I recently performed a benefit for a church parish. While the event was not in the church, which would be fraught with way too much context for the average lay person to handle, it was in their bingo hall. (Bingo, by the way, comes to us from the Spanish bingar, to shout out enthusiastically while gambling at a church-sponsored event. Yo bingo. Tu bingas. Estamos bingamos.)

Unfortunately, there was bible class the next morning in the bingo hall, and the stage was adorned with pandas for the students. Many, many pandas. Too many pandas to remove and replace later. Add your own pandemonium comment here.

Why pandas? I’m not sure about this one. I don’t recall too many pandas in the bible, but I do know that 99% of their diet is bamboo. Maybe the point is that having a diet of just one thing—be it the bible or just bamboo—is okay in the long run. Or eventually causes extinction. Whatever.

The Show Must Go On
One of the rules of show business is that the show must go on, and so it did. We couldn’t move the pandas, nor could we refocus the lights to another part of the stage, so we—the pandas and I—did the show together. Ebony and ivory, and me.

The telling of a story or joke you’ve delivered a thousand times before changes when you’re surrounded by cartoon pandas. I don’t understand the mechanics of why that is, but a happy Ling-Ling peering over your shoulder makes what you say less serious by a couple of notches. I can only imagine what the same material would’ve done had we performed in the church—probably a lot more solemn. Same words, same delivery, different context, different effect.

Address It and Move On
On paper, the venue looked fine, but in reality, in context, it offered some complications. When there’s an elephant in the room—or dozens of pandas—address the fact and move on. Each performer that night commented on the random context and the point became moot. The night went fine and no one shouted Bingo.

Epilogue
As we were leaving, a clean up crew began dismantling the pandas and ripping them from their perches. The event’s coordinator asked what they were doing, and they told us that there was a special event the very next morning and they needed to remove everything from the hall. Now pass the bamboo.

The more serious the presentation, the more important your know-how needs to be; even in the realm of stand-up comedy, believability is crucial. A clean-cut act in a sharp suit will have a harder time convincing a crowd of his upbringing in the ghetto than a performer with ripped up jeans.

Instead of just telling an audience to accept what you say, prove to them, with concrete examples, that you are an expert in the field you are discussing. This will show (rather than tell) your expertise in the particular subject, and relay some topical information to boot. You’ll impart some knowledge while earning their trust. Because more often than not, when someone has to describe their self—think of a “winning” sit-com star—it means they probably aren’t that thing at all. Sorry, Charlie. Sheen is only shiny on the surface, but expertise goes all the way through.

One of the foundations of writing applies here: show, don’t tell. Those are three of the strongest words in the business. Check out this example from Brian Malow, an expert in science-flavored comedy (and comedy-flavored science). This story shows that he understands the concept of the parsec, which demonstrates that he is, indeed, Earth’s premier science comedian. Enjoy.

prove your expertise

Prove early on in your presentation that you are an expert in your topic, and you’ll win the crowd’s respect and, just as important, their attention.

• go over your speech or presentation carefully
• find references that say you have specific knowledge in certain fields
• add examples that demonstrate you’re knowledgeable in those topics

Once again, it’s the simple task of showing instead of telling. And, yes, I realize it’s easier said than done.

last week’s trivia answer: the head of John the Baptist!

Comedy is ultimately about connecting to an audience, and sometimes nothing can unite like the truth. Whether it’s commiserating over a tragedy or laughing at an inside joke, the human experience is about sharing emotions with others, and honesty makes trusting that other person—and thereby sharing—that much easier. Truth allows everyone to participate equally. Those late-night junior high games of Truth or Dare sucked us in because we knew Becky Erlanson had to tell us the truth. (Or, of course, kiss Randy Steinmann on the mouth. Eww!)

George Bernard Shaw, the Irish playwright Nobel Prize winner, once told me: When a thing is funny, search it for a hidden truth. And, boy, was he right. Funny things resonate with people because we relate to things we recognize and we’re familiar with. That’s why themes for situation comedies and movies tend to be common truths we all can appreciate: falling in love, hating the boss, the awkwardness of growing up, dating space aliens, and so on.

What about exaggeration, hyperbole, and poetic license?

Good question. Um, let’s see . . .

Changing or inflating the truth for comic purposes is a powerful (and relatively easy) way to get laughs: the bigger the clown’s shoes, the more we giggle. Over-the-top obviousness tends to get more laughs than putting-the-B-in-subtle nuance.

But behind most exaggerations is a nugget of honesty, blown up not to be untrue, but to emphasize the truth within it. A mother-in-law might not be so fat that photons of light cannot escape her gravitational field, but she’s approaching that fat. The humor is based on truth, even if the laugh is based on exaggeration.

If nothing else, working a little honesty into your act or presentation will get you points just for being sincere. And sometimes nothing is funnier than the honest-to-goodness truth. Check out this painfully honest (and funny) clip; the laughs come from us knowing that what is being said has to be true.

exercises

If your act, speech, or presentation hits a fork in the road, try injecting a personal truth: an embarrassing anecdote, a trivial fact, a ho-hum statistic. The more real it is, the more real you’ll be in the eyes of the audience.

Practice saying “True story.” You can’t convince your audience you’re honest until you convince yourself. True story.

Comedy is drama that happens to be funny, and drama—any kind of story—requires conflict to keep the plot moving and the audience interested. No discord = no humor.

Just imagine: “Don’t take my wife . . . please.” It’s just not funny.

Things that make us laugh have two heads butting together, an obstacle, a lump in the batter, anything to derail your train of thought. It’s within that hiccup that we can find, and exaggerate, the potential for humor.

Consider what happens when you mix these ingredients: A tiny ship. Rough weather. A three-hour tour. (A three-hour tour.)

When the conflict arises (the weather started getting rough; the tiny ship was tossed), we empathize with the protagonists (the mate . . . the skipper . . . five passengers) and their struggle. We care, and that keeps us connected. Without conflict, we wouldn’t be drawn in.

Arthur Quiller-Couch, the famous author and literary critic, said there are seven basic plot conflicts. I replied, What was that? I didn’t hear you. And he said, There are seven basic conflicts, including Man versus Man, Man versus Himself, and Man versus God.

Check out this two-minute clip of Man versus Technology, a more recent addition to the list. There are a number of comic devices being used in this stand-up piece, but one of the main ones is the conflict between the protagonist and the demands of technology.

Use Conflict to Get More Laughs

Increase the conflict in your presentation and you’ll increase the laughs. The greater the opposition, the more potential for humor. Push the differences, incompatibilities, and disputes further apart.

Exercises

Check the “plot” of your joke, story, speech, or presentation. What is the conflict? Are there too many? The ancient Greeks said the conflict should be singular, but that was before multi-tasking was even a word. If there are too many, the audience may not be focussed enough to care about any of them.

Can you up the ante? Can you add fuel to the fire? What can you do to exaggerate the gulf between the two sides of the conflict?