is open for every kind of artists there is, those open-mic evenings are mainly occupied by comedy as the first night of the second season showed. The only exception to the rule was a talented musician who graced us with one of its compositions. During this said evening, the array of comedians on stage gave the audience reasons to laugh about pretty much nothing and everything; from Amish television shows to wearing someone else underwear, passing by time-travelling and the simple act of loving mayonnaise.

A strong sense of community is in the core and fabric of the Grinders Comedy Lab. Involving Mercieca, Petersen, the newly appointed host Jacob Greco and a lot of other performers, the Lab tries to bring a more Americanized version of the open-mic night by inviting comedians to try new things every night instead of simply putting the same performance they have been working on for a long time. It diverts from what is seen in Montreal most of the time. It also gives some sense of randomness to this kind of evening since both the audience and the performers will not know what will result of this said open-mic session. This is what an open-mic is really supposed to be about. Comedians need a stage and a public to really try out their work. As suggested by the actual name of the weekly event, a comedy club like the Grinders Comedy Lab is a place in which comedy is created. It’s true that sometimes creation means trying and failing. It also means that by attending those evenings, the audience is passively participating to this creation process. And in some rare instance, it also means that together, it is possible to craft wonderful moments of hilarity that can only be achieve in a confined, un-pretentious and peculiar environment such as The Grinders Comedy Lab.

The Grinders Comedy Club – Every Tuesday at 8:30p.m. – Sainte-Catherine Theater

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