Comedian Nick Carter performs at the Absolute Comedy Club on Preston Street in preparation for Great Canadian Laugh-off at the end of the month.
A bright light illuminates the face of a local comedian as he takes stabs at George W. Bush and tries out fart jokes in the musky basement of the Royal Oak on Laurier Avenue. He’s got blonde hair, a red sweater, and six minutes to shine.
It isn’t going so well.
His material elicits mostly silence from the 25 or so people in attendance. “I’ll have to work on these jokes a bit,” he murmurs into the microphone.
Trevor Thompson, a local comedian and organizer of tonight’s event, a bi-weekly showcase of amateur talent named the Sunday Gospel Comedy Revival, stands to the side with his arms crossed. Though he’s not laughing, he says he can certainly empathize with the blonde-haired performer’s predicament.
“Everyone bombs,” says Thompson, who’s set to perform later in the show.
“It’s the risk and reward of comedy. When it works, it’s euphoric, and when it doesn’t, you’re up there all alone.”
Over the next few weeks, the stakes for local comedians are set to climb even higher.
The Great Canadian Laugh-off, an annual competition of Canadian comedic talent hosted by Yuk Yuk’s Comedy Clubs holds its Ottawa final on Feb. 27.
Seven local comedians drawn from a series of qualifying rounds will duke it out for a chance to compete in the national championships in Toronto and a shot at $25,000 in prize money.
It’s a potential stab at the big time in an industry with precious few opportunities for success.
Back at the Royal Oak, Nick Carter takes the stage.
He’s got a mischievous grin on his face as he launches into a frenetic set that climaxes with a comparison between Jesus and a venom-spitting dragon.
The basement erupts in peels of laughter.
Both Thompson and Carter will be competing in qualifying rounds throughout February to earn a spot at the Ottawa final. Tonight is a dry run of sorts.
“Every comedian will tell you that comedy competitions are the dumbest thing in the world,” says Carter.
“But at the same time most comedians enter them and most of them want to win.”
If either comic qualifies, he will have six minutes of stage time at the Feb. 27 final to show a panel of three judges why his material, delivery, stage presence and audience response are better than the competition’s.
Howard Wagman, the manager of the Ottawa Yuk Yuk’s, says it’s really anyone’s guess who will come out on top.
“In six minutes any comedian can win over the judges,” he says.
As the final approaches, excitement over the competition has helped draw bigger crowds to Yuk Yuk’s each week, he says. It’s a sign of mounting support, he feels, for one of Canada’s most vibrant comedy scenes.
“For Ottawa’s relatively small size, it’s the best in the country,” he says, citing well known comedians such as Norm MacDonald and Jeremy Hotz who started their careers at Yuk Yuk’s amateur nights.
Thompson, who has organized and performed at amateur comedy shows in Ottawa for four years, has watched the capital’s comedy scene grow in spades.
When he first started, the only place newcomer comedians could perform was at the Yuk Yuk’s amateur night once a month, he says.
Now, Ottawa hosts several regular comedy events such as the Gospel Comedy Revival in addition to a monthly amateur showcase at the recently opened Absolute Comedy Club.
These changes have resulted in a small, tight-knit community that encourages constant innovation and improvement, says Carter.
On Ottawacomedy.com, an online forum for Ottawa-area comedians, message board users post advertisements for upcoming shows and critique the work of others, including whether specific jokes hit their mark.
But vibrancy aside, Thompson admits that Toronto – home to dozens of clubs, bigger audiences and more touring professionals – exerts a gravitational pull on talented and upcoming comedians.
“You have to move there if you want to make it big,” he says, confessing that he’s been mulling over the idea himself.
For the time being, Thompson is focused on promoting local comedy events and competing for a spot in the Ottawa final.
After all these years, will he still be nervous when he takes the stage at Yuk Yuk’s next week?
“I’ve never been more terrified in my life than before my first show,” he says, “and that fear is always somewhere in the back of your mind.”
Carter recalls a particularly bad night he had a few months ago when he couldn’t ease a single chuckle out of a stone-faced audience during his six- minute set.
“Anyone who says they’re not nervous at all is on drugs,” he says. “It’s how you deal with it that counts.”