Welcome to my new subscribers who have deliberately or accidentally subscribed. You might have been sent here by Jess Perkins or Andy Procopis or Lloydie.

Let me properly introduce myself. I’m a huge comedy nerd - and just a fan of pop-culture and creativity in general. I love to connect with people and create communities. When I’m not performing, I teach stand-up, improv, and corporate performance. I love helping people make stuff.

This newsletter is about making comedy and how I make a living performing and teaching. I’ll tell you about my thoughts on stand-up, improv, and writing. I hope it’s helpful.

See Me Live

• August 30th: The Comedy Writers Group Podcast 200th Episode [LIVE] + The Superhero Quiz Show at Humdinger, Melbourne featuring Ivan Artistegueta and Jess Perkins.

• Tickets now on sale for my Melbourne Fringe show: UH-OH LAUGH COMES TO TOWN this October. Check out our poster below!

The Fringe Methtival: Part 3

(This is the third entry in this story if you want to go back and catch-up.)

The more I want to write about the billion dollar meth bust that almost destroyed the Adelaide Fringe season of 2018 for dozens of artists, the more I become sensitive about the real people involved.

I called one of the central characters “[name redacted]” in the first entry of this story because when you’re talking about a real person, the responsibility to get your facts straight feels much more important.

It might sound strange to hear that one of the blokes arrested on that dock in Geraldton isn’t actually the villain of this story, but is actually an unwilling patsy, as is lawyer argued,

In an opening address to the jury, [he] described his client as “the sort of guy who is always looking out for others”.

“It’s those very qualities that led him to be manipulated, misled and used”

He maintained his client, when he got on the [ship], had no idea it was going to pick up anything, let alone more than a tonne of drugs.

I believe him.

I’m going to call [name redacted] The DJ for the remainder of this story because, along with being a bar manager, he was also a prolific DJ around Adelaide. If The DJ happens to read this story, I want him to be able to read it with the good humour intended.

The last entry ended with my wife and I sending an email off to our artists informing them that the venue was closed and we were searching for another licensee to take on The Producers Hotel for Fringe 2018.

We were terrified about the response.

One of my readers, Chloe, asked to see the email that was sent. Unfortunately I couldn’t track it down but it did send me back searching. I woke up the old fringeatheproducers@gmail.com email address and went down memory lane. So many emails to sift through of different challenges, little and big. My heart started racing at the sense memory of the all-encompassing job it was to oversee a Fringe hub; to be responsible for so many artists hopes and dreams. Perhaps the palpitations were just a big coffee too soon after my morning ritalin.

I can tell you what I found and what I do remember. I remember feeling relieved. Every response we received was understanding and encouraging. Lots of messages like “Oh my god, good luck!” and “I’m so sorry to hear it. Keep us posted!”

Sure, they might have been panicked on their end but they could clearly see that our back was up against the wall. We were blind-sided after all.

Our last conversation with The DJ was a few months earlier. We were visiting Adelaide from Sydney and wanted to make sure The Producers Hotel was excited to have us back. There were plans to expand things even further. The DJ had dreams to make a request to the council about using the alleyway alongside the venue for an outside bar. DJ Redacted was a huge fan of my wife and I.

He loved the Fringe because he loved to party. We loved the Fringe because we loved facilitating shows and creating community. We wanted to make a space that we would be proud to perform in.

Some people only knew about The Producers Hotel because of the late night parties thrown by The DJ. I would go home after all the shows were over but unbeknownst to me, DJ Redacted would tell everyone at the Fringe Artist Bar to come back to the hotel for kick ons.

I would come back the next day and find evidence of these late night affairs. I shrugged them off for the most part until I started finding that people had started entering the performance spaces upstairs. When I found a used condom in one of the rooms, that was one of the handful of times I yelled at The DJ.

I was pissed off. I ordered him to take clean it up. The Producers was a grungy shithole but it was our grungy shithole. My job description was to oversee and facilitate the Fringe events. I was an independent contractor but I was always doing tasks that were outside of my purview. I wiped tables, hell, I scrubbed the urinal, but I drew the line at discarded rubbers. The DJ laughed knowingly. He knew he had messed up.

He was in his forties but had a real Peter Pan syndrome and a desire to be liked by everyone. I can’t say I don’t relate (except to the age part, I’m a spritely 37.) DJ Redacted did not take care of himself. Sometimes that was endearing but it was usually just annoying.

At the 2017 Fringe he cut his foot while working behind the bar. It’s the sort of thing that can happen when you work with glass and insist on only wearing thongs all of the time. He wrapped it with a tea-towel and went on working. When the wound became infected and started to balloon, Eleanor and I transformed into his parents and insisted he see a doctor.

The doctor gave him some antibiotics and told him he’d be OK as long as he stayed off of it for a while and didn’t get it wet.

He kept working behind the bar.

He kept wearing his thongs.

I can still see that throbbing tootsie in my mind’s eye getting constantly splashed by various liquids.

There was plenty of staff that could have covered for him but he loved the Fringe atmosphere so much. The bar was practically dead for so much of the rest of the year. Fringe was the highlight of the year. It was my favourite time too.

We emailed all the artists an update that we would find another licensee. The Adelaide Fringe office had our back too.

To be fair, there were two artists from memory that were a little more honest with us. One lined up another venue. We begged them to wait a little longer. We didn’t want, nor could we afford, to lose anyone.

Another artist travelling all the way from the northern hemisphere wanted to know what insurance they had if the venue didn’t open. They could lose a lot of money if they had to reprint posters, flyers, and find another venue. It was a valid question. It’s also a reminder of how the artist always takes on the biggest risk with these festivals.

I’m glad Chloe encouraged me to find that particular email. I couldn’t track it down but what I did find was so many outgoing emails that we sent trying to find another licensee. We shot up the flare. Will someone take over this venue? We even looked into what it cost to pay for a temporary license ourselves. Could we run a bar? Our budget didn’t quite line up.

To avoid writing another entry about this haunting chapter in our life, I’ll fast-forward through all the admin.

In January we got to write another email, informing the artists that while the landlord couldn’t find someone to take the lease, another licensee on their books would run the bar as a pop-up. Who was that licensee? Oh just the same ones that ran The Crazy Horse on Hindley St. You know the one that a certain Australian Idol was kicked out of?

It was our last Fringe at The Producers Hotel. It was the second-to-last year of running a Fringe hub. In 2019 we ran The Wine Centre which was a huge upgrade but came with plenty of its own challenges. That’s another story.

What I can leave you with is that we felt so relieved to be rescued by The Crazy Horse. They brought over their staff who appreciated the novelty and the change of pace. Our artists got to put on their shows. Garry Starr Performs Everything made its debut, Julia Masli found her legs, Elf Lyons was a Swan in a beer garden.

Eleanor and I got to breathe again after clenching our jaws for about a month straight.

You can look up the news articles yourself if you want to keep the story going. It’s the easiest thing in the world to google. One tonne of meth + billion + Geraldton. You’ll discover more about The DJ. You’ll learn that he is out of prison. It seems his lawyer was telling the truth. He just thought he was going for a little boat ride. Maybe we’ll catch up one day if I ever write the book.

If you want to go back to 2018: https://www.facebook.com/ProducersFringe/photos

The Comedy Writers Group

Before you go, I’d love to tell you about my podcast and writers group community. We’re about to hit 200 episodes! Come celebrate with us at Humdinger in Melbourne on August 30th. Members get FREE tickets.

Not just a podcast!

The CWG is a community of comedians from around Australia and NZ - slowly expanding to members around the world. We have sessions every Sunday morning (AEST) and every second Wednesday. At our workshops we’re joined by special guest professional comedians who help guide and mentor our participants.

Private Coaching / Directing Sessions

I have a booking portal for my coaching / directing sessions if you’re interested in working with me 1:1.

Welcome to my new subscribers who have deliberately or accidentally subscribed. You might have been sent here by Jess Perkins or Andy Procopis or Lloydie.

Let me properly introduce myself. I’m a huge comedy nerd - and just a fan of pop-culture and creativity in general. I love to connect with people and create communities. When I’m not performing, I teach stand-up, improv, and corporate performance. I love helping people make stuff.

This newsletter is about making comedy and how I make a living performing and teaching. I’ll tell you about my thoughts on stand-up, improv, and writing. I hope it’s helpful.

See Me Live / Workshops

• UK TOUR! My improv show The Newlyweds is doing shows in Nottingham (18th), London (July 23rd), and I’m running a workshop in Belfast (August 1st.)

Live from London!

I’m writing this entry from London. We just arrived today and I’m battling jetlag but generally doing well. We’re here for our friends’ wedding but we couldn’t resist doing some shows at the same time. The big one is my improv show at The Free Association which we’re producing ourselves.

It’s a HUGE deal for us to put on a show in a hundred seater on the other side of the world.

I need all the help I can get spreading the word, so if you are keen to attend or know folks that might, please forward them the details. Lots to share from my instagram here. You’ll also find a few more dates that I’ve added. We are a grassroots production and every share, personal recommendation, group chat post, is an absolute gift.

Fortunately The Newlyweds is an incredible show so if you come along, or send your friends, it will be an excellent time.

Keen for your advice, recommendations for what to do in the UK, and any gigs you might recommend.

Me and the One Tonne of Meth: Part 2

This is part two of a series. Read my previous newsletter.

The house lights go back on. The show is over.

The Bear Pack was really impressive but in-between the laughs, my brain would drift back to the news I had just received.

The venue I was curating, alongside my wife, for the Adelaide Fringe could be shutting down.

Dozens and dozens of acts would suddenly be without a stage.

Agreements had been signed. International flights had been booked. Jokes were being written, lines were being learned.

We had promised them a space but meanwhile, unbeknownst to us, a massive meth haul in Geraldton, four hours outside of Perth, meant that everything was now in disarray.

We stood in the lobby of the Giant Dwarf theatre pouring over the article. Information was scant. We learned that the bar manager and his boss were arrested on a dock. Caught red handed with way too much meth for one person. The street value was placed at somewhere between 160 million and one billion dollars.

I asked Eleanor if we should inform the artists. But if we tell them, what if they all jumped ship? I was terrified of a mass exodus. I didn’t want to panic anyone. Maybe this would all blow over? Someone else could pick up the lease for this place, right?

The Producers Hotel was an iconic venue that had changed hands so many times over the years. We had worked with three different bar managers. The bar seemed to be cursed. No one seemed able to inject life into it outside of the Fringe festival. The more I thought about it, the more I realised the odds of someone taking over the lease were pretty low.

The bar had changed names several times. It had been known as The Producers Bar, The Electric Light Hotel, The Woodman, and The Old Exchange. We always called it The Producers, which was a bit confusing when talking to the producers who were producing shows at The Producers.

It would be our fourth year curating and directing the events at the venue. Each year it had gotten bigger and bigger. 2018 we were adding another space which meant a dozen more shows. We started with two spaces on the ground floor. The second year we added two tiny rooms upstairs. It was low budget and very grungy.

We didn’t have a budget for air-conditioning in those early years. We put gigantic fans at the windows and encouraged folks to drink plenty of ice-water. It wasn’t ideal but it was cheap. Some of those sweaty comedians like Ahir Shah and Tom Walker have gone onto Netflix specials and hosting roles on The Great Australian Bake-Off. I’m thrilled that I can say that our alumni have gone onto so many cool things.

But there I was in December 2017, standing alongside my wife and co-director wondering if we were going to see another year at this heritage-listed building, first licensed in 1839.

We plucked up the courage and decided it would be better if our artists heard the news from us rather than another source. What’s the best way to tell your clients that their venue had gone up in flames but not to run for the hills? We drafted and re-drafted our email to find the ideal tone.

We hit send and then held our breath waiting for the replies to roll in.

Want to hear what happened next?

Tell me if you want to hear Part 3.

The Comedy Writers Group

Before you go, I’d love to tell you about my podcast and writers group community. This week we had a great amount of feedback for my episode with Nicole Chapman and Ainslie Rose.

Not just a podcast!

The CWG is a community of comedians from around Australia and NZ - slowly expanding to members around the world. We have sessions every Sunday morning (AEST) and every second Wednesday. At our workshops we’re joined by special guest professional comedians who help guide and mentor our participants.

Private Coaching / Directing Sessions

I have a booking portal for my coaching / directing sessions\

Hello to subscribers new and old! I’m Marcel Blanch-de Wilt. I am a freelance funny person. I’m a comedian, director, improviser, teacher, and coach based in Australia.

Welcome to my new subscribers who have deliberately or accidentally subscribed. You might have been sent here by Jess Perkins or Andy Procopis or Lloydie.

Let me properly introduce myself. I’m a huge comedy nerd - and just a fan of pop-culture and creativity in general. I love to connect with people and create communities. When I’m not performing, I teach stand-up, improv, and corporate performance. I love helping people make stuff.

This newsletter is about making comedy and how I make a living performing and teaching. I’ll tell you about my thoughts on stand-up, improv, and writing. I hope it’s helpful.

See Me Live / Workshops

• Building Your Solo Show From Scratch PART 1 and PART 2 is on this Saturday. It’s a perfect starting place for anyone interested in creating a one-person-show.

• July 4th: Eleanor and I are running an improv masterclass in Melbourne. Come and learn how we focus on the fun and discard all the stress.

• I am back hosting The Melbourne International Comedy Festival roadshow! I will be in Sale on July 9th, Traralgon July 10th, and Bairnsdale on July 11th.

• UK TOUR! My improv show The Newlyweds is doing shows in Nottingham (18th), London (July 23rd), and I’m running a workshop in Belfast (August 1st.) More dates to come.

  
  If you have any mates in the UK, please let them know about the shows. Doing international shows on no budget is a big deal for us so we need all the help we can get. I’m posting regularly from The Newlyweds instagram page in the lead up if you want to share posts or just follow along.

Me and the One Tonne of Meth

Did I ever tell you about the time I was one degree of separation from the biggest meth bust in Western Australia?

It was December, 2017. I was in Sydney.

My wife and I had just sat down to watch The Bear Pack at Giant Dwarf.

(I just realised that must be a puzzling sentence for anyone not involved with alt comedy in Sydney during a very specific era. I don’t want to alienate anyone this early into a story.)

The Bear Pack is an improv team made up of Carlo Ritchie and Steen Raskopoulos with Ange Lavoipierre playing along on the cello. Giant Dwarf was an iconic indy arts venue that sadly no longer exists.

Eleanor and I were very excited about the show. The Bear Pack did a whole hour of improv where they played multiple characters and managed to make it both hilarious and cohesive. I wondered if we could ever pull off a show like theirs. The following year we would do our first show as The Newlyweds. (Eight years later we’re doing our first show in London.)

The lights were about to go down. Time to make sure my phone was on silent.

I noticed a text message from my friend Lewis. It read:

Followed by a screenshot of a portion of a news article about a billion dollar meth haul.

I read the tiny block of text about seven times in as many seconds. The screenshot gave so little away besides meth and Geraldton and a name too unique to be a coincidence. My heart was racing.

I quickly googled the article so I could try and understand what Lewis was talking about. I don’t think Lewis knew how cruel he was being sending such a vague screenshot with no other context.

Eleanor could tell I was suddenly concerned.

“The show is about to start, put your phone away”

I found the article. There was a photo of him and his handcuffed accomplices on a jetty. It was the last thing on Earth that I wanted to see. I passed my phone to Eleanor with about as much context as Lewis had given me.

“What the fuck?”

The thing was, [name redacted] was the bar manager for the venue we were programming for Adelaide Fringe.

The lights start going down in Giant Dwarf.

If he had been arrested, then there was every chance the venue would close its doors. We had our line-up of shows locked in. We were a hub venue with over fifty shows. Performers like Garry Starr, Alice Fraser, and Elf Lyons were converging on The Producers Hotel in just a few months.

The Bear Pack’s intro music begins to play. “Whoooooooa come on…”

Eleanor and I looked at each other with dread. We had been running Fringe events there for years. This was going to be our biggest season yet. What could we do? How could we tell artists coming from around the world that their venue might no longer exist because of a pallet of party drugs?

There was no time to think. The show was starting.

Do you want to hear the rest of the story? Comment below.

The Comedy Writers Group

Before you go, I’d love to tell you about my podcast and writers group community. This week on my podcast I was joined by Kate Dehnert whose show Echo was a huge hit at the Melbourne International Comedy Festival.

Not just a podcast!

The CWG is a community of comedians from around Australia and NZ - slowly expanding to members around the world. We have sessions every Sunday morning (AEST) and every second Wednesday. At our workshops we’re joined by special guest professional comedians who help guide and mentor our participants.

Check us out on instagram and patreon.

Private Coaching / Directing Sessions

I have a booking portal for my coaching / directing sessions. Work with me 1:1 on your next project, big or small. I’ve helped folks with their five minute stand-up set, their festival show, their newsletters, novels, and screenplays.

Welcome to my new subscribers who have deliberately or accidentally subscribed. You might have been sent here by Jess Perkins or Andy Procopis or Lloydie.

Let me properly introduce myself. I’m a huge comedy nerd - and just a fan of pop-culture and creativity in general. I love to connect with people and create communities. When I’m not performing, I teach stand-up, improv, and corporate performance. I love helping people make stuff.

This newsletter is about making comedy and how I make a living performing and teaching. I’ll tell you about my thoughts on stand-up, improv, and writing. I hope it’s helpful.

See Me Live / Workshops

• Building Your Solo Show From Scratch PART 1 and PART 2 have just gone on sale. June 27. Spend the morning or spend the day.

• I am back hosting The Melbourne International Comedy Festival roadshow! I will be in Sale on July 9th, Traralgon July 10th, and Bairnsdale on July 11th.

• I’m coming to England and Ireland in July. I will have some shows and workshops to announce soon.

How To Give Feedback to a Comedian

I hear this story all the time:

“This guy came up to me after the open mic and gave me feedback on my set. It made me really uncomfortable…”

I’m tired of hearing this tale.

The stand-up world is full of people that are keen to take you aside to give you advice on your set. Sometimes it can be done with a generous warmth. Other times it might come off as unnecessarily critical and cruel. Some of the people might be well-intentioned but struggle to articulate themselves in a helpful way, others are deliberately malicious and want you to feel bad.

As someone who gives feedback for a living, I would love to offer some feedback to all the people out there who feel compelled to offer their two cents to their fellow comedians after a show.

Before we get into it, I do want to say, I love to give feedback. I understand the compulsion! I’ve made a career out of it. I’ve directed and consulted on dozens of one person shows and a countless amount of bits from comics around the world.

I love to analyse a performance and explore all the many potential adjustments to experiment with to get the ideal result BUT there’s a series of things to consider first. There’s an art to commenting on art.

1. The Timing

Has the individual just left the stage? This will likely be the worst time.

I’m sensitive when I finish a performance. Good or bad, I probably don’t want to hear your critique right away.

If you’re afraid that you might forget your idea, write it down so you can share it later. Maybe you might even want to meet for a coffee later in the week. Congratulations, you have a new writing buddy!

Another great move is to ask the comedian before they go on stage if they would like any feedback.

2. Get Their Consent

So many comedians are hungry for feedback. When a fellow comic says, “Would you like some advice?” it’s really tempting to hear them out.

“Wow, someone watched my act and has something to tell me? What a generous gift!”

When you’re a new comic, it feels especially attractive to get advice. Dickheads will take advantage of this fact. They might say, “Do you want advice?” but they aren’t really asking if you’re interested. They’re taking advantage of the power imbalance. They’re taking advantage of the fact that you will probably feel pressured to say yes.

If you don’t want to be a dickhead, I highly encourage you to get proper, enthusiastic consent. You’ll only be able to do that by addressing everything else on this checklist.

If you’re happy to be a dickhead, you can stop reading here.

3. The Context

Is the comedian a beginner? If so, it’s probably a HUGE DEAL that they have even shown up and gotten up on stage. Just saying “Well done for getting up!” or “Nice work!” is probably plenty.

Open mics are like gyms. Any fitness expert will tell you that the the early days of getting into a workout routine are just about showing up. Commenting on someone’s lifting technique might make them second-guess ever returning.

4. Your Relationship

Do you know this person?

Do you have a friendly relationship where you both give each other feedback on each other’s sets? If not, time to reconsider. They might not have any idea who you are and what your experience level is. A stranger criticising your act is not pleasant no matter how well-intentioned you think you are.

The two of you might have different goals and philosophies. If you don’t know them, then you don’t know what their objectives are. What you offer as important information might not apply to them at all.

5. The Geography

Have I blocked an exit or thoroughfare? Are they sitting down and you’re standing over them? This isn’t a great vibe.

Whether you asked them or not if they wanted advice, they might feel trapped. They could be just hearing you out so you will go away.

6. Check Your Status

Are you a new comedian giving feedback to a more experienced comedian? Pretty bold stuff! They might be receptive but be aware that it might be read as cocky or misguided.

Personally, I’m very happy to hear ideas from newer comedians if they are well-intentioned. Give the more experienced comic the benefit of the doubt that they might have thought of that idea by starting your thought with “Have you thought of…” or “Have you considered…” rather than telling them that they have missed something.

Is there a power imbalance in this relationship? Perhaps you a male comedian with a few years of experience under your belt and they are a female comedian who recently started comedy. This is a power imbalance. Any feedback that could be read as negative or critical will carry a lot more weight and impact.

You need to be aware that the weight and impact of these words could affect whether this person ever returns to this open mic. It’s not your job to show them “tough love” or tell them “what they need to hear.” They’re in a vulnerable spot as a new comedian and you’re taking advantage of that.

7. Talk About It

Rather than talking AT the person, make it a conversation.

Questions like, “I’d love to hear more about that joke” or “Is that brand new material?” are nice starting points. Get context before you weigh in with your ideas. For example, it might be a routine that they have done a lot that usually goes much better and they won’t benefit from hearing you tell them the bit doesn’t work.

They don’t need you to tell them it went poorly but asking something like, “What did you think of tonight’s audience?” is a nice way to get a sense if they’re in the mood for a debrief. Don’t tell them their set was bad. That’s worthless information. Ask them how they felt, ask them if they have any questions about any of the sections. Make them feel comfortable to discuss it if they want to.

8. Don’t Speak in Absolutes

Perhaps my most important piece of advice is to avoid speaking in absolutes. People carry these myths and rules around like they’re the gospel. Things like “That joke needs to be shorter” or “You should be getting a laugh every twenty seconds” or “You need to get good at crowd work.”

What you a New York comedian yell about on a podcast or what you read in a How to Comedy book might not apply to this person.

All of these things are subjective. If you are telling comedians anything as if it is an objective fact, you are misleading them. Everyone is on their own path. Everyone is trying their best to be as funniest as possible as they experiment with their voice. You coming along as if you have all the answers as if it’s a equation or formula is so misguided.

I try my best to ensure that everything I extend to others is an invitation, a thought, a consideration.

Beware anyone using the phrase: “You know what you should do…”

9. One Last Thing

This is the part the dickheads will never read. They won’t get this far. They will have decided that they don’t need any feedback. I’m talking about a particular type of advice-giver that I’m not going to be able to get through to - but I want the new comedians to watch out for.

This sort of person hangs out at open mics for years and never progresses beyond them. You won’t see them outside of one or two particular rooms. They don’t demonstrate any ambition. Most of the time you’ll hear them muttering to themselves about how the whole scene is plotting against them. I call them Swamp Goblins.

They are comfortable in their little swamp. They want you to never progress either. They don’t want someone new and shiny coming along and progressing beyond them. They would feel like a personal attack.

So the Swampy Open Mic Goblin will offer you advice designed to sound helpful but it’s really just a series of criticisms designed to hobble you. Either you will leave the swamp never to be seen again or you will join the swamp and become a goblin too. Either way, the Swamp Goblin wins.

I tried to avoid writing this list just about rude men giving feedback to women but that’s how the story so often goes. Blokes dominate the comedy scene. So many of them are giving us a bad name. Men have a responsibility to ensure the each room is welcoming so that we might have a more dynamic, interesting, and diverse culture.

So how do you defeat a disturbing creature like this? Avoid them. If they corner you. Nod politely and think of anything else. Don’t let this cruel beast influence you one bit. You’re on your own path. Focus on the resources that truly resonate with your goals and dreams. Leave the rest in the swamp.

The Comedy Writers Group

Before you go, I’d love to tell you about my podcast and writers group community. Recent guests include Yve Blake (Fangirls) and my new episode with Andy Procopis drops later today.

Not just a podcast!

The CWG is a community of comedians from around Australia and NZ - slowly expanding to members around the world. We have sessions every Sunday morning (AEST) and every second Wednesday. At our workshops we’re joined by special guest professional comedians who help guide and mentor our participants.

Private Coaching / Directing Sessions

I have a booking portal for my coaching / directing sessions. These are one-on-one appointments designed to give you customised guidance on your creative pursuit. Lately I’ve been working with folks on a range of projects from stand-up sets, full shows, novels, newsletters, comedy songs, and more.

Hello to subscribers new and old! I’m Marcel Blanch-de Wilt. I am a freelance funny person. I’m a comedian, director, improviser, teacher, and coach based in Australia.

Welcome to my new subscribers who have deliberately or accidentally subscribed. You might have been sent here by Jess Perkins or Andy Procopis or Lloydie.

Let me properly introduce myself. I’m a huge comedy nerd - and just a fan of pop-culture and creativity in general. I love to connect with people and create communities. When I’m not performing, I teach stand-up, improv, and corporate performance. One of the roles I love most is coaching and directing.

This newsletter is about making comedy and how I make a living performing and teaching. I’ll tell you about my thoughts on stand-up, improv, and writing. I hope it’s helpful. I hope it’s interesting. It might be funny sometimes.

See Me Live / Workshops

• I am back hosting The Melbourne International Comedy Festival roadshow! I will be in Sale on July 9th, Traralgon July 10th, and Bairnsdale on July 11th.

• I’m coming to England and Ireland in July. Point me in the direction of gigs!

My Mum in My Stand-Up Shows

Happy Mother’s Day!

To all the mothers I grew up with from the Alien Queen to Sarah Connor.

But especially my own mum. She has featured in so many of my stand-up shows.

In Let Me Eat Cake I talked about one of her favourite little jokes when I was a kid. When we went to a bakery she would look at the cake display and pretend she was going to order everything. She would point at each of her favourites and say, “I’ll have one of those, and one of those and one of those…”

When in reality, we didn’t have that sort of money. We had to live pretty humbly. Every treat was incredibly meaningful. Every finger bun and custard tart was savoured.

In The Best Man I talked about how tumultuous our house often was. We would go from a serene house to a suddenly chaotic one. Such was growing up with three boys and a single mum. One of her favourite catchphrases in the early years was “Shit a bloody brick!”

She worked so damn hard and we often struggled to demonstrate how grateful we were.

I still think about how generous she was while also dealing with so much stress and so little support. I remember when I dropped my plate of dinner on the floor by mistake. I was so embarrassed. I cried. Mum gave me hers without a moment of hesitation. She ended up having plain rice. I held every plate a lot tighter after that.

The show was about my absent father and how my best man’s speech at my wedding inspired me to look back on my upbringing. My father argued that he wasn’t absent. The story of the show proved that he was and emphasised that my mum had to play the role of both parents. I never felt there was something missing because she filled that void and then some.

I can’t recall every mum-related moment from every show. I didn’t write every show long hand in the early days (so I can’t scan them all to see) but so many of my shows end up featuring her in some way.

A lot has changed. She has lost so much of the stress and tension that came with a chaotic house, long hours as a nurse, and it’s so lovely to see her enjoying retirement. It’s been decades since she uttered the words, “Shit a bloody brick” so you know things must be going okay. She has taught me to appreciate the little things. She has always been quick to point out a nice day or people enjoying a nice glass of wine in the sun.

Every time I go to a cafe or a bakery I find myself staring at the cake display and thinking to myself:

“I’ll have one of those,
and
one of those,
and
one
of
those…”

The Comedy Writers Group

Before you go, I’d love to tell you about my podcast and writers group community. We’re almost up to 200 episodes of The CWG podcast. Recent guests include John Safran, Josie Long, and some excellent up-and-comers at Sydney Comedy Festival.

Not just a podcast!

The CWG is a community of comedians from around Australia and NZ - slowly expanding to members around the world. We have sessions every Sunday morning (AEST) and every second Wednesday. At our workshops we’re joined by special guest professional comedians who help guide and mentor our participants.

Learn more here.

Private Coaching / Directing Sessions

I have a booking portal for my coaching / directing sessions. These are one-on-one appointments designed to give you customised guidance on your creative pursuit. Lately I’ve been working with folks on a range of projects from stand-up sets, full shows, novels, newsletters, comedy songs, and more.

“I just did my session with Marcel and it was SO HELPFUL. He’s so good at breaking stuff down and helping make it clear and easy for the audience to get on board with you. I’m always amazed by how skilled he is at this stuff.”

- Katie Eyles

Hello to subscribers new and old! I’m Marcel Blanch-de Wilt. I am a freelance funny person. I’m a comedian, director, improviser, teacher, and coach based in Australia.

Welcome to my new subscribers who have deliberately or accidentally subscribed. You might have been sent here by Jess Perkins or Andy Procopis or Lloydie.

Let me properly introduce myself. I’m a huge comedy nerd - and just a fan of pop-culture and creativity in general. I love to connect with people and create communities. When I’m not performing, I teach stand-up, improv, and corporate performance. One of the roles I love most is coaching and directing.

This newsletter is about making comedy and how I make a living performing and teaching. I’ll tell you about my thoughts on stand-up, improv, and writing. I hope it’s helpful. I hope it’s interesting. It might be funny sometimes.

See Me Live / Workshops

• I’m bringing a new experimental show to Brisbane on April 24th where I combine Role Play with COMEDY. I think it’s going to be great. I’ve also recruited some excellent mates to help me put it together like Charlotte Grimmer and Liz Talbot.

• I’m bringing stand-up and improv workshops to Brisbane April 25th / 26th.

• I’m coming to England in July. Point me in the direction of gigs!

I’M BREAKING UP WITH THE FESTIVAL

There’s this massive slump after performing at an event like the Melbourne International Comedy Festival.

For most of us independent artists, we go from performing every night, seeing shows, catching up with friends, and suddenly back to regular life.

Just like Eminem once said, “Snap back to reality, oop, there goes gravity.”

It’s such a disruptive event for the nervous system. You’re the producer and performer of this show that is the centre of your universe and then one day it’s over. My friend Phil said it feels like a break-up. I totally agreed.

There you are, fresh romance, having the time of your life. They call themselves The Festival. Friends have warned you that they are a total Fest Boy but you can’t help yourself. You’ve heard that everybody who wants to be somebody should do The Festival.

You experience the highs and lows of a new relationship. The excitement of wondering where this is going to go. Every night is a little bit different. Not every moment together is perfect but it’s a thrill to see what’s next. Sometimes they don’t call you back. Other nights are unforgettable. No one has made you feel this way before. You’re a star. You can’t believe The Festival has chosen you. You love the way they can make you feel so you keep coming back.

You can barely keep up with them. This isn’t your usual pace, your usual lifestyle. Fortunately your body is coursing with adrenaline. You’ve told your nervous system that nothing is more important than keeping up with The Festival’s other F-buddies.

The Festival expects you to be out every night of the week and when you’re not with them, they expect you to be thinking about them. You look them up constantly to see if they’re thinking about you too (they’re not.) This can’t be healthy.

One day it’s over.

You knew this moment was coming. It was never going to last. You’ve heard that some people have made this sort of relationship work. They follow The Festival wherever they go. You don’t have that sort of money to afford that lifestyle. The Festival sure as hell isn’t going to pay for you to join them.

You say goodbye.

Now that dopamine you were getting every night is suddenly gone. They made you feel important and wanted. Where did that go? You had a purpose. Yesterday you had a goal, now you’re a directionless mess.

Look for the dopamine in the bottom of a tub of Ben & Jerry’s. Find some comfort in a slice of pizza and the worst movie you can find on Netflix.

Don’t look up your ex on instagram.

Don’t do it… oh no… you’re doing it…

They’re having fun with someone else aren’t they? Look how many photo carousels they are appearing in. You thought it was a monogamous relationship? Look how quickly they’ve moved on. They’re having the best time without you in Sydney. Then they’re going to Brisbane. You start wondering if you should surprise them in Edinburgh. Would that be weird? Would they be excited to see you? You remember them asking you about Edinburgh but maybe they were just being polite????

IF YOU ARE EXPERIENCING A FESTIVAL BREAK-UP…

• Get off instagram. Detox.

• Actually, get off your phone entirely.

• Journal about your experience. In a notebook. Reflect on the highs and the lows.

• Feel your feelings. Even if you had the best time, you’re still going to feel depressed.

• Find some healthy sources of dopamine and serotonin. Home cooked meals and exercise is a good start. I like jigsaw puzzles.

• Resist the temptation to drive past your ex’s house. It’s still so fresh. You’re going to look weird.

• Do things that regulate you i.e sing, dance, cry, jog.

• Catch up with friends that aren’t interested in you talking about your ex. It’s important to remember that your ex isn’t actually the centre of your universe, it just felt that way.

CELEBRATE…

Celebrate what you had. Maybe you’ll meet again in the future and have another fling. In the meantime, focus on you. How can you make yourself the best partner you can be in the future? Focus on sources of happiness outside of your relationship with The Festival. Maybe you’ll decide that you don’t actually need them after all.

The Comedy Writers Group

The Comedy Festival season has been a very busy time for my podcast. I’ve had some incredible guests that were such a treat to talk to. You can find the podcast on all the apps or listen directly here. If you’ve made it this deep into this newsletter, I think you’ll be into. It’s a proper behind-the-scenes nerd-out podcast.

Not just a podcast!

The CWG is a community of comedians from around Australia and NZ - slowly expanding to members around the world. We have sessions every Sunday morning (AEST) and every second Wednesday. At our workshops we’re joined by special guest professional comedians who help guide and mentor our participants.

Learn more here.

Private Coaching / Directing Sessions

I have a booking portal for my coaching / directing sessions. These are one-on-one appointments designed to give you customised guidance on your creative pursuit. Lately I’ve been working with folks on a range of projects from stand-up sets, full shows, novels, newsletters, comedy songs, and more.

“I just did my session with Marcel and it was SO HELPFUL. He's so good at breaking stuff down and helping make it clear and easy for the audience to get on board with you. I'm always amazed by how skilled he is at this stuff.”
- Katie Eyles

Hello to subscribers new and old! I’m Marcel Blanch-de Wilt. I am a freelance funny person. I’m a comedian, director, improviser, teacher, and coach based in Australia.

Welcome to my new subscribers who have deliberately or accidentally subscribed. You might have been sent here by Jess Perkins or Andy Procopis or Lloydie.

Let me properly introduce myself. I’m a huge comedy nerd - and just a fan of pop-culture and creativity in general. I love to connect with people and create communities. When I’m not performing, I teach stand-up, improv, and corporate performance. One of the roles I love most is coaching and directing comedians. Oh look, that was a link to book me!

This newsletter is about making comedy and how I make a living performing and teaching. I’ll tell you about my thoughts on stand-up, improv, and writing (and a lot about the person doing those things.)

See Me Live / Workshops

• I’m hosting Shepparton LOLs for The Shepparton Arts Festival on the 26th of March

• I’m running a Beginner’s Stand-Up Workshop in Cairns on April 19th. Tix go on sale soon.

• I’m bringing a new experimental show to Brisbane on April 24th where I combine Role Play with COMEDY.

• I’m bringing stand-up and improv workshops to Brisbane April 25th / 26th.

• I’m coming to England in July. Point me in the direction of gigs!

ENCOURAGEMENT IS CRUEL

Encouragement is a magical thing. We have the power to influence people. We have the ability to dive inside someone’s mind and inspire them to be more than they are. Encouragement is a spell. Encouragement is an ear-worm, a song that you can’t get out of your head.

There’s a reason why teachers will say ‘Don’t encourage them!’ when a kid is being disruptive in class. They know how powerful it is to feel encouraged by all the attention in the room.

Encouragement can be cruel.

“That should be a show!”
“Have you thought about taking it to the Edinburgh Fringe?”
“I’d love to see you perform sometime. Let me know about the next one!”

As creatives, most of us need encouragement. We feed off of it. Encouragement is permission. Encouragement is an invitation to continue. When we make a new friend at a party and they say, “Tell me when you’re performing next” we take that to mean: I’ve just sold a guaranteed ticket to a future show.

When we look out to the audience of that performance, and our new friend is nowhere to be seen, it feels like we’re back at our 10th birthday party. The cake is ready to be cut and no one is there to eat it. This is compounded if you have Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria.

Logically, our new friend might have had plenty of excuses why they couldn’t make it along to the show. There’s also a myriad of reasons why they might have said they’d like to come but not really meant it. Perhaps they were just being polite or, like so many of us, had the lofty ambition to be the sort of person that would get out to see more live events. We shouldn’t take it personally and yet it’s so hard not to. When you’re producing your own work, you’re putting your heart and soul out into the spotlight. You’re tired, you’re vulnerable, and everything feels much more heightened.

There is a brand of “punk”, outsider artist, that creates just for the sake of creating. I wish I could be like that. Unfortunately I have made my art my career. Therefore, I depend on people wanting to consume what I make for my income. I need them to need me. I can’t play hard to get.

THE SAVIOUR COMPLEX

I was inspired to write this after my friend Roisin posted about her experience not getting through the Raw Comedy Competition, a national contest for open mic comedians. She talked about the saviour complex, and how as artists we’re hoping for the day that someone will come along and pluck us out of obscurity and make our plight worthwhile. Watch the whole video, Roisin articulates the feeling so well.

The experience totally resonated with me. I’ve been pursuing work in the arts since 2008. I’ve been a stand-up comedian since 2011. At my first gig, I was The Comedian of the Night and won the prize of a guaranteed spot on next week’s show. I was encouraged from the get go. It felt great. It was intoxicating. The first thought of so many comedians who have a successful debut is, ‘I guess this is my life now’ or ‘This is all I want to do.’

I will see those same comedians years later posting about feeling directionless and confused. They are putting on shows and struggling to sell tickets despite the fact they were told they were special. Every year there will be a comedian posting about the hard work they’ve put into a show that no one is coming to see.

So many of us will put shows on sale and expect the tickets to fly out the door because we’ve been tricked by encouragement. Just the mere act of registering a show feels like it should be enough to warrant interest. “Look at me! I’m putting on a comedy show! It’s me! The guy you said should put on a show! Well here it is! Step right up and get a ticket!”

Our voice is lost among the cacophony of other artists inspired to chase their dream.

THE FAULT OF THE FESTIVAL

Festivals should take some responsibility for their role in encouragement. Around the world, festivals are selling the dream of performing to packed houses in glamorous venues. Yes, in the fine print they tell you that you should be budgeting for roughly 25% capacity (and as Melbourne International Comedy Festival director Susan Provan said on my podcast, you should be prepared to sell your car), but we artists don’t tend to get bogged down in fine print. We’re dreamers.

It’s worth highlighting too that independent artists (especially those low on funds, the neurodiverse, anyone doing it tough) struggle enough to keep their head above water being the writer, producer, and promoter, so important details like the importance of a budget or how paramount it is to have great publicity often slip through. We tend to read the headlines: Put on Your Very Own Show at this Prestigious Festival!

It’s not a festival’s fault that so many artists find themselves disappointed by their ticket sales. We are following the flock of other creatives putting on shows. Everyone else was doing it. I thought it was the one path to success. It just seemed like what we were supposed to do. I believed if I found success at a festival that I would become legitimate. I would be one of the people.

THE CURSE OF ENCOURAGEMENT

Sometimes when someone tells me they’re thinking about getting into comedy I’ll say, “Don’t do it!”

I’m joking (mostly.)

If you want to do something in the arts, do it. You have my total encouragement.

There’s a common adage in the acting world that “If you can do anything else, do that.” It speaks to how punishing the pursuit can be and if you can find fulfilment elsewhere, then you should go chase that.

It’s worth remembering that no vocation needs to be forever. People are afraid of the sunk cost fallacy. “I’ve chased this dream for so long! Who would I be without it?” It can also transform. I, personally, have loved how my pursuit of stand-up has transformed into teaching, coaching, and directing, all while continuing to love the performance side.

It can all feel a bit silly. Our emotions get the better of us. As Roisin points out in her video, she had just debuted a four star solo show in Perth but then felt lousy about not getting through an open mic competition. When she speaks of her achievement of writing and producing her very own one hour show she says, “I never would have imagined being here a year ago.” It’s so easy for us to lose sight of what is remarkable. We tend to always look toward the next thing.

MAKING IT

I think so many of us are attached to the idea of ‘making it.’ This idea that there will be a moment when we feel secure. The more established comedians I interview, the more I’m surprised by how few of them feel like the successes that are from the outside looking in. I’m currently directing Steph Tisdell’s show and she is so sensitive to whether the audience will respond positively to what she wants to say. We’ve talked at length our podcast series about taking up space, permission, and not apologising. That insecurity doesn’t disappear once you’ve started getting booked for cool gigs and TV shows. If you’re pursuing an art in the hope that one particular opportunity will fill the void, you should be going to therapy. (You can do both.)

There is no such thing as making it. Forgive me for sounding like a total wanker but art is not a destination. Making it is making it. If you find any time in your week to be creative, you’ve won. If you start attaching strings to it like it’s only successful if it makes a full-time wage, then you’ve set yourself up for disappointment.

I LOVE TO ENCOURAGE

I love to encourage people. It’s such a beautiful thing to do. A lot of us don’t hear encouraging things often enough. It can make someone’s day to throw a dollar to a busker, to buy someone’s art, to comment something nice on their instagram reel.

I would never lie to someone. I wouldn’t tell someone that their success is guaranteed. I also can’t read everyone’s mind. I don’t know how they measure their success.

The last thing I want to do is discourage you from encouraging. I want to highlight encouragement’s ability to transform. To make us feel special. When we feel special, we feel brave. The word courage is in the word! You are endowing someone with courage! You’re a wizard!

When we feel brave, we do big things like produce shows and events. Sometimes they’re met with success in the form of sales and attendance. Sometimes they might not be. It’s in that moment that The Artist can feel lied to and tricked.

“I thought you wanted me.”

“I thought this one might really catch fire.”

“I thought that this would be the one that makes me.”

I’VE BEEN TALKING TO MYSELF THE WHOLE TIME

I wrote this for Roisin and everyone that commented on her post about how much it resonated (I especially appreciated the response from RJ Carey who encouraged everyone to be their own saviour.)

I wrote this for myself. I have low points where I feel like I’m not a success. Just this week I put an Online Stand-Up Course on sale and it didn’t immediately start selling. The little boy at the 10th birthday party inside my head became unsteady, wondering why he even bothered sending out the Ninja Turtles-themed invitations. When I took a little pause I realised that I had been overworking myself a little too much, needed some rest, needed a refresh.

In order to be our own saviour, our own engine, our own source of fuel, we need to take care of ourselves. I have benefitted from journaling, writing down nice things people have said, taking note of artworks that have inspired me, making a mood board, sharing resources that have helped me with others, and most importantly, making an effort to find the fun. I am truly living the dream at the moment. I get to do cool shows and help people make their cool shows.

If you’ve lost direction as an artist, I encourage you to reconnect with WHY. Why were you drawn to this in the first place?

The fun is what drew me to comedy in the first place. It’s so fun to entertain a crowd. It’s so fun to play with mates in an improv show. Fun is the drug that I keep chasing. Underneath the fun is love. The love of connecting with an audience. The love of connecting with other humans and not feeling so alone. A feeling that we’re all playing the same game, sharing in the same joy. I can find that feeling in all sorts of places; a stand-up show, a workshop, a writers retreat, an improv jam, or sitting in the audience of a show I’ve worked on.

It’s the incredible feeling of all of your best friends in the world turning up to your birthday party because there’s nowhere else they would rather be.

These sorts of moments in life are magical.

Encouragement is fairy dust.

Sprinkle it on everyone you can.

The Comedy Writers Group

I had Josie Long on my podcast last week and I had a lovely time learning about her approach to creating shows. It turns out it can be a positive experience!

What is The Comedy Writers Group? The CWG is a community of comedians from around Australia - and slowly expanding to members around the world. We have sessions every Sunday morning (AEDT) and every second Wednesday. At our workshops we’re joined by special guest professional comedians who help guide and mentor our participants.

Learn more here.

Coaching / Directing Sessions

I have a booking portal for my coaching / directing sessions. These are one-on-one appointments designed to give you customised guidance on your creative pursuit. Lately I’ve been working with folks on a range of projects from stand-up sets, full shows, novels, newsletters, comedy songs, and more.

“I’ve been doing stand-up on and off for several years, never fully committing because I always struggled to find my voice (and also maybe because of my debilitating fear of commitment). After just a few coaching sessions with Marcel, I’m more inspired, sure of myself, and have finally figured out what I want to say and who I want to be on stage, which I may never have achieved without him.”

— Amelia Fritz

Subscribe now

Hello to subscribers new and old! I’m Marcel Blanch-de Wilt. I am a freelance funny person. I’m a comedian, director, improviser, teacher, and coach based in Australia.

Welcome to my new subscribers who have deliberately or accidentally subscribed. You might have been sent here by Jess Perkins or Andy Procopis or Lloydie.

Let me properly introduce myself. I’m a huge comedy nerd - and just a fan of pop-culture and creativity in general. I love to connect with people and create communities. When I’m not performing, I teach stand-up, improv, and corporate performance. One of the roles I love most is coaching and directing comedians. Oh look, that was a link to book me!

This newsletter is about making comedy and how I make a living performing and teaching. I’ll tell you about my thoughts on stand-up, improv, and writing (and a lot about the person doing those things.)

See Me Live

• I’m MCing the Geelong Raw Comedy Heat March 7th

• I’m hosting Shepparton LOLs for The Shepparton Arts Festival on the 26th of March

• I’m coming to England in July. Point me in the direction of gigs!

Don’t Give In To The BrAIn Slugs

An AI generated movie was one of the TropFest finalists. The biggest short film competition in the world.

Good news everyone!

Turns out you don’t have to put your blood, sweat, and tears into your creative projects any more.

Welcome to Another Edition of Old Man Yells At Cloud

It’s disturbing how insidious generative AI has become. I hate how normalised it is. People will tell me they use Chat GPT to help them write as if it’s the most normal thing in the world.

There’s a heap of people on social media posting their AI generated memes like it’s a harmless novelty.

It’s ugly, it’s theft, it’s destroying the planet, and it’s an endorsement of billionaires.

It’s a slap in the face to artists who work damn hard to make things from scratch.

Every time someone tells me they use AI for creative work, I can see the alien slug hanging out of their ear. They insist that the slugs have our best interests in mind. “Giving myself over to the Slug Overlords has made my output 15% faster.”

“Chat GPT helps me with my writing. It doesn’t write for me, but I use it for prompts and to help me with ideas.”

That’s writing. Writing is generating ideas.

You are using AI to write.

You’re using AI as a shortcut.

You’re skipping the sweat. You’re skipping the line. You’re skipping being touched by inspiration. You’re coming along and trying to pretend like you’ve worked just as hard.

You’re cheating.

Everytime I see someone using generative AI I’m teleported back to Primary School listening to an eight year old kid telling me that he beat Super Mario by using cheat codes.

“Yeah, if you press A, B, Up, Up, Down, R, Back, R, B, you can skip the hardest part and get straight to the final level.”

But then you’re not really playing the game are you?

Yet you’re still telling everyone you beat the game.

Why does this feel so unfair?

Other Creative Cheats

There’s all sorts of cheats in the art world.

Alongside AI are the grifters saying the worst things to get the most clicks. Those outrage farmers on the internet who have decided to lean into the worst of humanity to get attention. It’s cheating. The latest trend is trying to have it both ways by doing things like endorsing Trump for clicks and then “changing their mind” for even more clicks.

Rich folks cosplaying as starving artists also feels like another cheat. These will be the artists pretending to be just like you but for some reason things just seem to come so much more easily to them. The starving artist cosplay is very confusing for the genuine Starving Artists™ who wonder why the fakers have such an ease about them.

No shade on artists with tremendous wealth. Good for them. You’re lucky. I know you still work hard. I’m jealous. It makes me feel like I don’t have what it takes when I can’t keep up. I thought we were playing the same game but I’m playing on Hard Mode. Suddenly I’m tempted to get in touch with my friend from school about those cheat codes.

(I have a lot of appreciation for artists who will speak frankly about their financial situation. That transparency makes a huge difference for the up-and-comers wondering if there will ever be a time when their art could provide financial stability. I make a point to bring it up as often as possible on my podcast.)

“You’ll Be Left Behind”

I hate all the commentary about “AI is the future” and how we’ll be left behind if we don’t get on board. The leader of the alien uprising is offering everyone a discounted skull worm for a limited time only. Everything a billionaire tells you should not be trusted.

I was already struggling to keep up in a non-AI world. I’ve had to be very scrappy to get by. The work of an independent artist is a shitload of admin, self-promotion, producing, and writing. I’ll spend an afternoon designing things for my instagram or website only to see you with your brain slug technology whip something up in a matter of seconds.

I’ll click on the comment section to find far too many people commenting how much they love this AI generated slop. The commenter’s brain slugs have buried deep into their frontal lobes.

We’re normalising lazy. We’re normalising not putting our heart and soul into it. We’re normalising cutting humans out of the creative process. I get it! Life is exhausting. What a relief it is to have the extra-terrestrial worm chew on our neurons for a bit.

“AI is a Tool”

Don’t tell me it’s a tool. This isn’t me using a hammer and nails while ignoring the electric screwdriver.

The folks at Bosch weren’t hellbent on destroying our entire way of life because they invested billions of dollars into screwdriver technology and therefore if we didn’t buy an electric screwdriver for every room in the house we would be thrown into a recession.

Your use of AI is an endorsement of AI in our culture. It’s an endorsement of art being devalued.

I can’t tell you how much it makes my blood boil to see folks on instagram use stolen robot-vomited images to promote something they want you to buy tickets to.

When painters were upset about cameras coming for their art, the folks at Kodak weren’t also looking for ways to destroy entire workforces around the world with contigency for what’s next.

These billionaires have no plans for making this profitable beyond putting it everywhere. They are desperate to put AI in everything. They want you to think you’ve never known how to compose an email or toasted bread before.

AI is Foie gras

AI is foie gras.

AI is factory farming.

You know it’s fucked up but you use it anyway.

No one is perfect. I’m listening to Spotify while I write this. The CEO is famously involved in investing in AI war machines. “Hey Chat GPT, kill my enemies.”

It’s disturbing how much of our soul we have to sell in this world to play the game. Meta products, fossil fuels, big chain supermarkets… I’m not here to tell you to get off the grid and start a commune (although that does sound quite nice.)

They say there is no ethical consumption under capitalism. It’s true. But do we have to lean into the trough and chow down? Could we draw the line at how casually we use generative AI? The corporation has their boot in your back and you’re asking them to push harder as if they have your best interests in mind.

“Help me write a novel”

“Make a silly video”

“Write me a text message”

“Make me sound more genuine”

“Spell my name”

There is a Resistance Growing

Not to sound too much like a bully but we’re all talking about you behind your back about how much we dislike your brain slug.

If you post an AI generated meme on facebook, we’re talking about how ugly it is.

If your instagram profile picture is made by Chat GPT or Google Gemini, we’re not following you back.

If you’re a comedian and you’re on a showcase poster that’s been generated by AI, we’re not coming to that show.

Your soulless song sucks. Your weird video sucks. Your hollow visual art sucks. You’re not an ‘AI artist.’ That isn’t a thing.

I know it’s tough out there. Especially as a new artist but the answer is not to sell your soul to billionaires for the illusion of a fast track. These alien overlords aren’t your friends.

Next time someone on your socials posts some ugly slop, tell them their brain slug is showing.

The Comedy Writers Group

I’m two episodes into my new series directing Steph Tisdell’s new comedy festival show. I’m really proud of what we’re making and it’s a great resource if you’re interested in what goes into making a show.

What is The Comedy Writers Group? The CWG is a community of comedians from around Australia - and slowly expanding to members around the world. We have sessions every Sunday morning (AEDT) and every second Wednesday. At our workshops we’re joined by special guest professional comedians who help guide and mentor our participants.

Learn more here.

Coaching / Directing Sessions

I have a booking portal for my coaching / directing sessions. These are one-on-one appointments designed to give you customised guidance on your creative pursuit. Lately I’ve been working with folks on a range of projects from stand-up sets, full shows, novels, newsletters, comedy songs, and more.

“I’ve been doing stand-up on and off for several years, never fully committing because I always struggled to find my voice (and also maybe because of my debilitating fear of commitment). After just a few coaching sessions with Marcel, I’m more inspired, sure of myself, and have finally figured out what I want to say and who I want to be on stage, which I may never have achieved without him.”

— Amelia Fritz

Subscribe now

Hello to subscribers new and old! I’m Marcel Blanch-de Wilt. I am a freelance funny person. I’m a comedian, director, improviser, teacher, and coach based in Australia.

Welcome to my new subscribers who have deliberately or accidentally subscribed. You might have been sent here by Jess Perkins or Andy Procopis.

Let me properly introduce myself. I’m a huge comedy nerd - and just a fan of pop-culture and creativity in general. I love to connect with people and create communities. When I’m not performing, I teach stand-up, improv, and corporate performance. One of the roles I love most is coaching and directing comedians. Oh look, that was a link to book me!

This newsletter is about making comedy and how I make a living performing and teaching. I’ll tell you about my thoughts on stand-up, improv, and writing (and a lot about the person doing those things.)

See Me Live

• Catch me and wife in our improvised show The Newlyweds this Valentine’s Day in Melbourne.

• I’m MCing the Geelong Raw Comedy Heat March 7th

Performing with My Wife

I was asked recently what it’s like to have a partner in the arts. Some artists have rules against dating fellow artists. I never had such a rule. I could never afford to cut out such a large portion of the dating pool with something like a boundary. I met my wife-to-be when I was twenty years old. Imagine being twenty and being so stringent. “I simply won’t date trapeze artists, accountants, or dental hygienists.”

Even though our worlds overlap, Eleanor leans more towards acting and most of my attention is on stand-up. We converge in improv comedy where we perform together in The Newlyweds. The first question we get asked is “How Newly wed are you?” We have been married for ten years. It is a first draft name that stuck.

The vision was to follow in the footsteps of shows like The Bear Pack, Middleditch and Schwartz, and TJ and Dave. We wanted to do a piece of theatre where we played multiple characters and see if we could entertain an audience for an hour.

There were some teething issues at first. We started in 10 - 20 minute guest slots. Our initial hurdle was debriefing after a show. We were desperate to be good and found ourselves focusing on what went “wrong.” We would spend the drive home pointing out errors and hiccups that could have gone in different directions. I would say unhelpful things like “You know in that scene with the butcher, well I was going to do a funny thing but then you edited to the next scene.”

It took a few shows before we realised that this sort of debrief was unhelpful. We made it a rule to just focus on what worked. Our debrief became a highlight reel. Anything perceived as missteps were shrugged off as we would never be doing that particular show ever again.

I would find it strange when hearing about other improv teams being given very specific notes after a show. The director would spend it by telling their cast what they could have done. Well, it’s an improv show. Let’s focus on the next one, shall we?

The other challenge was my eagerness for gags. I would often disturb the momentum of a scene for a weak pun or to break the fourth wall. It took some re-wiring of my brain to recognise that I could best serve the comedy by giving myself fully to the truth of the scene. This led to some really surprising moments: huge laughs as well as moments of sadness, heartbreak, and sometimes intense violence (Eleanor once played a lion-tamer who got eaten by her lion. She played both the tamer and the lion and it was very disturbing.)

Focusing on the positives has made The Newlyweds an absolute dream. The warm-up of each show now begins with us focusing on what we loved about the last one and what our “dreams” are for this one. A dream might be as simple as “More quiet scenes” or “I want to meet a character I have never met before.”

We have received some excellent feedback for our show. We are trying our best to expand our audience and see how far we can take it. I watched Ben Schwartz and Friends at The Arts Centre and think we could be up there someday. Our mates in The Bear Pack have played The Enmore Theatre multiple times. Can we do that too? It’s something I really believe in. Our current challenge is playing all of the roles of producing, performing, publicity, alongside our other jobs.

This might be one of the more tricky areas performing with your significant other: not wanting your whole life to be about work. Getting attention in the arts is incredibly demanding. It can take up so much of your brain space. It can become the only thing you talk about. We’ve had to be mindful that we’re not all business. We’ve had to make sure not all of our holidays have a gig attached to them.

What makes it all the more challenging is how incredibly fun it is to perform alongside Eleanor. The praise we get is so encouraging and intoxicating. It makes me want to invent a million schemes to give us opportunities to perform all the time. I’m sentimental. I’m romantic. I’m optimistic. At the moment, I will just celebrate the show we have coming up.

The Comedy Writers Group

I’ve just hit 170 episodes of my podcast. On my latest episode I’m joined by Adam Bloom, author of Finding Your Comic Genius.

What is The Comedy Writers Group? The CWG is a community of comedians from around Australia - and slowly expanding to members around the world. We have sessions every Sunday morning (AEDT) and every second Wednesday. At our workshops we’re joined by special guest professional comedians who help guide and mentor our participants.

Learn more here.

Coaching / Directing Sessions

I have a booking portal for my coaching / directing sessions. These are one-on-one appointments designed to give you customised guidance on your creative pursuit. Lately I’ve been working with folks on a range of projects from stand-up sets, full shows, novels, newsletters, comedy songs, and more.

His teaching style is encouraging without being unrealistic, and he’s packed with practical techniques that I’m already using. If you’re even slightly curious about comedy, definitely check out one of Marcel’s workshops - you’ll walk away feeling inspired and equipped with real tools to develop your skills. The workshop made getting up to do stand-up very approachable and I’m so glad I did it. - Jaye

Hello to subscribers new and old! I’m Marcel Blanch-de Wilt. I am a freelance funny person. I’m a comedian, director, improviser, teacher, and coach based in Australia. If we’re just getting to know each other I want to underscore that there’s no E in Blanch and the hyphen in my name is between Blanch and de.

Welcome to my new subscribers who have deliberately or accidentally subscribed.

Let me properly introduce myself. I’m a huge comedy nerd - and just a fan of pop-culture and creativity in general. I love to connect with people and create communities. When I’m not performing, I teach stand-up, improv, and corporate performance. One of the roles I love most is coaching and directing comedians. Oh look, that was a link to book me!

This newsletter is about making comedy and how I make a living performing and teaching. I’ll tell you about my thoughts on stand-up, improv, and writing (and a lot about the person doing those things.)

The Notes Section

The half ideas and jokes that make it to the notes section on my phone

• I get precious about keeping new shoes clean because I’m traumatised by the schoolyard tradition of stomping on anyone’s new shoes until they were sufficiently scuffed. Was that an Australian-wide practice?

• I’m embarrassed to admit that I let out a little yelp in bed recently because I realised it was after midnight and I’d lost my Wordle streak. What I’m trying to say is: I guess my life is going OK if that’s what I’m upset about.

• I was watching the anit-immigration rallies and thinking about how fortunate racists must feel that the people they don’t like just happen to be responsible for everything wrong in their life. It would be like if people that watched loud TikTok videos on the train happened to be the reason why my gas bill went up.

See Me Live

• I’ll be in Auckland from the 21st - 27th. I’m running a pair of Comedy Workshops on Monday and Tuesday.

• You can catch me at The Classic in Auckland from Wednesday - Saturday.

• I’ll be performing alongside my mate Lana Walters on Sept 26th in our very own new material splitbill.

• In Sept / October I’ll be in Wellington for the New Zealand Improv Fest. Come along to my LIVE podcast on Sept 29th

Living the Dream

Every month or two I’ll travel interstate to perform some shows and run some workshops. It's nice being invited by friends to stay over but I much prefer to stay in a mid-range hotel.

"Stay with us! Save some money!"

Oh you don't understand, I appreciate the invitation but I’m not looking to save money. I'm looking for a break from people. It’s so nice to be unavailable, especially when your work is so people-focused.

Some comedians love to crash on friend’s couches or stay in the spare room of a stranger. Not for me. I’ve made a point to be successful enough to be able to afford a mid-range hotel. I’m not on Netflix and yet I feel like I’m living the dream when I check into a Quest. I pretend I’m Kevin McAllister in Home Alone 2.

I want to go unwitnessed for a few days. I want to be able to eat pizza in bed and take thirty minute showers. When I’m staying with a friend* I’m constantly thinking about not wanting to be a bother. It doesn’t matter how many times they say “Make yourself at home” I’m never going to.

I want to be able to skip morning small-talk. My brain has all the power of dial-up internet until 10am.

I want to watch the dumbest shit on TV without having to explain myself to anyone walking through the loungeroom, "Yeah, I’m watching a fifteen minute compilation of all the times Gordon Ramsay enjoyed the food on Kitchen Nightmares."

I mean, I'd love to stay at your place, but will you be there?

*To all the friends and family that I have stayed with over the years, you’re the exception. Your hospitality was very much appreciated.

Comedy Pet-Peeves: Cancel Culture

Each month I tackle a particular subject in the world of comedy that irritates me.

Every so often I’ll see someone post on socials that their show has been cancelled. Often the post will feature the word CANCELLED in big red letters across the poster. This isn’t a good look.

There are plenty of reasons why a show might be cancelled from bad weather to a double-booking at the venue. One of the most common occurrences in the world of independent artists is the show being cancelled due to low sales. This is the scenario that I want to highlight most of all.

Don’t tell all your followers that you’re cancelling your show because no one is coming. They don’t need to know. I’m not saying you need to lie to them, but there are some things you can keep to yourself. Ticket holders can be contacted by email and everyone else can go on assuming that your show was a big success.

Only a fraction of our followers are potential ticket buyers for a particular show at a particular time. Why tell all you future audience members that your event failed to attract enough interest? That sort of stuff follows you around like a bad smell. People remember that sort of thing and, unfortunately, talk about it behind your back.

I’m not saying you only need to post your wins to social media. I love when people are honest and frank about their artistic pursuits but if you’re in the business of selling tickets, perhaps reconsider broadcasting how few people are interested in coming along to your show.

The Comedy Writers Group

I’ve just hit 150 episodes of my podcast. This week I’m joined by Gen Fricker and we have a great chat about her return to stand-up.

What is The Comedy Writers Group? The CWG is a community of comedians from around Australia - and slowly expanding to members around the world. We have sessions every Saturday morning (AEST) and every second Wednesday. At our workshops we’re joined by special guest professional comedians who help guide and mentor our participants.

Learn more here.

Coaching / Directing Sessions

I have a booking portal for my coaching / directing sessions. These are one-on-one appointments designed to give you customised guidance on your creative pursuit. Lately I’ve been working with folks on a range of projects from stand-up sets, full shows, novels, newsletters, comedy songs, and more.

His teaching style is encouraging without being unrealistic, and he's packed with practical techniques that I'm already using. If you're even slightly curious about comedy, definitely check out one of Marcel's workshops - you'll walk away feeling inspired and equipped with real tools to develop your skills. The workshop made getting up to do stand-up very approachable and I’m so glad I did it. - Jaye

Recommendations

Watch: I watched The Naked Gun remake and had a blast. It’s great to watch a comedy at the cinema although similar to my experience watching Friendship, the rest of the audience was a little quiet. It didn’t wreck the vibe but it can feel a little alienating when you’re laughing the loudest or (in the case of Friendship)all on your own. After the session a stranger saw me taking a photo of the poster and asked if I liked it. I said he would if he enjoyed the original. “I’m a bit too young,” he replied. The guy was like 30. Too young? It’s a MOVIE. You can go and watch it. Also, I don’t know you. I have no idea what you might like.

Hello to subscribers new and old! I’m Marcel Blanch-de Wilt. I am a tall person although I’ve met taller people. I’m a comedian, director, improviser, teacher, and coach based in Australia.

Welcome to my new subscribers who have deliberately or accidentally subscribed.

Let me properly introduce myself. I’m a huge comedy nerd - and just a fan of pop-culture and creativity in general. When I’m not performing, I teach stand-up, improv, and corporate performance. One of the roles I love most is coaching and directing comedians. Oh look, that was a link to book me!

This newsletter is about making comedy and how I make a living performing and teaching. I’ll tell you about my thoughts on stand-up, improv, and writing (and a lot about the person doing those things.)

The Notes Section

The half ideas and jokes that make it to the notes section on my phone

• Your brain must be so confused when you try and recall a dream. I woke up in the middle of the night to wee and wanted to hold on to the dream I was having so I could go back to it but it was drifting away so quickly. My brain was prioritising the waking world. I suddenly pictured the Pixar characters in my brain madly packing up the dream factory while they’re getting signals from me to start it all over again.

• I found 4 Nut Muesli at the supermarket the other day. I didn’t buy it. No muesli is THAT GOOD.

• I wish I had the confidence of a sultana. They assume they're wanted everywhere.

See Me Live

• Marcel & “Friends” returns to The Improv Conspiracy this Saturday the 16th

• I’m running a stand-up workshop for beginners in Canberra on Aug 29th

• The workshop will have a show the next night with a headline set from me on Aug 30th

• In September I’ll be in Auckland performing alongside my mate Lana Walters on Sept 26th

• In Sept / October I’ll be in Wellington for the New Zealand Improv Fest. Come along to my LIVE podcast on Sept 29th

Anxiety is My Co-Author

I was listening back to a recording of a show of mine from early 2024. I was looking for jokes I might like to bring back into the rotation.

I wrote the show before I was diagnosed with ADHD. Anxiety and depression are close cousins of ADHD. Often it can lead to a misdiagnosis. When I started medication I was surprised to find how much my anxiety shifted. It didn’t disappear but the volume was certainly turned down.

Anxiety is a compelling co-writer. It’s great at inventing fictional scenarios, heightening, and hyperbole. I didn’t always quite grasp how present anxiety was writing alongside me.

Some artists, especially comedians, are hesitant to get therapy or take medication because they’re afraid that it might change their output:

“I’m nervous I won’t be funny any more”

“Sure, I have depression but check out all this material I have about being down all the time.”

The show that was co-authored by anxiety was called Let Me Eat Cake. It was about my love of treats and how difficult it can feel to deserve a treat when the world is on fire, the rent has gone up, and the bank account is dwindling.

There’s a lot of decent jokes in the show that in theory I should be able to use in short sets but I’m having a hard time identifying with that version of myself. Here’s one of the jokes:

I hate cafes that close at 3 but start packing up at 2. It’s hard to enjoy your coffee and cake while chairs are being stacked around you. Because as we all know the universal signal for ‘get out’ is cleaning up.

If you have guests overstay their welcome at your house, you start tidying up. If that doesn’t work, you start getting ready for bed, if that doesn’t work, you go to bed…

The joke comes from an intense sensitivity I have to being in situations where I feel unwelcome. It’s all in my head. The cafe is open. The opening hours are clearly stated online. Transitions are just very difficult for someone with ADHD so if you’re going to get settled into writing at your table, it feels particularly disruptive when you feel like you might get tapped on the shoulder at any moment by the wait staff.

Lately I have found myself in similar scenarios and asked the barista behind the counter “When do you close?” This might sound obvious but that’s anxiety. It’s never actually a big deal. The voice in my head just makes me think it’s a big deal. “They’re packing up, Marcel. Don’t get comfortable. You’re in the way. They want you to go.”

Comedians are actors. We have to pretend to acutely feel the emotion behind the joke to sell it effectively. The challenge I have returning to this old material is that I have a hard time identifying with that version of me. It’s not just the medication. There’s the environmental factor too. When I wrote that show I was wondering when, if ever, I was going to have financial and residential stability.

I’ve met those comedians who don’t want to go to therapy or get medicated because they’re nervous about how it will affect their creativity. They’re a similar brand to the struggling artists afraid of becoming too successful in case people think they’ve become a sell-out. I admit that it’s confronting to have to familiarise myself with a new interior monologue but it’s much better than the alternative.

I have to wrap this up, the cafe is actually closing.

Comedy Pet-Peeves: How To Book A Line-Up

Each month I tackle a particular subject in the world of comedy that irritates me.

You’ve decided to run a regular comedy night at your local pub. Where to start?

Who Is Your Audience?
If your answer is ‘everyone’, try again. No business tries to cater to everyone. Who are the regular patrons of the venue? Who lives in the surrounding neighbourhood? Those demographics should be reflected in your line-up. Think about age, gender, sexuality, disability, race, culture, for starters. Audiences love to see themselves reflected on the line-up and it makes for a much more dynamic show.

How Many Comedians?
A showcase line-up is usually between six and eight comedians. This means the show should run for two hours max with a ten to fifteen minute break. Ninety minutes - even better! Leave your audience wanting more! The same goes for open mics. Do you really have to put everyone that turned up on the show? Three hours of amateur comedy? Who wants that?

The Host
Book an experienced MC. The host is one of the most important roles. They are the first impression for the crowd and therefore one of the key things to get right. You will also have to have the guts to make sure the MC nails their job by properly outlining your expectations. Some MCs with inflated egos will take advantage of inexperienced room runners and make the show all about them, go way over time, and wreck the vibe for everyone.

How To Find Comedians
Connect with an experienced comedian who has a strong understanding of the local comedy scene. Do not make a general call-out on facebook for comedians unless you are booking a free open mic night, even then be wary about giving everyone a spot. It can make for a pretty bland line-up if you do a first come-first served approach.

Booking a Headliner
If you want to book a headliner, make sure you book someone up to the job. Go out to shows and find comedians you think will suit your particular show.

Establish a Brand
If you want to run a comedy night that will attract return customers, your job will be to ensure strong quality control and a clear idea of what audience members can come to expect each time they attend your show. If the quality or vibe of your line-ups are dramatically inconsistent then it’s likely that people won’t come back.

And One More Thing…
Stop booking line-ups of just dudes. It’s boring and unimaginative. I see so many booked showcases of six - eight comedians and they all look the same. By eight comedians you should have accidentally booked a woman in that time.

The Comedy Writers Group

We’re celebrating 250 members at The Comedy Writers Group. I built this community to make the pursuit of comedy a little less lonely. With this new milestone, our members have plenty of good company.

What is The Comedy Writers Group? The CWG is a community of comedians from around Australia - and slowly expanding to members around the world. We have sessions every Saturday morning (AEST) and every second Wednesday. At our workshops we’re joined by special guest professional comedians who help guide and mentor our participants.

Learn more here.

Coaching / Directing Sessions

I have a booking portal for my coaching / directing sessions. These are one-on-one appointments designed to give you customised guidance on your creative pursuit. Lately I’ve been working with folks on a range of projects from stand-up sets, full shows, novels, newsletters, comedy songs, and more.

“Marcel has a special knack for finding out what you really want to say. He can look at an idea and help you discover more about it, ask the right questions and even say "maybe that's not really worth exploring"... He's an honest, approachable and enthusiastic director. He covers off on all bases too – structure, jokes, the theatre of it all. He'll make you feel proud of your work.”
- Lizzy Hoo

Recommendations

Watch: I recently caught up on Mike Birbiglia’s latest special on Netflix. It’s expertly structured as usual. He’s always my benchmark for brilliant pacing and storytelling. I also adored the latest Fantastic Four movie. It was right up my alley.

Listen: I was lucky enough to be a guest on one of my favourite podcasts Do Go On with Dave Warneke and Jess Perkins. Every episode someone delivers a topic in the manner of a school report and it’s always hilarious. I talked all about the Alien franchise and it was a blast. Find it on your podcast app.

Subscribe now

Hello to subscribers new and old! I’m Marcel Blanch-de Wilt. I am a tall person although I’ve met taller people. I’m a comedian, director, improviser, teacher, and coach based in Australia.

Welcome to my new subscribers who have deliberately or accidentally subscribed.

Let me properly introduce myself. I’m a huge comedy nerd - and just a fan of pop-culture and creativity in general. When I’m not performing, I teach stand-up, improv, and corporate performance. One of the roles I love most is coaching and directing comedians. Oh look, that was a link to book me!

This newsletter is about making comedy and how I make a living performing and teaching. I’ll tell you about my thoughts on stand-up, improv, and writing (and a lot about the person doing those things.)

The Notes Section

The half ideas and jokes that make it to the notes section on my phone

• So many comedians love to talk about the tension in the room when they do edgy jokes that don’t get a laugh by saying “I can feel everyone’s buttholes tightening.” Stop it. It’s gone beyond cliche. You don’t know what everyone’s buttholes are doing. The only thing you know is that no one is laughing and it’s not because they’re offended, it’s because they’re still waiting on the punchline.

• I’m flossing so much before my next dentist appointment because I’m desperate to prove my gums don’t always bleed at the first touch of a dental implement. I swear they do it on purpose just to make you feel bad.

• Older people are so quick to downplay your experience of aging. “You feel old? Try being seventy!” Well, this is the oldest I’ve ever been. It feels significant to me. It’s like I’ve just seen a magpie for the first time and they’re shouting back, “You think that’s something? You should see an emu!”

See Me Live
I’m coming to the Big Fork Improv Festival in Brisbane
You can also catch me at Good Chat Comedy Club

Comedy Pet-Peeves: Stand-Up VS Improv

Each month I tackle a particular subject in the world of comedy that irritates or intrigues me.

As a stand-up comedian and improviser, I walk between two different worlds. I’m like Blade. The Daywalker. Except instead of being half-vampire half-human, battling against demonic forces, I am a performer hungry for stagetime, keen to do all the shows.

Recently in Sydney I did a week of gigs and was reminded of how much lighter I feel at improv shows. Your average Stand-up and Improv Show have plenty in common but have quite distinct cultures around them.

I’ve had the benefit of learning from both worlds. Today, let’s look at what stand-up comedians could learn from the world of improv.

6. We’re Not Cool

Stand-ups tend to roll their eyes at improvisers. I’ve performed on mixed bills that feature stand-up and improvisers and watched as the comics cringed at the improv ensemble warming up before the show. They’re the jocks in the schoolyard giggling at every “ZIP ZAP ZOP” they overhear. Improvisers have a reputation of being dorky and lame.

Improv has this cringey reputation because it’s full of grown adults playing pretend. These people have paid thousands of dollars to attend classes to develop skills in not worrying about how they look when they’re making stuff up. It is in improv’s dorkiness that leads to more carefree creation.

The average Stand-up comedian, meanwhile, projects this cool leather-jacket-wearing vibe. They’re ego-driven and judgemental. Their heroes rest their arms on mic stands, smoking cigarettes “telling it like it is.” They believe that stand-up is COOL. Stand-ups try to pretend that they’re not just as dorky as the folks doing The Harold or playing TheatreSports. They don’t want you to figure out that a stand-up set is just little one person play. It’s all theatre.

The problem is that this focus on looking cool leads to quite a rigid performance. The cool comedian takes less risks. It took me a long time to be comfortable with not looking cool in the eyes of my fellow stand-ups. One of my favourite improv teachers told the class we need to remember “we’re not here because we’re cool.”

Comics spend hours working on stories, puns, observations, and songs. They read all the books and study all the greats. We’re all dorks. I suspect that the more stand-ups lean into the inherent silliness that is being on stage and pretending, the more carefree creativity we’ll be able to enjoy.

5. The Value of a Warm-Up

Before the show improvisers will have a warm-up that is a mix of games and exercises to get them in the zone. Personally, I find that some improv groups that I perform with have such elaborate and intense warm-up sessions that I’m tired before the show even begins.

Having said that, a warm-up is such an important practice for a performer. Every other kind of performing artist and public speaker will warm up before a show but it’s very rare to catch a stand-up comedian doing anything to resemble a physical or vocal warm-up.

It might sound odd but I’ve had to practice being brave enough to warm-up backstage at stand-up gigs. Comedians are so quick to judge someone working hard before a show. Just like Tall Poppy Syndrome, you can’t look like you’re trying. It should all look effortless.

Every stand-up who has messed up a word on stage and had their whole joke fall apart as a result should try a vocal warm-up to engage their articulators. Every comedian who holds back on physical comedy or act-outs should experiment with a physical warm-up to get in their body.

4. It’s a Team Effort

Improvisers perform as a group and thus there’s an understanding that we’re all working together to create the best show we can. Even when stand-ups perform on a line-up, there’s often an ‘everyone-for-themselves’ attitude. There’s no guarantee that your fellow acts will be engaged with the show or watch your set.

More often than not, comics will wait backstage or in the bar until it’s their turn to perform. It’s fair enough. There’s only so many times you want to watch the same material. The problem is that it leads to awkward moments where audience members get crowdworked multiple times or similar topics are covered without it being addressed. It leads to a show with little cohesion.

The best stand-up shows are the ones where the line-up is engaged with the show and be across all the details. Unfortunately, these are a rarity. So much of this comes down to the culture of the particular stand-up night. For the open mic I used to run, comedians were encouraged to be part of the audience and it made for a much better night.

3. Cast Photos

I love to get a family photo of the line-up of the performers I’m on with. I’m a sentimental guy. It’s a ritual to get a photo after an improv show. It becomes the memory of the night. Like a postcard from the past. On this night I got to perform with this group of people.

Meanwhile for stand-up shows it’s so hard to get the whole line-up in the same room at the same time. Acts are often keen to leave after their set (I don’t blame them, most shows aren’t worth sticking around for.)

Often when I try to take a group photo at a stand-up night I feel like my mum at a family barbecue trying to wrangle everyone. “Can we just get one nice one where it looks like everyone had a nice time?”

2. Check ins and Check Outs

Each improv theatre has its own culture but, generally speaking, each of them will have a “Check In” and “Check Out” before and after the show. It’s a chance for the ensemble members to introduce themselves, connect, and address anything they would like to share that might impact the show (injuries, energy levels, preferred styles of play.)

The Check Out is an opportunity for everyone to share something they enjoyed from the night. It’s a moment that I love because it takes me out of my head, wondering about how the show might have gone differently, and instead focusing on just the positives. The goal with my Check Outs is to make sure everyone leaves feeling good about their performance and able to leave any doubts about the show behind.

Stand-up showcases differ wildly. Some nights you might be on with friends who are invested in what you’re performing and how it went. Others will have an air of indifference.

I’m not saying that stand-up nights should start and end with everyone backstage in a circle but it does make a big difference when you can tell that the peers you’re performing alongside give a shit about your performance. “I liked that new joke” or “Great work tonight” goes a long way in a scene full of people looking at their phones, their nose in the notebooks, or ducking out early with a wave. In this modern world of chasing dopamine and likes on the internet, it’s nice to take a moment to help someone feel seen.

1. Have More Fun

Improv shows are rarely paid. A paid improv show is even more rare than a paid stand-up gig. Even the best improvisers can’t expect high paying gigs on a regular basis. The improviser's main motivation is to have a good time and make the best possible show.

When I’m doing an improv show, I’m not thinking of getting a great clip for social media or how a new joke is going to go. I’m only thinking about how much fun I can squeeze out of the experience with the audience right in front of me. Generally speaking, improvisers are less ego-driven and their focus is on making their scene partner shine.

When I’m improvising, my inner-child comes alive and I’m at my most playful. I’m overjoyed and so grateful to be able to goof around with my friends and the audience. It’s an energy that I try to bring to all my stand-up shows. I want my audience to know that I don’t take them for granted and that I’m so thrilled to be able to make a show together.

The Comedy Writers Group

This July / August we’re hosting TWO Winter Writers Retreats! One in Queensland and another the following weekend in Victoria. It’s very exciting to have fostered a community so keen to connect and create. If you’re not a member and interested in hearing more, send me an email or follow the link.

What is The Comedy Writers Group? The CWG is a community of comedians from around Australia - and slowly expanding to members around the world. We have sessions every Saturday morning (AEST) and every second Wednesday. At our workshops we’re joined by special guest professional comedians who help guide and mentor our participants.

Learn more here.

Coaching Sessions

I have a booking portal for my coaching / directing sessions. These are one-on-one appointments designed to give you customised guidance on your creative pursuit. Lately I’ve been working with folks on a range of projects from stand-up sets, full shows, novels, newsletters, comedy songs, and more.

“Marcel has a special knack for finding out what you really want to say. He can look at an idea and help you discover more about it, ask the right questions and even say "maybe that's not really worth exploring"... He's an honest, approachable and enthusiastic director. He covers off on all bases too – structure, jokes, the theatre of it all. He'll make you feel proud of your work.” - Lizzy Hoo

Recommendations

Watch: You’ve got to go watch my mate Kate Dolan’s new special on Youtube. She is fantastic.

I’ve just finished the latest season of The Rehearsal. It was one of the best TV shows I’ve ever seen. It reminded me of how much care, love, and substance, can be in something so funny.

Read: I’m currently reading I’m Glad My Mom Died and it’s an excellent read. Highly recommended. The writing is so frank and it’s brilliantly paced. I also finished Michelle Brasier’s fantastic My Brother's Ashes are in a Sandwich Bag.

Hello to subscribers new and old! I’m Marcel Blanch-de Wilt. I have a long fancy name. The first part is French and the last part is Dutch. The middle? I don’t know. I’m a comedian, director, improviser, teacher, and coach based in Australia.

Welcome to my new subscribers who have deliberately or accidentally subscribed.

Let me properly introduce myself. I’m a huge comedy nerd - and just a fan of pop-culture and creativity in general. When I’m not performing, I teach stand-up, improv, and corporate performance. One of the roles I love most is coaching and directing comedians. Oh look, that was a link to book me!

This newsletter is about making comedy and how I make a living performing and teaching. I’ll tell you about my thoughts on stand-up, improv, and writing (and a lot about the person doing those things.)

The Notes Section

The half ideas and jokes that make it to the notes section on my phone

• Oh man, I got trapped on a train-replacement on Monday night. I was squished into a bus with train people. Train people were never meant to be this close to each other. The bus driver then went wildly off-course and had to be redirected. He had the nervous vibe of someone who had been snatched off the street by government agents and told to drive the bus or else he’ll never see his family again. It took two hours to get home. Sometimes I think I might still be on that bus and this is all a dream.

• I went to TWO destination weddings this month. They both required a flight, hire car, one had an extra shuttle bus but it was all worth it for the little shout-out. The little shout-out from the married couple for “everyone that travelled to be here today” makes it all worthwhile. Every time I elbow my wife and whisper “That’s us!”

• On my most recent flight I told the person in front of me to not to recline his seat. He immediately apologised and moved his seat forward. Afterwards my wife told me that it was “really sexy” when I told him off. It was a lovely compliment until I remembered that she has also witnessed me squeezed into a seat on an economy seat, crushed by the guy in front, on an international flight on our honeymoon. What was she thinking that whole time? “Is this who I married? Can this guy not sit up for himself?”

See Me Live

I’m about to go on tour across Victoria as part of Melbourne International Comedy Festival Roadshow! Check out the shows here.

Quick Crowdwork Tip

I’m getting back in the headspace to MC ten day’s worth of shows. I love hosting shows and I’ve become very particular with how I approach each performance. Here’s a quick tip for any public-speaking scenario where you’re engaging with the audience: repeat what the person said to the rest of the crowd.

So often I see seasoned comedians forget this essential element. They ask someone a question in the front row. The audience member responds but they’re not mic’d up so they can’t be heard from the back. The performer and the front of the crowd can hear and they laugh, the performer responds with some witty retort, meanwhile we have no idea what the guy in the first row initially said. Everyone but that pocket of the audience feels left out.

Repeating what the person said back to the audience is helpful in many ways. It buys you time. It creates tension for the response. It gives you a chance to think about how you’re going to respond. Sometimes you can even get a second laugh just from relaying the information to everyone else. It can also be super handy for clarifying what you think you heard. You’re amplifying that audience member and they’ll probably feel looked after as a result.

Whether it’s in meetings, stand-up nights, weddings, whatever, make it a habit and it will pay off in a big way. It works for hecklers too!

Comedy Pet-Peeves: Talking to Performers After A Show

Each month I tackle a particular subject in the world of comedy that irritates me.

Whether it’s a play, poetry night, or stand-up show, we’ve probably all had the experience of going to see a friend’s performance and had to navigate what to say to them afterwards. Even if you enjoyed the show it can be tricky to know what to say, especially for the socially awkward or anxious types like me. It’s especially difficult when the show was lousy or the performer was having a bad night.

Here’s a handy guide to Talking to Performers After a Show

Let’s start with the sorts of things to avoid if it was a bad night.

• “The people around me weren’t into it at all… but I liked it!”

• “Are you OK?”

• “It sounded way worse than it was”

• “I loved your energy!”

• “Wow, I loved the lighting”

• “Sorry we came in late”

• “The parking was terrible”

• “The drink prices here are terrible”

• “Is the heckler part of the show? That was my favourite part.”

• “I think someone walked out”

You might have guessed that these are all things that I’ve heard or overheard. My favourite one was after a show all about my move to Melbourne and how I now lived in Melbourne. A friend asked me in the bar after the show, “So where are you living these days?”

It can be super awkward to come up with something to say after a show especially if it wasn’t great. I’ve been guilty of ghosting performers after shows and sending a cheeky text message instead: “Loved the show, had to run!” Please note that if you have received one of these from me, you are the exception. I actually did love the show. My wife and I have left plays at the interval. Sometimes life is too short.

Let’s break down the two main scenarios:

Step #1: If You Liked The Show
- “Congratulations!”

Step #1: If You Didn’t Like The Show
- “Congratulations!”

You might have noticed a subtle commonality between both scenarios. Even if the show was subpar or not to your taste, it’s always great to open with a congratulations. Getting on stage is hard. It’s vulnerable and mentally taxing. Starting with a recognition of the hard work is a great place to start. Your friend is full of all sorts of chemicals post show. They’re delicate.

But what now? What if you have to make conversation with the performer? What do I say next?

Step #2: If You Liked The Show
- “How do you feel?”

I like this option because often performers don’t know what to do with a bunch of compliments or statements. If you shower them compliments you might find yourself running out of steam very quickly and not getting much in return. Ask them questions. They’re probably very keen to share how they felt on stage. It also gives them the option to take the conversation any where else if they’d prefer not to talk about the show.

A lot of the time I’m keen to chat to my friends about them since I’ve been the one doing all the talking for the past hour.

Step #2: If You Didn’t Like The Show
- “How do you feel?”

Noticing a pattern? (I’m questioning if I’m a robot all of a sudden since I’m mapping out how to have a human interaction. Maybe my brain chemistry lends itself to this way of thinking. If this is all obvious to you, then you’re one of the rare people that don’t make after-show interactions awkward.)

If you’ve noticed that both scenarios have the same first two steps, you’d be right! You deserve a prize of some kind. Asking a performer ‘How do you feel?’ after a less-than-stellar performance in your opinion puts the ball in their court. You’re about to discover if they had the same experience as you. You might be surprised to find that they had a really good time and that this particular night didn’t stick out as bad as you thought. Maybe they weren’t as bothered by the noise of the dishwasher, or the disruptive latecomers as you were. Maybe it’s the last thing they want to hear.

I realising that this whole piece has been a lesson in small-talk. I’ve found recently that questions are a brilliant tool to avoid awkwardness when scrambling for the next thing to say. Being equipped with good, open questions makes a big difference in that ‘stage door’ moment.

Finally, if you stick around for a drink, let the performer help determine how much they want to talk about the show. Sometimes you might get some juicy behind-the-scenes goss, sometimes you might get some interesting insights into how the show came together, but often they might prefer you taking the mic for a while.

The Comedy Writers Group

This July / August we’re hosting TWO Winter Writers Retreats! One in Queensland and another the following weekend in Victoria. It’s very exciting to have fostered a community so keen to connect and create. If you’re not a member and interested in hearing more, send me an email or comment on this post.

What is The Comedy Writers Group? The CWG is a community of comedians from around Australia - and slowly expanding to members around the world. We have sessions every Saturday morning (AEST) and every second Wednesday. At our workshops we’re joined by special guest professional comedians who help guide and mentor our participants.

Learn more here.

Coaching Sessions

I have a booking portal for my coaching / directing sessions. These are one-on-one appointments designed to give you customised guidance on your creative pursuit. Lately I’ve been working with folks on a range of projects from stand-up sets, full shows, novels, newsletters, comedy songs, and more.

“Marcel has a special knack for finding out what you really want to say. He can look at an idea and help you discover more about it, ask the right questions and even say "maybe that's not really worth exploring"... He's an honest, approachable and enthusiastic director. He covers off on all bases too – structure, jokes, the theatre of it all. He'll make you feel proud of your work.”
- Lizzy Hoo

Recommendations

Watch: As part of my burn-out rehab, I’m trying to watch a lot more movies. Especially at the cinema. I absolutely loved Sinners. For a genre movie, it was so bold and inventive. There’s a musical sequence in the middle of the movie that is a big swing but they get away with it because it’s pulled off so well.

On the subject of popcorn movies, Thunderbolts* has restored some of my faith in Marvel blockbusters. It actually had a storyline and themes! Imagine! I think one of my favourite sub-genres might be ‘team of misfits having to resolve their differences and work together’ so it was right up my alley.

I recommend The Wild Robot to everyone with a beating heart. It’s on Netflix and it’s beautifully made. Do yourself a favour. Spoiler-alert: I’m just now realising that it might be the same sub-genre as Thunderbolts*.

Hello to subscribers new and old! I’m Marcel Blanch-de Wilt. I’m a comedian, director, improviser, teacher, and coach based in Australia.

Welcome to my new subscribers who have deliberately or accidentally subscribed.

Let me properly introduce myself. I’m a huge comedy nerd - and just a fan of pop-culture and creativity in general. When I’m not performing, I teach stand-up, improv, and corporate performance. One of the roles I love most is coaching and directing comedians. Oh look, that was a link to book me!

This newsletter is about making comedy and how I make a living performing and teaching. I’ll tell you about my thoughts on stand-up, improv, and writing (and a lot about the person doing those things.)

The Notes Section

The half ideas and jokes that make it to the notes section on my phone

• Remember when getting in trouble was the worst thing that could happen? I feel like I grew up constantly on guard for getting in trouble. Trouble came in three forms: regular trouble, big trouble, and the worst kind: deep trouble.

• Idea for World Peace? In my house if there was ever a big fight, the TV would be turned off. I think the world leaders should turn off the world’s TV until everyone works out their differences.

• Do you ever feel unconfident about remembering someone’s name that you sort of whisper it? I’ll greet someone with a loud hello and then their name will be a tenth of the volume just in case I’ve gotten it wrong. It’s so quiet it’s almost imperceptible. Like, they know I’ve said a name but they couldn’t tell whether I said their name. The perfect crime.

See Me Live

Melbourne: The Newlyweds, my improvised show with my talented wife, is back for one-night-only this Saturday the 26th of April. Would love to see you there.

Back to Burnout

Good news and bad news!

My wife has returned from a five-month contract. We visited each other every two to three weeks but it was a long period to be apart for most of the time. We have a cuckoo clock in my house. I inherited it from my Oma. It has a little bird that pops out and everything. Eleanor is the only one who has learned how to wind the clock. When she’s away the clock doesn’t tick. When she returns time resumes.

Last year I got burnt out. I promised myself that it wouldn’t happen again. I treated the Christmas break as some sort of magic fix-it like so many of us do. Our capitalist culture says, “Here’s your little break, now back to work.” I told so many people the last few months that I was trying to avoid burning myself out again. Like it was a distant thing behind me.

The challenge is that I’m my own boss. I’m celebrating that most of my work these days is self-generated. I feel very proud of myself. The problem is, it means I’m in my boss’s company all the time. Even on holiday.

So I shouldn’t have been surprised that I went from watching entire films (with subtitles!) in January to endlessly scrolling TikTok in March. I thought I was doing so well! I was even reading before bed like a grown-up.

To be fair to myself, I got sick. Sickness throws me off my game. Late March I was hit with a bad case of gastro. It was terrible. Even worse, I think it was because of something I cooked myself. I don’t know what was worse, the constant time on the toilet, or having to throw away a whole tray of delicious (but potentially highly volatile) left-over roast chicken.

Recovery from the gastro left me feeling empty (and multiple kilos lighter! Who needs ozempic when you can just want to die for a full weekend!) A short time after getting on my feet, I got sick again. This time it was a weird little fever that sent me to bed for three days. It was then that I had to face up to the fact that I was burnt out. It had snuck back up on me. Burnout has this special skill to be especially stealthy. I was suddenly thinking back to days off that I had skipped over, promising that I would have a break later. Now here I was getting sick twice in just a few weeks as if my body was saying, ‘Would it really be the worst thing for you to lie down for a bit?’

A day before getting sick I cried on the toilet after watching a TikTok video that talked about ADHD’s relationship with burnout. I didn’t know there were different brands of BO. The most confronting detail was that when you’re experiencing burnout you stop having fun. Here I was just trying to distract myself on the toilet when I was suddenly confronted by a deep truth. I watch TikTok for the escapism interspersed with intense political news. I didn’t sign up for this. It was like watching a kids movie that makes you sob unexpectedly (I cried in the latest Ninja Turtles movie.)

The video was right though. I used to play videogames to unwind. I hadn’t played anything in months. The PlayStation and the Switch were gathering dust. I love going to the movies, I hadn’t been in weeks and the last time I went was to see Captain America 4 which was disappointing. Why couldn’t I pick up my Switch and play Balatro? The answer was obvious. I was back in burnout. Burnout 2: 2 Burnt 2 Out.

The good news is that I’m feeling so much better. It’s been a few weeks since feeling my worst. I’m being diligent about falling back there again but having my wife home has meant that I’m feeling much lighter. Not being by myself makes such a huge difference. I don’t have to walk the dog every morning and night. I’ve felt so much freer. I didn’t realise how bound I felt to the schedule of a three year old Maltese mutt. Also having someone else around means I’m on my phone a lot less which lessens the chance of encountering any more confronting TikTok videos. Did you know that it can trick you into thinking you’re getting dopamine but instead fills you up on worthless junk dopamine? Guess where I learned that.

Fortunately despite the hurdles I’ve had some excellent times this month. I was able to watch multiple shows at the comedy festival that I directed which was tremendously satisfying. I hosted three live podcast episodes. I want you to know, dear reader, that I’m doing OK. I want my family to know that I’m taking care of myself, and I want my future clients that I’m available for bookings!

Burnout left me feeling dull and grey. To be sick and burnout left me in bed staring at a screen with very little joy and colour in my day. I don’t want to go back. I don’t want you to go there either. I’ve talked to a lot of folks about their burnout experience and I think we all need to be courageous enough to speak about the realities of biting off more than we can chew. We need to recognise our own limitations and give ourself the grace required to make it through our days while still finding fun.

I’m mapping out time to rest and a little holiday on the horizon. I don’t want to be writing another newsletter about burnout. The silver lining is that the only way I can write about burnout is because I’m currently recovering from it rather than being deep in it. I’ve picked up the Switch again too. I played Balatro and I had fun.

Authors note: Between writing this and editing it, I have fallen ill again. Just a minor sinus thing but has still lead to me writing this from bed. Good grief. NOT BACK IN BURNOUT THOUGH!

Comedy Pet-Peeves: Speak For Yourself

Each month I tackle a particular subject in the world of comedy that irritates me.

You know when you speak in second person because you want the audience to relate to what you’re saying to them?

It’s a classic approach to comedy and communication. Cliches like ‘You ever noticed…?’ or stories that make you the main character, ‘You know when you’re walking down the cereal aisle and you’re looking for a particular brand…’

You know, there’s nothing wrong with this approach. You might find it can be a very effective way to connect. You’re asking for the audience to relate to your experience. The issue you find, however, is that some comedians are assuming that everyone has had the same experience as them. Speaking in second person has this peculiar presumptive effect. It leads to situations where the comic on stage is painting a picture of something that may have a very narrow amount of relatability.

“You know on Christmas, when your parents would get so drunk that they would forget where they hid the presents?”

“You know when you’re at a cafe and you’re too anxious to walk over to the display cabinet because you’re nervous you won’t want anything but you’ll feel obligated to still look interested? You’re like ‘What if there is actually something good this time?’”

Sometimes it can fun to embrace how unrelatable your experience by speaking in second person. Alt comedians, and weirdos love to embrace this sort of alienation.

“You know when you’re at a pedestrian crossing and someone else turns up and they press the button even though you were already there so clearly you must have already pressed the button but they do it anyway, which is like totally street cucking you, and you won’t stand for that so you have to confront them on the street or else lose all your street cred?”

For the most part, I’m encountering comedians with material that would be better served swapping the “YOU” for “I”. What happens to the material when it becomes a first-person story? Here’s something that happened to me rather than here’s something all of us have experienced.

There might be a hesitancy thinking that if you delete the word “YOU” that the audience will no longer have their invitation to relate to the bit but think of all your favourite books and shows. Do they have to be framed in second-person for the audience to be able to relate to the characters?

I witness so many comedians checking in with their audience to see if they relate to the material. I’ve talked in the past about how relatability is overrated. Audience members will either relate or they won’t. It won’t make a difference whether the bit is funny or not. You don’t need to pause and check in - sorry – I don’t need to pause and check in to see if anyone is relating to the bit, I just have to communicate it effectively so the audience can connect with it.

There’s no hard and fast rule for using second or third person. Sometimes it can be handy to use a combination. You can start with your opening line in second-person and do the rest of the bit in first. It’s all a bit of an experiment. I find it fascinating in comedy that one small variable change like changing the perspective can make all the difference.

The Comedy Writers Group: Happy Third Birthday

This month we’re celebrating three years of The Comedy Writers Group. I made a cute little collage of our members to mark the occasion. I am so thrilled to have so many brilliant members. There were so many of them performing at the MICF and cheering each other on from the audience. It was very heartwarming. I feel thrilled to play a role in so many comedian’s stories.

What is The Comedy Writers Group? The CWG is a community of comedians from around Australia - and slowly expanding to members around the world. We have sessions every Saturday morning (AEST) and every second Wednesday. At our workshops we’re joined by special guest professional comedians who help guide and mentor our participants.

Learn more here.

Coaching Sessions

I have a new booking portal for my coaching / directing sessions. These are one-on-one appointments designed to give you customised guidance on your creative pursuit.

“Marcel has a special knack for finding out what you really want to say. He can look at an idea and help you discover more about it, ask the right questions and even say "maybe that's not really worth exploring"... He's an honest, approachable and enthusiastic director. He covers off on all bases too – structure, jokes, the theatre of it all. He'll make you feel proud of your work.”
- Lizzy Hoo

Recommendations

Watch: As someone getting more and more disappointed by Marvel movies, I’ve been really impressed by the latest season of Daredevil. For a Disney show it actually feels sort of transgressive? Is that so bold to say? My favourite comics were always the ones that commented on society and there’s something satisfying seeing Matt Murdock standing up to a power-hungry politician. It’s a nice little power fantasy compared the harsh cruelty of reality. More superheroes punching bad guys please. Just for a little bit of escapism.

In an effort to have what’s known as a ‘day off’, I took myself to the movies to see Black Bag knowing little about it besides it being well-reviewed by friends on letterboxd. It was a great time at the movies. Very satisfying.

Hello to subscribers new and old! I’m Marcel Blanch-de Wilt. I’m a comedian, director, improviser, teacher, and coach based in Australia.

Welcome to my new subscribers who have deliberately or accidentally subscribed.

Let me properly introduce myself. I’m a huge comedy nerd - and just a fan of pop-culture and creativity in general. When I’m not performing, I teach stand-up, improv, and corporate performance. One of the roles I love most is coaching and directing comedians. Oh look, that was a link to book me!

This newsletter is about making comedy and how I make a living performing and teaching. I’ll tell you about my thoughts on stand-up, improv, and writing (and a lot about the person doing those things.)

The Notes Section

The half ideas and jokes that make it to the notes section on my phone

• On the first day visiting Brisbane I got food poisoning. This newsletter is brought to you by Gastro-Stop. Gosh it feels good to be out of that bathroom. I feel alive.

• Wasn’t it amazing when you were a kid and there was always something to look forward to? School holidays, the next Spider-Man movie, your birthday… As an adult it feels like these moments are fewer and far-between with diminishing returns like your birthday or the next Spider-Man movie.

• Get rich quick scheme? Stop using air-freshener if you live alone. Who are you trying to impress? Your dog?

See Me Live

BRISBANE: I’m doing shows in Brisbane this week including my very own solo show at Big Fork on Saturday. I’m also running a pair of workshops this weekend: Building Your Solo Show From Scratch and Taking Your Improv to The Next Level. All the links can be found here.

CAIRNS: I’m in Cairns for one-night-only at Laughing Heart on the 17th. Would love to see you there.

MELBOURNE: I’m hosting LIVE episodes of my podcast, The Comedy Writers Group at the Melbourne International Comedy Festival.

Comedy Pet-Peeves: Offensive Comedy

Each month I tackle a particular subject in the world of comedy that irritates me.

"I want to tell this joke but I don't want to offend anyone"

This is something that I hear on a regular basis from comedians that work with me. Most of my working life these days is workshopping jokes with comedians. I love it. Every now and then we’ll get onto the topic of ‘offensive comedy.’

I’ve avoided the discourse of “offensive comedy” because it is littered with lame, luke-warm takes. So many folks are yelling online that ‘You can’t say anything’ these days when you most certainly can. The worst people are being given the biggest platforms because the algorithm loves outrage. Offensive Comedy has become almost meaningless. It’s become synonymous with comedy that is not ‘politically correct’ or ‘woke’, which are also terms that seem to have lost all meaning.

What I’d love to focus on is a phenomenon that has come up a few times for me lately with comedians I’ve been working with. Before they pitch me their joke they’ll say, “I don’t want to offend anyone.”

It's totally valid to not want to upset anyone in the audience who might feel like your content hits close to home but it also shouldn't stop you from sharing your story. Your story is yours to share.

It’s a noble trait to not want to be upsetting or off-putting. After all, despite what myths you might hear on the internet about comedians being modern-day philosophers or that it’s a comedian’s job to “get in trouble”, our primary job is to be entertaining and funny.

Having said that, I love comedy that has substance. Comedy that has texture, personality, and depth. Comedy like the work of Laura Davis who will regularly explore challenging subject matter like the ridiculousness of existence. Michelle Brasier is another great example. She often talks about mortality and the fragility of life.

How can you bring up these sorts of potentially disturbing topics in the age of trigger warnings? Aren’t we supposed to warn the audience if there might be something that disturbs them? As Michelle says at the start of her book:

‘There will be no trigger warnings. I cannot possibly know what is going to upset you - Khloe Kardashian is afraid of whales - but I hope something in here makes you feel something.’

I thought it was a fascinating thing to read from a comedian who has such a massive heart. I thought we all decided to be careful about upsetting content? The doors of so many venues at comedy festivals will feature a list of content warnings so audiences can make informed decisions. Michelle seems to be aware of how limiting it will be for her to share her story if she has to continually pause to hold the reader’s hand. Picture your favourite works of art: the books, the paintings, the movies. Did they consider how every individual might feel before they made it?

I get all that, Marcel… but I still don’t want to upset anyone. I want it to be funny.

If you know that your subject matter is going to be challenging for an audience then that should encourage you to make it as robust as possible. Make it good! Don’t be boring! A common example is comedy about life and death.

But who am I to talk on that subject?

One of the best ways to approach these sorts of topics is demonstrating to the audience why you have license to talk on that particular subject.

There's a difference between a “cancer joke” and an "I have cancer" joke, or a "My family member has cancer" joke. There's a difference between a “shit joke” and a "I shit myself joke" or a "My family member shit themselves" joke.

Your lived experience is yours to share. If you don’t have lived experience on the subject then you might want to reconsider why you’re tackling that particular topic. You’re totally welcome to, you just have to think of a clever way in; a neat justification.

Of course you might be a one-liner comedian who wants to be shocking. That’s not who this essay is about. I’m talking to the comedian who is trying to be delicate in their subject matter. The comedian who wants to talk about touchy subjects and get out unscathed.

It’s worth highlighting that sometimes an audience SHOULD to be offended or uncomfortable. I once had a comedian I was working with concerned with not offending any men in the audience. She was telling stories about shitty men in her past and didn’t want the blokes in the audience to feel like she was talking about them.

I told her not to worry. Some audience members, like men, can stand to be a little uncomfortable every now and then. I wanted her to speak honestly about her experience and not to hold back. Not every piece of comedy should be made palatable for every audience member. That's a fast way to make some very bland art and remove the TEETH from your work. If a comedian on stage is talking about awful behaviour they’ve experienced and you take it personally, that is not their fault. Go to therapy. We get it, you’re one of the good ones. It’s weird that you had to shout that out in the middle of a show.

Some comedy works best when it's offensive, uncomfortable, alienating, or disturbing. These ingredients can help to create tension. The more tension, the bigger pay-off. It’s an incredible moment when a comedian can make an audience uncomfortable one moment and cracking up the next. It’s important for comedians to expose themselves to all sorts of different approaches to storytelling and performance styles so they can understand all the ways an audience might be manipulated. Go see a clown show and how they mess with tension or attend a Samuel Beckett play and pay attention to the weird and alienating elements of absurdism.

Now you’re name-dropping Beckett? We get it, you have a theatre degree. I still need to know how to not upset anyone.

If you’re wondering if your joke might be offensive, you might consider who is the butt of the joke. Who are you making fun of? We hear a lot of discourse about punching down versus punching up. I was chatting to my wife recently on the subject and she put it even simpler, she said “Next time someone wants to do a joke on a touchy subject where they’re cautious not to be offensive, just say ‘What’s funny about it?’”

Uh oh. Umm… it’s funny because… well…

A common trope for stand-up comedians is to make fun of a suburb in a lower-socio economic area. Another one is to make fun of people on Centrelink or people with mental health issues on public transport. I’m not telling you avoid these subjects. A lot of comics have built entire careers doing jokes on these topics. A lot of audiences adore these sorts of jokes. “Tell us again about the poor people!” I don’t want to get in the way of your lucrative career, it’s just not really to my taste.

If you want to do cheap jokes at someone else's expense, you have to be prepared to pay for it. By all means do your broad jokes about the poor, crime-ridden towns, there just might be people that don’t like it.

Consider these questions. Are you bringing much more to the table than "People from suburb X are poor"? Is there more depth or dimension to your joke than ‘A homeless guy with mental health issues said something weird on the tram’?

Well, no… but I’m a good person so I don’t want people to think I’m mean.

Consider what happens to your joke when you give it some dimension. What insights can you bring to the table? Maybe you have lived experience living in those sorts of suburbs. Maybe you can relate to the person on the tram so this isn’t an ‘us’ versus ‘them’ situation. If you’re going to be judgmental and kick shit on people, make sure some of the shit comes back on you too. Audiences love it when you remind them you’re not perfect either.

Another worthwhile approach is to use primary resources. What happens to your material if you swap out “All boomers are morons” to “My dad is a total moron.” Now your dad becomes representative of a group. You’re not claiming to know it all just that you have authentic, lived experience.

Make fun of the awfulness of the welfare system rather than the unfortunate individuals who are down on their luck. When you paint with such a broad brush, the audience is often going to pull back. You can’t finish each bit with, “I’m only joking. You’re allowed to laugh” or “I’m allowed to say that because…”

Remember you can't control how every audience member is going to respond. It’s great that you don’t want to upset anyone. Let that inspire you to avoid bland, overdone topics.

You know what's really offensive? Bad comedy. Lazy comedy. Hack jokes with obvious punchlines that we've heard too many times. Write stuff that's unique to you and your experience. I’m tired of two-dimensional jokes with nothing of interest to offer. Those comedians are the ones that require a trigger warning.

Trigger warning: This comedian has put little to no effort into this show.

Trigger warning: You’ve heard all these jokes before.

Trigger warning: This comedian will yell at you for not laughing.

Trigger warning: This comedian will accuse you of being triggered when you don’t laugh.

The Comedy Writers Group: Join the Community

This month we’re celebrating three years of The Comedy Writers Group. We’ve recently moved to having online meet-ups every Saturday and every second Wednesday.

What is The Comedy Writers Group? The CWG is a community of comedians from around Australia - and slowly expanding to members around the world. We have five online meet-ups a month ranging from workshop sessions, Q & As, and group writing time. At our workshops we’re joined by special guest professional comedians who help guide and mentor our participants.

Learn more here.

Coaching Sessions

I have a new booking portal for my coaching / directing sessions. These are one-on-one appointments designed to give you customised guidance on your creative pursuit.

Recommendations

Listen: This newsletter was brought to you by the music of Solar Fields. Really great background music for writers. Thanks for the recommendation, Zoe.

Watch: I loved Roy Wood Jr’s special on Disney+. He’s one of my favourite comics and he just gets better and better. It’s a great example of a special where he digs deep into one particular subject across the show. Super funny and beautifully put together.

Hello to subscribers new and old! I’m Marcel Blanch-de Wilt. I’m a comedian, director, improviser, teacher, and coach based in Australia.

Welcome to my new subscribers who have based on a recommendation from one of my friend’s wonderful newsletters like Steph Broadbridge or The Improv Chronicle.

Let me properly introduce myself. I’m a huge comedy nerd - and just a fan of pop-culture and creativity in general. I’m a freelancer so it means I wear a lot of different hats - not to be confused with the literal hats that I’m also known to wear. When I’m not performing, I teach stand-up, improv, and corporate performance. One of the roles I love most is coaching and directing comedians. Oh look, that was a link to book me!

This newsletter is about making comedy and how I make a living performing and teaching. I’ll tell you about my thoughts on stand-up, improv, and writing (and a lot about the person doing those things.)

The Notes Section

The half ideas and jokes that make it to the notes section on my phone

• Is my Gmail schedule send fooling anyone? Do you think people believe I’m absolutely crushing it when they receive an email from me at 8am? Do they think I must be at my desk bright and early after pilates and a green smoothie or is it obvious that I sent it from my couch at 12:05am? Maybe I should schedule it for 8:04am to throw them off the scent.

• I hope “AI generated” becomes a slur in 2025. Hearing about how much of a drain things like Chat GPT are on the planet is our “Soylent Green is people” moment and no one cares because they need AI to write their emails and make funny little memes.

• I’ve started raw-dogging my dog walks. This is an example of a sentence where the final word has a huge amount of impact. The sort of sentence where the listener is holding their breath to the final word. But also it’s a real thing I’m doing. I’m trying this new thing where I don’t entertain my brain 100% of the time with podcasts and music. It’s giving me time to think (horrifying.)

See Me Live

I’m doing some drop in spots in Canberra next week on the 22nd and 23rd.

My improv show Marcel & “Friends” returns to The Improv Conspiracy in Melbourne on Feb 1st. It’s part talk-show, part improv masterpiece. The cast features Damian Callinan, Orya Golgowsky, Rik Brown, and Steph Crothers. Tickets on sale now.

Ask Questions: How Podcasting Has Made Me A Better Conversationalist

How was your chit-chat over the festive season? How was it catching up with work mates when you returned to the office? If you’re dreading that next dull conversation, I would love to equip you with a few tools for your next challenging convo.

I recorded 59 episodes of my podcast The Comedy Writers Group last year. I interviewed stand-up comics, improvisers, directors, filmmakers, and authors. Some of them were friends, some were acquaintances, and a few were complete strangers. The podcast is designed to be a deep-dive into comedy nerdery. We get into the weeds to chat about comedy, how people make comedy and how they make the pursuit work for them. The goal is to provide folks with a resource to shed light on how things work in an industry where it can get pretty lonely and confusing sometimes.

The conversation is allowed to be indulgent, given the audience is mostly made up of comedians and the comedy-curious, but it can never be boring. I am a team of one. I am the editor, producer, and talent (and what a talent.) I have limited editing time. I can’t spend hours looking for the best bits. Instead, I have to edit in real time. I have to ensure there’s rarely a dull moment. I ask open questions and listen intently to the answers for where to go next. Attending improv classes helps with this a lot.

I love a chat. I love a chin-wag. I love connecting with people. This doesn’t mean I’m the sort of person to turn to someone on the train and strike up a conversation. No thankyou. On NYE a kind man in his fifties on the platform at Kings Cross complimented my colourful shirt then proceeded to ask about my night. I was pleasant of course but I also used all the power of my body language to communicate to him “My new years resolution is to avoid talking to strangers.”

An organised chat, however, is a delight. To know that there is a social contract that we’re going to be here and the goal is to hang out, get to know each other, have a laugh, and maybe learn something along the way, is a great feeling. I spent most of my high school years trying to find a group to hang out with, so to know that I can book someone into the podcast studio for some regimented socialising, really puts my neurotic inner-child at ease. “Hello, you don’t know me but can we hang out between the hours of 11am - 12pm please?”

This year I’ve run a lot of classes on public speaking, persuasive communication, storytelling, and networking. I encounter a great deal of folks who struggle to talk. What I notice at the heart of so much of it is that people don’t ask questions.

Have you ever met someone at a party that you thought was incredibly charming? Chances are all they did was ask questions about you and (this is important) listened to the answer and (this is also important) didn’t cut you off when you went into detail.

Have you ever caught up with an old friend for coffee and left the cafe realising they didn’t ask anything about you the whole time? It hurts! It shows a lack of interest and curiosity. Some people think they’re asking questions when in reality they have asked something uninspiring like ‘How was your day?’ or ‘What have you been up to?’ These sorts of questions invite tiny responses because they don’t show genuine interest. I bet many of you left holiday catch-ups never having a conversation with any depth or dimension.

Finding questions that show genuine interest in my guests go a long way. My mum complimented me on the podcast and said that I must do a lot of research. The truth is that I do enough. Enough to get started. The rest can be achieved with two magic words: “Tell me…”

“Tell me” is a beautiful invitation to get a guest to monologue on a subject. So many people outside of the podcast studio environment are afraid of talking for too long (which can be as little as twenty seconds for anxious people) but I’ve found that “Tell me” is a fantastic way to encourage someone to luxuriate in the topic. “Tell me about where you grew up” is superior to “Where did you grow up?” “Tell me about the show you’re working on?” is way better than “What is the show you’re working on?” It’s subtle but makes a huge difference.

I could spend the rest of this newsletter listing all sorts of questions that I think are richer than the everyday questions we hear. When you return from a trip someone might ask “How was the holiday?” which to me translates to “Give me a one sentence response that encapsulates the entire thing.” I prefer questions like, “What was one of your favourite meals?” It encourages them to not give a stock answer and I get to hear two of my favourite words in response, “Great question!”

I’m not going to list more questions, instead I’m going to encourage and entreat you to simply do this: show interest. Be interested, intrigued, and curious about who you’re talking to. I’m tired of having dull conversations. I’m tired of talking to people and leaving with little to show for it. Did they learn about anything me? Did we truly ‘catch up’? Did we share a laugh? Get a recommendation for something to watch or read that I’ll be excited to follow up on?

When you hear someone’s story that it releases the bonding chemical oxytocin. It’s the same one that gets released when we hug someone. I’m dying for my oxytocin in my life. We’re so disconnected in most of our day-to-day routines that a conversation with questions, interest, stories, sharing, can be such a gift to someone. There’s a loneliness epidemic happening across the world. Next time you have a conversation with someone, ask them a question and make it a good one. You might be giving them a warm hug that they sorely need.

The Comedy Writers Podcast is available everywhere and I have a few episodes available to watch on Youtube.

The Lost Toys

I found myself getting nostalgic heading to my hometown of Adelaide for Christmas.

I had this massive collection of soft toys down the end of my bed. Plush toys. Stuffed animals. There was this great big clown among them that they sat around. I loved them. I didn’t have pets (or more accurately, any that stuck around for very long) and my brothers were too old to play with toys. The soft toys were my buddies. I would talk to them before bed. Give them personalities. Mostly the soft furry ones. Not so much the clown. The clown was just there as a sort of load bearing, structural support.

One of my favourites was this soft toy called a Puggle. They were from a shop called The Lost Forest. It was Australia’s answer to Beanie Babies or Build-a-Bear. It felt like it was designed by a less talented Jim Henson on a tight budget. The whole store was designed to appear like a magical world where these creatures lived. There was a soundtrack of animal sounds, dim lighting, and all sorts of different characters displayed on trees and in burrows like you were visiting their natural habitat. Their natural habitat also had a cash register in the middle. The creatures all had expensive price tags. It was the sort of shop that we would visit to look at stuff but very rarely to buy anything. We didn’t have much money growing up so when you got a gift that you knew was expensive, you would treasure it all the more.

When you bought a Puggle, they would put it in a little bag and send it down a slide like you were adopting it, or maybe more accurately, stealing it away from its family and friends. Mine had a little hoodie. It was cool. It had a bit of attitude. I gave it a name that’s lost to me now. I loved my Puggle. It was such a normal thing to love an inanimate thing as a child.

When I was around twelve they all got stuffed into a garbage bag when we moved house. It was the time to put away childish things and grow up. It was time to make space for cool teenage things. Honestly, I still loved them and didn’t want to get rid of them but everyone around me was telling me it was time. I was a soft boy™ who loved soft toys. A boy couldn’t be seen to still be treasuring the company of woodland creatures.

They were all donated.

I’m 36 years old and I’ve found myself missing those soft toys. I’m jealous of the people that can still visit their childhood home that exists as a monument to their childhood. I don’t know if they recognise what a remarkable thing it is to be able to return to something so formative and see it from a different point of view. The ability to open up boxes like you’re a museum curator giving a tour of the archives. “This is my exercise book where I wrote my first story. This toy was my first treasure that belonged to just me.”

At the end of Toy Story 3, Andy donates his toys and drives away, knowing that they’re going to be valued by someone else. I cried when the toys were almost incinerated but I cried even harder at this moment thinking about losing all my toys that I loved so much. Andy introduces each of the toys to Molly as friends rather than things. I attached so much meaning to my toys and then they were discarded because of space and time. The cruelest thing is that you never know their true value until twenty years later and you’re thinking how nice it would be to hug something so familiar. To be able to embrace your childhood self.

If Andy feels anything like me, Toy Story 5 will be his quest to recover all his toys in an attempt to feel like a kid again. Maybe he’ll make peace with the idea that we don’t have to pretend that our childhood toys suddenly lose all meaning. I look around my flat in Melbourne and realise I have no relics, no artefacts, no significant items from my childhood. I looked on The Lost Forest website for my Puggle. They don’t sell the one in the hoodie any more. He’s gone.

I’ve since thrown away a lot of things from my childhood. I’ve thrown away my school books and all sorts of drawings and artwork. I was moving to Sydney and it felt ridiculous to lug books to another state where I would have nowhere to store them. I was also just exhausted by the concept. It was impractical. Was I going to keep my school stuff under my bed? There’s no room for that when you have to make room for grown up things like work shoes and a big tub for tax documents and your passport and a bunch of bits of paper that seem pretty official so better not throw away. I came up with a neat solution. I would take photos of all the things on my phone. Take a photo, throw the thing away. I have since lost that phone. I never transferred the photos. They have all gone to The Lost Forest too.

The Comedy Writers Group: Join the Community

For the last few months. I’ve been very busy organising The Comedy Writers Retreat. We’re spending the January long weekend writing, doing workshops, and hanging out with excellent people. Find out more here. There’s a few tickets left.

What is The Comedy Writers Group? The CWG is a community of comedians from around Australia - and slowly expanding to members around the world. We have five online meet-ups a month ranging from workshop sessions, Q & As, and group writing time. At our workshops we’re joined by special guest professional comedians who help guide and mentor our participants.

Learn more here.

Coaching Sessions

I have a new booking portal for my coaching / directing sessions. These are one-on-one appointments designed to give you customised guidance on your creative pursuit.

Recommendations

Listen: If you’re all caught up on my podcast, The Comedy Writers Group then I’d highly recommend the David Sedaris episode of Mike Birbiglia’s podcast, Working it Out.

Watch: I loved Nate Bargatze’s new special on Netflix. He’s always so brilliant at getting big laughs in a seemingly effortless way. He’s one of my favourites.

I’m a big comedy nerd. I’m a freelancer so it means I wear a lot of different hats - not to be confused with the literal hats that I’m also known to wear. When I’m not performing, I teach stand-up, improv, and corporate performance. One of the roles I love most is coaching and directing comedians.
This newsletter is about making comedy and how I make a living performing and teaching. I’ll tell you about my thoughts on stand-up, improv, and writing (and a lot about the person doing those things.)

The Notes Section

The half ideas and jokes that make it to the notes section on my phone

• Does anyone else get excited when they see their birth date in the wild? You might see a poster for a concert and they’re playing on your birthday. My kid brain can’t help but shout “That’s my birthday!”

• Why do so many dude podcasts frame their videos at crotch height? Get a desk or something, please.

• A guy sitting next to me on the flight to Sydney complained that he had waited twenty minutes for his toastie to arrive. For nineteen of those twenty minutes, the pilot had turned on the ‘Fasten Your Seatbelts’ light. Obviously that shouldn’t get in the way of a man and his Jetstar toastie.

See Me Live

My improv show Marcel & “Friends” returns to The Improv Conspiracy on Dec 7th. It’s part talk-show, part improv masterpiece. The cast features Honor Wolff (Hot Department), Ash Apap, Ed Chalmers, Belinda Anderson-Hunt, and Reeni Inosha. Tickets on sale now.

Why Do I Feel Good?

I’ve taken to writing reminders to myself on my fridge. Mostly motivational stuff but some quite simple things too. I have quite an easy time forgetting things if they’re not written down. My fridge is getting covered in reminders written in whiteboard marker. I’m like if the guy in Memento - what’s his name? I’m guessing Mr Memento - I’m like if Mr Memento had ADHD and issues with motivation. In October I wrote on my fridge, ‘In order to do your best, you must rest.’

Long time readers may recall that I felt a little delicate last month. I’ve found the word ‘delicate’ to be an incredibly helpful word to describe myself when I’m not necessarily sad, depressed, or unhappy but also not jubilant, energetic, or enthusiastic. I believe the corporate jargon is: ‘at capacity.’

This month I’m feeling much better. A lot of that is down to my wife returning from a three month cruise contract. I don’t want to sound over the top, but I love my wife. She’s really great. I also had the good fortune of spending a week away celebrating the tenth birthday of Improv Theatre Sydney. It was a week of friends, performing, learning, eating, all that good stuff. I realised my October ‘diet’ had not been a healthy one.

Another whiteboard note is a reminder of my good mood diet: eating well, hydration, exercise, proper sleep. It feels strange to have to write these sorts of things down. Another one was a reminder from Trevor Noah: “No one does anything alone. Everyone who has ever climbed Everest had assistance.” We keep ignoring the sherpas don’t we?

My wife Eleanor told me that one of our housesitters had taken one of my fridge quotes as her mantra. My first thought was that my whiteboard reminders are private. My second was that I might have been better served using a journal. My third thought is that I would have forgotten it if it was in a journal.

I asked my wife what quote she was talking about. She said it was ‘In order to do your best, you must rest.’ I can’t remember where I got the inspiration. I think I might have made it up in a moment of desperation. Past Me trying keenly to remind Future Me to take it a little easier.

I was a little chuffed that my single line poem had been inspirational. It’s not a bad reminder. I said to my wife, “That’s a pretty good one. But I can’t help but wonder what how her life would be if she borrowed another one of my fridge reminders that I wrote after a regretful late night uber eats: STOP EATING FRIED CHICKEN. THE DOCTOR TOLD YOU TO LOSE WEIGHT.’

I mean, it doesn’t even rhyme.

A Poem About Elevators

I hold my breath in elevators

I stare forward in elevators

When I’m in an elevator with friends I speak as if nothing has changed

Even if we’re joined by someone we’ve never met

As if we both haven’t stepped into a confined space with a stranger

This will be temporary

Like all things

Sometimes you’ll talk to a stranger on an elevator accidentally

Sometimes it will be deliberate

But it was your dog that made the introduction

(I wrote this at Comedy Writers Group)

Improv Pet-Peeves: Stop Doing the Pineapple Show

Every month I discuss an element of comedy that irritates my pedantic brain.

Most improv starts with the performers on stage asking for a word from the audience. This word is designed to inspire the improvisation. As my improv teacher Matt Higbee in Chicago told me, the suggestion from the audience is just there to prove that we didn’t plan it backstage.

It’s the same reason we were encouraged to go with the first word we hear from the audience. The idea being that we’re not ‘waiting’ or ‘searching’ for the ideal bit of inspiration. Grabbing the first word we hear and turning into made-up magic should prove to the crowd that we can make anything from even an ordinary suggestion.

One of the most common suggestions from the audience is ‘pineapple.’ My theory is that the first word that pops into people’s minds is ‘apple’ because it’s the first word in the alphabet book. They then decide that it would be too ordinary so decide to jazz it up with something a bit more tropical. The perfect crime. Their subconscious has provided the perfect solution, not knowing that they are the millionth person on the planet to call it out to a team of improvisers exhausted by hearing about that spiky exotic fruit.

The issue isn’t that we hear the same suggestion from the crowd. The issue is that we keep seeing the same scenes as a result of it. The audience member calls out PINEAPPLE and the first actor walks on stage selling pineapples or eating a pineapple pizza. Shortly after another scene where a character complains to their mum about cooking with pineapple. Then another and another.

One of the best pieces of advice I received from Higbee, who remains one of my favourite improv teachers, is that we’re supposed to get the suggestion and then get away from it. See where it can take us. We’re not supposed to validate the suggestion by seeing scene after scene about the same topic. We’re supposed to show the audience what that single word inspired. He talked about how common it is to get the suggestion of ‘dildo’ as the first thing heard from the crowd. The sort of thing that most performers would ignore (as they have every right to do.) He said that he would take that suggestion and make the best damn show he could out of it.

In my own practice I will show the audience that I have taken their suggestion and then I will make the show that I want to make with the people I’m playing with in the moment. If the word is pineapple maybe I’ll set a scene on a beach. Maybe I’ll drink a cocktail. Maybe I’ll play a character with an allergy or a spiky personality who’s sweet on the inside. I never need to say the word back to the crowd. They know it. It’s actually more satisfying for them to watch the show and wonder how the suggestion is being integrated. I’ve never had an audience member raise their hand during the show and say, “This is great but when are you going to eat a pineapple?”

If you want to avoid pineapples in your life, you might like to give your audience more interesting parameters. Some ensembles will say something like ‘A word starting with B that isn’t food.’ Already they will be interesting territory. I love getting lyrics, phrases, or something more abstract. They’re more subjective and open to interpretation. I want to make something that I haven’t performed or seen before. I’ve done The Pineapple Show enough times.

The Comedy Writers Group: Join the Community

The Comedy Writers Group continues to grow and I’m very excited to announce that our Comedy Writers Retreat is now on sale! We’re going to Bundadoon for three nights of workshops, performances, and writing time. Find out more here.

What is The Comedy Writers Group? The CWG is a community of comedians from around Australia. We have five online meet-ups a month ranging from workshop sessions, Q & As, and group writing time. At our workshops we’re joined by special guest professional comedians who help guide and mentor our participants.

Learn more here.

Coaching Sessions: Black Friday Sale

My coaching sessions are on-sale for a limited time only. Follow the link to get as much as a 50% discount on my coaching sessions.
Here are some testimonials:

“I just did my session with Marcel and it was SO HELPFUL. He's so good at breaking stuff down and helping make it clear and easy for the audience to get on board with you etc. I'm always amazed by how skilled he is at this stuff.” - Katie Eyles

“I came into my one-on-one with Marcel with lots of brain vomit. Lots of ideas with no structure. Marcel helped me shape my ideas and find my authentic voice. I have since reworked my five mins, got up and got instant feedback from the audience. I have a clear idea of what I need to work on and how to turn my 'funny thoughts' into clear, concise comedy gold.” - Shelly

“As a newbie to comedy, Marcel has a warmth and knowledge that immediately puts you at ease . No question is too big or too small! He also gave some great insights on material I had been working on and ways on how to develop it. We also worked on setting goals for the future. I left feeling so much more confident when it comes to writing and performing” - Mary Ann

Recommendations

Listen: You can hear me on Mish And Zach's Leguizamarama! this week. It was a real treat to be in their company. Also, my podcast The Comedy Writers Group is now available on Apple Podcasts!

Watch: I watched Day of the Jackal on my birthday. I didn’t want to watch the remake without having seen the original. It’s a confusing movie because it’s set in France but everyone has British accents. I also loved Rachel Bloom’s Death Let Me Do My Special. It’s such a great combo of stand-up, songs, storytelling, and theatre.

Subscribe now

I’m a big comedy nerd. I’m freelance so it means I wear a lot of different hats - not to be confused with the literal hats that I’m also known to wear. When I’m not performing I teach stand-up, improv, corporate performance, and one-on-one mentoring.

The Notes Section

I don’t feel particularly funny this month - which is tricky since this newsletter primarily exists to promote my live shows and encourage folks to book me as a mentor or director. I’m sick in bed and found myself writing for hours. Stuff I decided I wanted to get off my chest. I also wanted to practice what I preach. I tell comedians that I coach that:

• Not everything has to be funny

• Practice being vulnerable

• Try new things

So that’s what I’m doing. I wanted to let you know how I’m doing, sick in bed. I promise it won’t be very funny.

See Me Live

Before we begin, I want to tell you what’s coming up:

I’m in Adelaide this Thursday at The Rhino Room. I would to see you there. 7pm. Tickets here. You can get half-price tickets with the codeword TREAT.

I’m bringing back Marcel & “Friends” to The Improv Conspiracy on Nov 9th. It’s part talk-show part improv masterpiece. The cast features Bron Lewis, Hannah Camilleri, Rik Brown, and Eleanor Stankiewicz. Tickets on sale now.

The Newlyweds are making their long-awaited return to Sydney on November 14th as part of the ITS Comedy Festival. Book now.

Ask For Help

One of the themes of my coaching sessions lately has been encouraging comedians to ask for help. If you have a goal or a dream, have you told people about it? Have you asked your peers if they might be available to help make it a reality? Chances are there are folks out there that would love to be involved. It might be shooting a sketch, starting a comedy night, writing a screenplay, or countless other things. We can either sit alone with our challenge or we can be brave enough to wave our arms around and say, ‘Can someone help me with this?’

I had a tough start to the week. I was feeling exhausted and not recognising that I needed more rest. I was ignoring all the advice on burnout that Scout Boxall had given me on my podcast. I was trying to do some work from home and my dog would not stop barking. He would bark a dogs barking in the neighbourhood, shadows on the ceiling, and his favourite: nothing at all.

It was making it very challenging to get anything done. I was already tired and now I was emotional. Later I would connect how the ADHD brain hates flow being interrupted but all I was thinking in this moment is that I wanted to cry. I felt helpless.

I stopped my day to have a big cry. As I cried I listed all the reasons why I was crying. Each reason is a log on the fire. Men need a good reason to cry. Let’s get practical. I won’t list all of them here but one of them was how I felt like no one I knew could help me with the dog. I needed someone to walk him on the weekend when I was stuck at work and the first two friends I had messaged were busy.

I let that become the narrative. I’ve asked two people and they said ‘no’ so therefore it stands to reason that no one in the world wants to help me. I realised I needed to give myself a taste of my own medicine. I’ve been telling all my clients that it’s OK to ask for help. Actually, not only is it OK to ask for help, but let’s be honest, it’s the main way that anything gets done. It’s so much harder to go it alone but a lot of people choose this path either out of not giving themselves permission to ask or because they’ve trapped themselves in a narrative where they’re isolated.

I gathered myself and messaged a third friend. I told him I needed a dog walker and how I would I owe him one and he told me exactly what I needed to hear: ‘I can do that. No worries.’

I told him that it he had made my day and that it was a huge help. He told me it was no big deal. But it was a huge deal. I had gone from feeling alone in the universe to feeling totally supported. I just had to ask a third person.

It was a good cry. I feel better for it.

Things I Know To Be True

I was raised to believe that you shouldn’t litter, talk with your mouth full, and that Nazis were bad. I was raised on a diet of Spielberg movies and hearing about my Opa’s time imprisoned in Auschwitz. There’s a comfort knowing that particular things have an objective truth. Not just what you believe to be true, but a deeper, human truth. 

• Don’t run with scissors

• Genocide is no good

• Don’t interrupt people when they’re talking

No one follows the rules any more. No wonder people are despondent. No wonder people feel hopeless. I’m not just talking about the law. I’m talking about certain understandings, expectations, rules, human ideals like: 

• Thank the bus driver 

• Don’t drive and drink drive

• Help your mum bring the groceries in 

Lately it feels like everyone is just doing their own thing. The nay-sayers will say it’s always been this way. That doesn’t mean we can’t try and advocate for change. For instance, I drive on the freeway. There are these signs on the side of the road. They’re numbers in a red circle. It tells me to drive at a particular speed. I was told when I learned to drive that I’m supposed to match the number in the red circle to my speedometre. I look around at the other motorists and they have all decided to ignore that rule. Maybe they know something I don’t? 

• Cover your mouth when you cough or sneeze

• If you make a cup of tea, offer everyone else in the house a cup of tea

• Don’t litter (cigarette butts count as litter) 

I walk my dog every day. Every day I see people with their dog off-lead on city streets or in parks that have clear signs that say ‘Dogs must be on leash.’ I see the smuggest pricks who walk along with their free range pup as if the rules don’t apply to their dog. Do we need the signs to address them by name? Dogs Must Be on a Leash. This includes you Dianne I’ve started speaking up in these situations. I’ve become one of those people. I’ve got to protect my dog because my dog can be reactive and doesn’t like being approached by random dogs. I announce calmly ‘Please call back your dog. My dog doesn’t like other dogs.’ The other day, when a couple walked along the street with their two medium sized dogs ten metres out on in front of them, I said, in the most deadpan, matter-of-fact tone I could muster, ‘Your dogs are supposed to be on a leash.’ 

They replied, ‘We know.’ 

• Don’t murder kids

• No glass around the pool 

• Racism is bad

Fascinating! To know you’re breaking the rules but to go on doing it. Because there’s no penalty! People smoke in non-smoking places. Raspberry vape in a restaurant from a fellow diner. The most annoying sounds at full volume from a phone on a train. No one speaks up for fear of appearing like a ‘total Karen’ or that person snapping back even though they’re the one who has done the wrong thing. Israel bombs children and world leaders shrug their shoulders. We raise our hands like a meek student in class to ask the teacher, ‘Excuse me sir, I thought the rules said we shouldn’t do that’ and we are reprimanded for speaking up. Then of course there’s the whataboutism when someone in the comment section points out all the other wars and conflicts going on as if that means our argument that child murder is bad is no invalid.

• Don’t rob people

• If someone cooks for you, you should wash the dishes

• Don’t cut in line

I would love to think there might be hope for the world to feel less hopeless if we all started speaking up about the little things so that we might be able to feel more courageous about the big things too. I think we’re all so collectively tired and strung out. Covid taught the world that hundreds of thousands of people can die and life will just go on. Covid taught us that countless people could perish or be scarred with chronic conditions and your fellow man will see it as an imposition to wear a mask to look out for you. 

• Wash your hands (properly)

• Ask your friends how they are and listen to the answer

• Tell people when they have something in their teeth

Maybe we all just need some little wins? If I can get the dog owners in my neighbourhood to put their dogs on a leash maybe we can feel a bit more capable in reducing the amount of plastic we consume? Maybe if we have the guts to draw a line and say, ‘Hey mate, turn the volume down on your phone’ then we can also have the guts to speak up to people in power who endorse the great evils in the world. 

Why do we love movies like Paddington? I would say it’s because that little bear is full of humanity and a desire to connect. He is that innocent inner-child that sees the best in people. He hasn’t become downtrodden by the world, he’s full of optimism. He wants people to be friends. We cry watching these movies because they remind us of our deepest desire to just be ourselves together. We tell each other how these movies make us cry but I wonder how often we talk about why they made us cry. I watched Inside Out 2 last night and it felt like I was crying out of grief. Grieving for a kid that sacrificed so much of his belief system to fit in. 

• Stand to the left on escalators 

• Wear deodourant 

• Don’t block the thoroughfare on footpaths 

The belief system. Things we know to be true. Inherent truths. Rules. Understandings. How can we feel any sense of stability when these keep changing on us? Midnight Oil has been standing up against inherent truths like racial inequality and pollution since 1976 and we have all sung along. ‘Beds Are Burning’ plays on car stereos as people blare their horns at protestors holding up traffic. People yell in the comment section that protests should be allowed to happen but only at scheduled times and out of the way so they don’t disrupt anything. 

• Don’t lie 

• Save room for dessert 

• Wear sunscreen 

I feel like there is a great effort to make us feel powerless. Disconnected. I have so much respect for all the protestors out there, making their voice heard. I see my friends like Sarah Bartolo joining the marches and sharing great resources on their instagram stories. God knows I don’t do enough. I do my best to stay informed. I love listening to great brains like James O’Brien. I love that he’s so intelligent and always focuses on the facts. I love that he gets people to define their terms rather than escape behind buzz words. I’ve loved the interviews from Ta-Nehisi Coates on his book tour. One of my favourite shows is Media Watch because it holds the powerful accountable. How are we supposed to hold the powerful to account if we can’t speak up for ourselves in the little moments? 

• Looting and polluting is not the way 

• Don’t kill kids 

• War is bad

I think the best thing that we can all do at times like these is to find our communities. Find our people. Make it all less lonely. Connect and reconnect with friends. Make new ones. There’s so many resources out there to meet people. Volunteer. Go to a board game meet-up. Join an improv class. Join a social sports team. Join a running club. Attend a dance fitness class. Get connected. Be part of something. 

Stand-Up Pet-Peeves: Comedians in the Audience

Every month I discuss an element of comedy that irritates my pedantic brain.

There are some unspoken rules when it comes to crowdwork that if you should only talk to strangers, you shouldn’t talk to friends and you certainly shouldn’t talk to comedians. I remember first encountering this at an open mic in Adelaide where I started out. The guest MC was from interstate and was chatting to audience members and discovered that he was chatting to one of the comics who was on that night’s line up. The MC blurted out, “You’re a comedian! I can’t talk to you” and then moved along. 

But why is it forbidden? One reason is that it can read as false or inauthentic for a comedian to crowdwork another comedian (it sounds almost incestuous. Wasn’t it somewhere in the Bible?) The audience might think it was planned ahead of time. Another reason might be that comedians understand the moves and might not enjoy being on the other end of the transaction. 

The problem, however, is that there will always be gigs where they’ll be comedians in the crowd. Whether it’s a small open mic or the quiet night of a festival show. It’s inevitable that you might strike up a conversation as part of your act with someone who might be someone you’ve met before or even worse a fellow comedian. Is it really so bad to talk to them for a bit? 

I was at an open mic the other nights and it was particularly quiet. It was 95% comedians. The show seemed like it was on the verge of cancelling but instead went ahead with two people in the audience. I decided I would set a good example and sit in the chairs too (just the third row, not the front, I’m not crazy.) Meanwhile the bulk of the comedians hugged the back of the room. Trying to pretend they weren’t there. 

“Anyone in a couple?” the comedian asked.
“Yes” I replied, since without me it would just be silence.
“I can’t talk to you. Is there anyone that’s not a comedian here?” 

He attempted to chat to the two strangers in the fifth row who clearly didn’t want to be talked to but he persisted nevertheless because at least they weren’t performing.

I wanted to say, “Look around. It’s an open mic. It’s a bunch of humans in a room. You can talk to them. Especially since this part of the bit is just so you can say ‘How long have you been in a relationship?’ before returning to your planned material. I don’t think chatting to a comedian is going to disrupt the magic of this routine.” 

The real bugbear I had that night was that the majority of the comedians hid up the back of the room. Staring at the phones, seemingly dreading getting on stage at this terrifically slow night. All of them ignoring that maybe if they went and sat in the front chairs that it might start to build some warmth. Perhaps this show could be worth saving. Maybe we won’t all die on this stage tonight. Instead it created a weird bystander effect where comic after comic got on stage and ate shit while their fellow performers looked on in the dark and thought, “Sure am glad that’s not me up there. If only there was something I could do…” 

What I’m trying to say is, if you’re an open micer and it’s a slow night, you’re not too good to sit in the audience. You will learn a lot. It also sets a great example for any latecomers to take a seat too. Secondly, if you are doing crowdwork and find yourself chatting to a familiar face, just talk to them. Comedians can talk too. 

The Comedy Writers Group: Join the Community

The Comedy Writers Group continues to grow and I’m so proud of all the members. They’re putting on debut Fringe shows, they’re helping each other out, they’re winning awards, they have each others backs. If you’re a comedian looking for a community, look no further.

What is The Comedy Writers Group? The CWG is a community of comedians from around Australia. We have five online meet-ups a month ranging from workshop sessions, Q & As, and group writing time. At our workshops we’re joined by special guest professional comedians who help guide and mentor our participants.

Learn more here.

Nice Things People Have Said

Want to book me in for a coaching session? We can talk about your tight five or your festival show. We can also chat about your creative goals and how to hit them. 

Here’s some beautiful testimonials that I’ve recently received.

“I just did my session with Marcel and it was SO HELPFUL. He's so good at breaking stuff down and helping make it clear and easy for the audience to get on board with you etc. I'm always amazed by how skilled he is at this stuff.” - Katie Eyles 

“I came into my one-on-one with Marcel with lots of brain vomit. Lots of ideas with no structure. Marcel helped me shape my ideas and find my authentic voice. I have since reworked my five mins, got up and got instant feedback from the audience. I have a clear idea of what I need to work on and how to turn my 'funny thoughts' into clear, concise comedy gold.” - Shelly

“As a newbie to comedy, Marcel has a warmth and knowledge that immediately puts you at ease . No question is too big or too small! He also gave some great insights on material I had been working on and ways on how to develop it. We also worked on setting goals for the future. I left feeling so much more confident when it comes to writing and performing” - Mary Ann 

Recommendations

Listen: Big laughs on the Amityville Horror episode of Do Go On. I really enjoyed the Jack Antonoff episode of Working it Out. Also I’d like to make sure everyone has heard that my podcast The Comedy Writers Group is now free to listen from Episode 100.

Watch: I’ve been watching The Old Man on Disney+. It’s superbly made. Perfect if you’re a fan of the genre of They Messed With The Wrong Guy and Airport Novels For Dads. It’s really pulpy and melodramatic like Jason Bourne which is what makes it so silly and watchable.

Subscribe now

I thought I’d better introduce myself because I’ve had a lot of new subscribers lately.

I’m a big comedy nerd. I’m freelance so it means I wear a lot of different hats - not to be confused with the literal hats that I’m also known to wear. When I’m not performing, I teach stand-up, improv, corporate performance, and probably my favourite thing, one-on-one mentoring.

The Notes Section

Here’s the latest stuff that I’ve scribbled into my notes app. Maybe they’ll become jokes one day?

• I’m so tired of that trope in movies where the hero puts on an elaborate disguise to get past security only to then remove the disguise AS SOON AS THEY ENTER THE BUILDING AND THEN PROCEED TO GET CAUGHT. 

• Balance is hard. How come breakfast in bed is luxurious but dinner in bed is a sign of depression? How do we balance encouraging our loved ones to find more rest and relaxation but then also tell them to get off their arse and get some sun and exercise?

• I received the best response from an uber driver when I asked him how his day was going. “Just driving” he replied flatly. Touché. Good insight. Good sharing.

• Why are pregnancy and wedding photos so often in fields of wheat and long grass? Aren’t you afraid of ticks and velociraptors?  

Stretched 

I’ve always struggled with knowing my limits.

Remember corded vacuums? Everyone seems to be living that cordless life now, following in the footsteps of phones and trousers. Of course, I grew up with the corded type with one bad wheel that I would pull around the house like a disobedient dog that didn’t want to go for a walk. That $45 vacuum with the paper bag had its fair share of battlescars. All the paint stolen from the skirting boards left it looking like a P-plater’s Hyundai Getz.

I miss the cord. The satisfaction of pressing the button that zips it back into the machine. The hubris of seeing how far you could extend the cord so you didn’t have to keep unplugging it and plugging it around the house. The cord had its limits. Ours had two strips of electrical tape. There was a yellow strip that warned you not to pull much further so as not to damage the wires then shortly after a red strip of tape to say, ‘Seriously, was the first warning not enough for you?’ 

I would always stretch it a little further, taking the cord to it’s breaking point, wanting to finish the room I was in, get the chore over and done with. The following week, mum would try and turn on the vacuum cleaner to find it wasn’t working any more. I would shrug my shoulders, oblivious to what the culprit could possibly be.

I’ve never been great at recognising what the yellow tape is for my own stamina. The yellow always just felt like a guideline. I never took it as a serious warning because I knew there would always be more cord. The yellow didn’t mean ‘stop pulling the cord or it will break’, it meant ‘there’s still a bit left, go for it.’ 

What I’m trying to say is, I’ve had to come to terms with the fact that I’m burnt out. To put it in vacuum terms, I’ve gone past the bit of red tape. We need to return the Hoover to Godfreys.

I’m doing alright. I’ve been slowing down a bit. Taking rest where I can. The lesson I continue to learn is that running a small business can be a big job. If I’m going to be my own boss, then I also have to give my one employee a break sometimes. Maybe even a holiday. I’m about to go on a holiday on a cruise ship. It’s not the sort of thing I would usually seek out, but my wife got a three-month contract so the only way to see her is to get a ticket on the high seas. 

Lots of folks are talking about burn out in the comedy industry in this great article by Scout Boxall who will appear in next week’s episode of my podcast. Frankie McNair who is also interviewed in the article, was on my show last week and you can listen to the episode for free.

Stand-Up Pet-Peeves: You Guys Heard About This?

Every month I discuss an element of comedy that irritates my pedantic brain.

There’s this trend in comedy that has been around for decades. Introducing an idea, and asking the audience if they’re familiar with it. Subject + question. It’s how people impersonate Jay Leno. He introduces a news story and then follows it with: “You seen this? You heard about this?”

It’s a way to make your act sound more conversational. So many comedians do it in their own way. “I went to Costco for the first time. Anyone else been to Costco?”, “Has everyone been watching the Olympics?”, “Who’s seen House of the Dragon?”

The problem I’ve been noticing is that comedians use these questions as a survey to determine whether they have to tell the audience anything more about the subject they’ve introduced before they get to the punchline. They get a general ‘Woo’ or applause from the crowd to indicate that most of them are familiar and then they race to the next point or the conclusion.

Comedians might not like to recognise this but so much of comedy writing benefits from essay structure: introduction + body + conclusion. It’s beginning / middle / end. It’s ‘Here’s what I’m about to talk about’ then ‘Here’s what I’m talking about’ then ‘That’s what I talked about.’

Essay structure is being a good communicator and that’s the business we’re in.
The audience survey question was never designed to be a replacement for defining your terms. Jay Leno would give you the headline of the new story, say his catchphrase, and then proceed to give you the bullet points of the news story before doing the joke. It meant that not only was he building tension and anticipation for the impending punchline, but he was also ensuring that everyone was on the same page as him.

Picture a Year 5 student named Georgina doing an oral presentation in front of the class. They open with ‘You guys heard of Ancient Egypt? You seen this? You heard about this?’ the class nods politely. Georgina takes that as a cue to throw out her cue-card introducing the key points about Ancient Egypt and goes straight to talking about the death of Cleopatra.

What stresses me out the most about the comedian’s eagerness to get the next part of their joke is that they’re leaving jokes on the table. They’ll tell a story like this: “You guys ever been to a dog park? [crowd responds] I was at a dog park the other day and a dog pissed on me. Can you believe it?” The start of this joke could be full of extra jokes about how they feel about dogs and dog parks. They could include imagery of the particular dog park they’re talking about. They could tell us about their dog.

Tell us about it. Stop skipping it. You’re cutting the part that gets us invested. It’s the introduction. It’s Act 1. It’s the world-building. It’s the part that gets me excited about what’s to come. I challenge you to see what happens when you cut the questions or just make them more rhetorical. Tell the audience what they need to know, don’t just take their word that they’ve seen it or heard about it.

The Comedy Writers Group: 200+ Members

I’m so stoked that I’ve recently exceeded my target of 200 members for my patreon. 

What is The Comedy Writers Group? The CWG is a community of comedians from around Australia. We have five online meet-ups a month ranging from workshop sessions, Q & As, and group writing time. At our workshops we’re joined by special guest professional comedians who help guide and mentor our participants.

Learn more here.

Nice Things People Have Said

Want to book me in for a coaching session? We can talk about your tight five or your festival show. We can also chat about your creative goals and how to hit them. You can book me in directly via this link.

Here’s some beautiful testimonials that I’ve recently received.

“I just did my session with Marcel and it was SO HELPFUL. He's so good at breaking stuff down and helping make it clear and easy for the audience to get on board with you etc. I'm always amazed by how skilled he is at this stuff.” - Katie Eyles 

“I came into my one-on-one with Marcel with lots of brain vomit. Lots of ideas with no structure. Marcel helped me shape my ideas and find my authentic voice. I have since reworked my five mins, got up and got instant feedback from the audience. I have a clear idea of what I need to work on and how to turn my 'funny thoughts' into clear, concise comedy gold.” - Shelly

“As a newbie to comedy, Marcel has a warmth and knowledge that immediately puts you at ease . No question is too big or too small! He also gave some great insights on material I had been working on and ways on how to develop it. We also worked on setting goals for the future. I left feeling so much more confident when it comes to writing and performing” - Mary Ann 

See Me Live

I’m running a Stand-Up Workshop For Improvisers in Auckland on September 10th.

I’m performing in Adelaide on October 17th. Tickets on sale soon through Adelaide Comedy.

I’m coming to Improv Theatre Sydney for the 10th Birthday Celebration. Will tell you more about that soon too!

Recommendations

Listen: I really enjoyed the Jewel episode of Marc Maron’s WTF. Who knew she had such an interesting upbringing. It’s wild. I won’t spoil it. I’ve got to recommend my own podcast too that I’ve recorded some excellent episodes of lately with some brilliant guests. Find The Comedy Writers Group on Spotify - you can unlock a free seven day trial too.

Watch: If you’re after a dumb movie, may I recommend Cellular? It’s currently on Netflix and stars Chris Evans, a guy who gets a phonecall on his mobile from a kidnapped woman and has to stay on the line to rescue her. It’s from 2004 and it is a beautiful time capsule. If you want to watch more of a film then check-out Are You There God, It’s Me Margaret which is a great coming-of-age movie that came out last year.

• Those movies that open with ‘Present Day’ have very little foresight. This movie was made in 1986. So is it my present day or yours? If it’s my present day, where are the smartphones? If it’s your present day, then you need to be more specific.

• Making fun of podcasters has always been a cheap joke for my generation. It’s easy to make fun of them trying to turn conversations with friends into ‘content.’ But can you blame my generation? When the robot uprising comes and we’re barbecuing rats over a converted garbage can, it will be nice to have a record of the simpler times. We’ll need those episodes to remind us of our humanity in-between cannibal raids.

• I’ve got a bunch of cool gigs coming up. In July I’m on the road with headline spots in Canberra, MCing in Cairns, and the return of my completely improvised stand-up show in Brisbane.

• I got a call from the Dentist Office telling me that they need to reschedule because my dentist “Doesn’t work there any more” and I’ve never been more intrigued. Was he bad at his job? Was all of his advice incorrect? Can I stop flossing?

Pulp Fiction

This year is the 30th anniversary of Pulp Fiction. 

I bragged about watching Pulp Fiction to my friends at school. I told them about the violence and the swearing but made a special point about how the movie is interesting and cool because it is actually edited out of order so like the start is sort of the end and the middle is sort of the start anyway you gotta see it it’s rated R. 

By age twenty I had watched Pulp Fiction so many times. I can’t specifically recall showing it to any girlfriends but I also couldn’t go on a witness stand and claim that I never have. I have certainly shouted, “You haven’t seen Pulp Fiction?” at a woman an embarrassing amount of times (i.e more than once.) It was a time before I had considered there might be more to cinema than Rush Hour 2 and the Tarantino collection.

My middle-brother just turned forty which means I’ll be forty in four years (which is something I’m trying not to think of too much when I’ve modeled my whole personality on being the young and cute one.) 

I loved Pulp Fiction. It came out when I was five and I watched it around twelve. Far too young to be watching it. I watched my brothers watching it and took note of what I was supposed to be reacting to. Laugh when Marvin gets shot in the head. Repeat ‘Royale with cheese’ after Samuel L Jackson says it. Cheer when Bruce finds the sword.

I bought Pulp Fiction on DVD when I was nineteen to match my Pulp Fiction poster (it’s called being cool and interesting, look it up.) It was the era of buying $30 DVDs despite my bank balance ever being over three digits.

Did I like the movie because I genuinely enjoyed it or did I like it because my brothers liked it? It’s a confusing phenomenon. The idea of taste. You can get a little lost trying to figure out whether you genuinely like something or that you make yourself like it to fit in. Do I even like The Smiths?

I’m the youngest of three and always felt particularly young compared to my brothers. They loved violence and gangsters. They loved swearing and anything quotable. My brothers and I would communicate via quotes of iconic 90s movies and Simpsons episodes. The fact that they were quoting a movie I hadn’t seen made me feel like I was being left out of an exclusive club. It was like when a crush told me she liked The Smiths and I spent the rest of my night learning everything there was to know about The Smiths. 

I’ve watched Pulp Fiction countless times. Despite the anniversary, I don’t feel like I need to watch it again. There’s so many great movies I haven’t seen. I have friends who watch their favourite films every year. I don’t really do that anymore. With streaming, I just find myself watching what’s put in front of me. When I had DVDs, I would rotate what I watched by the two or three dozen options I had. What should I watch tonight? The Matrix or The Sopranos season 3? I had a collection. These were the films that I loved and adored. I treasured films when I had DVDs. 

Maybe it’s something to do with my brain chemistry. I forget something I love exists unless it’s right in front of me: out of sight = out of mind. Like if I don’t own a copy of Soderberg’s Out of Sight then I will never again think of J-Lo and Clooney again.

When I finished watching Pulp Fiction for the first time I was desperate to tell my best friend how cool I was. I had a whole collection of new references. My brothers bully me a little less if I could quote more Vincent Vega and less Christina Aguilera. I couldn’t wait to tell the kids at school how the movie was edited out of sequence. 

Right In The Feels

I don’t like it when someone recommends a movie and tells me that it will make me cry. That feels like a spoiler. Now the whole time I’m watching the movie, I’m trying to guess what will be the great big cry trigger. Is that dog going to die? Is the main character going to get a terminal diagnosis out of nowhere? Will the group of friends all find themselves in a trash incinerator moments away from death and have to come to terms with the idea that existence is finite?

And that’s if I watch the movie. These days it’s a quick way for me to avoid a movie completely if someone tells me I’m going to feel something. Excuse me? I’m trying to get through my day on planet Earth in 2024. If this movie makes me feel something, it might make it all too difficult. What if the movie makes me feel sad, which makes me feel vulnerable, which makes me remember I’m human, which reminds me that I’m mortal, leading me to realise that I’m not living life as fully as I could be? If this movie makes me feel something, I might not want to go to work, I might second-guess my habit of scrolling on my phone for hours, I might feel empty, I might be forced to reckon with a whole bunch of feelings that I’ve been repressing. 

I don’t blame the winter and seasonal affective disorder, but oh boy, my first Melbourne winter sure is a doozy. I’m typing this up in three layers, a beanie, a warm coffee, and a heater blaring at my feet. 

I’m not depressed. It feels good to be able to say that with confidence. My spirit is strong. I just find that I’m not often impressed. Since the big three Comedy Festival tour, I haven’t been on stage much. Also the last three weeks my wife was away so it was just me and the dog. I found myself watching a lot of movies and TV shows that wouldn’t challenge me. Shows that I could have on while on my phone scrolling instagram, and playing Balatro (highly recommended.) 

I watched Expendables 4, Mr Deeds, Morbius, and Blue Beetle. Movies that I won’t even make a point to log on my letterboxd profile for fear of embarrassment from my movie mate, Alexei Toliopolous (actually he would probably like that I’m revisiting some vintage Sandler.)  I wonder if the film-makers made these movies with the intention for their audience to disassociate. They nailed it. 

After a week of watching non-nutritional content, my body started yearning for something a bit more substantial like when your body tries to remind you to eat an apple every now and then. I dusted off my WatchList full of award-winning movies that promised to “get me right in the feels” and put on Past Lives (2023). 

It’s a great movie. Rather than telling you it’s going to make you feel something, I’d prefer to tell you that it’s beautifully made and really entertaining. I think I get scared of buzzed-about Oscar-type movies because I’m expecting something heavy and I’m tired and already lugged all the groceries inside and made dinner can’t we just watch more 30 Rock and Youtube video essays?

It’s a lukewarm take, hardly revolutionary, but watching this excellent film made me feel things and also reminded me of the value of feeling things. My habits have been encouraging me to engage in a pretty guarded routine, one notch above survival, a muted lifestyle, because that’s often what I have the energy for. 

I reminded myself that just like my diet, what you’re putting influences how you feel. If you eat shit, you’ll feel shit. If I consume bland content, my brain will be bland. The trouble with that is that I’m supposed to be an artist. I’m supposed to be making stuff. I’ve got a weekly podcast, I’ve got a monthly newsletter, I’ve got clients coming to me for ideas, so I’ve got to have a brain that has absorbed more than Youtube video essays about obscure 90s movies that weren’t quite cult-classics. 

What I’m trying to say is, you should watch the new Jim Henson documentary. 

Stand-Up Pet-Peeves: Give Me a Break

Every month I discuss an element of comedy that irritates my pedantic brain.

I get a tap on the shoulder. It’s the room runner: “Hey man, it’s a small crowd tonight so we’re just going to skip the break and power through.” 

Every comedian should be familiar with this event. It’s a slow night and there’s only a handful of audience members. The person in charge of running the night has determined that if they have an interval as usual, that people will probably leave and not come back. 

The solution? Trap them there. Don’t give them an opportunity to leave.

It felt bizarre to type that sentence but that is the strategy. Imagine being so unconfident with the quality of your show that you feel it best to not give the audience a window of opportunity to escape.

What’s especially bad is that I’ve done shows where the room runner has decided to skip the break. All in the hope that the audience won’t notice.

I went to a play last night that was 3.5 hours long. There were two intervals. Imagine if the stage-manager went up to the actors and tried that out. “What if we just power through and we all get an early mark tonight? I don’t think this crowd is vibing with the text.”  

OK sure, I get it. It’s a small crowd. Let’s get this over with. Take advantage of whatever momentum we can muster. But if both brackets of the show are of equal length, that makes for one long night. That break is there for a reason. The crowd needs to go to the toilet, bar, have a chance to catch-up with their friends. They didn’t sign up for this. 

I would argue that the smaller audience needs that break more than the bigger audience does. The smaller audience has been working harder. They are going to be worked down to the nub like a HB pencil. I’ve done plenty of shows where we’ve just “powered through” and so much of each comedian’s act is spent remarking about how little they’re getting from the little crowd. 

What I prefer is honesty and transparency. If you want to skip the break, tell the audience and assess the vibe. Is the show still going to be a reasonable length? Are the comedians in the second half happy to play to a tired audience with people getting up to go to the bar? 

Another option is to trim the break. Don’t let the break drag. Those are the moments when the audience considers leaving. Show them how treasured they are. It means the world when a small crowd sticks around. Once I was a little cheeky with the audience after the room runner suggested cutting the break. There were five audience members but it was a great vibe. I gave the audience drink vouchers and five minutes. I told them that the comedians were afraid you might not come back, so don’t make a liar out of me. All five of them came back and we had a great second half. 

What I’d love to see is more comedy nights that are confident in the standard of the show even if it’s a quiet night. The more confident producers are, the more optimistic they’ll feel about letting their audience members go to the toilet.  Even if it’s an amateur night with comedians trying new stuff (actually, especially if it’s an amateur night.)  

The Comedy Writers Group: Winter Retreat

Tickets have gone on sale for the Comedy Writers Winter Retreat. On August 15th - 18th, our members will be headed to Eildon in the Victorian countryside for a long weekend of workshops, activities, events, and creativity. 

This retreat is exclusive for members so sign up to the patreon if you want to come along.

What is The Comedy Writers Group? The CWG is a community of comedians from around Australia. We have five online meet-ups a month ranging from workshop sessions, Q & As, and group writing time. At our workshops we’re joined by special guest professional comedians who help guide and mentor our participants.

"I never come out of one of the writing sessions with nothing. The prompts, collegiality and encouragement are unlike anything I’ve been able to manufacture myself through years of comedy." - Sarah

Learn more here.

See Me Live

I’m heading to Canberra on July 16th + 17th to headline Gang Gang and Wakefield Comedy night.

I’ll be back in Cairns on July 22nd for Laughing Heart Comedy.

Then I’ll be in Brisbane for a week doing a heap of exciting things including the Brisbane Improv Festival and my solo show at Good Chat.

My Favourite Things 

Listen: I really enjoyed this episode of Jameela Jamil’s podcast about discovering your purpose.

Watch: I can’t recall who recommended Dopesick to me ages ago but I’m glad they did. Excellent cast, brilliantly plotted, expertly acted. It’s also an important story but for anyone like me afraid that it might be too challenging, it's just so well executed that it ends up feeling like a great legal thriller. You can find it on Disney+.