Recently, I met a young actor who wants to be a comedian but doesn’t write.
Just out of high school with no plans to attend college or otherwise train, he says he can’t get a regular job because that would be difficult to get out of when he scores an audition or an acting job. For now, he’s living off the good graces of his parents. What a lucky—albeit clueless—young man.
I’m not sure I quite understand how this actor thinks he will magically become a comedian. When I was in my 20s and just starting out as a casting director, I used to haunt the comedy clubs a few nights a week. I remember those lonely hallways in the Improv, the Comedy Store, and the Groundlings packed with hopeful and aspiring comedians along with the well-known ones. They’d be pacing back and forth, going over their material to perfect their set. There was an amazing camaraderie between them—even though they all wanted the same thing. Not just stardom and to get on Johnny Carson; that was a given. But to make each other laugh.
Freddie Prinze, Robin Williams, Jerry Seinfeld, Garry Shandling, Paul Reiser, David Brenner, Jim Brogan, Paula Poundstone, Taylor Negron, and Carol Leifer, just to name a few. Richard
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