The Secret Stand Up of Alex Mac

Disclaimer: Some of this might seem arrogant or self absorbed. However, considering that I was involved in the show, it is going to be hard to detach from everything. Ideally, this will be a nice little look into a personal experience of mine.
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A week ago, Michael Ian Black and Michael Showalter came to Providence College to perform a comedy for the institution’s alumni weekend. Prior to this, I had received indication that one of the improv troupes I am a part of was approached by alumni relations to open for the comedians. Naturally, my reaction was one of mixed amazement and fear. I had opened for comedians before in an improv capacity but it was in smaller venues and with less well known individuals. Individuals like Tony V. or Delocated’s Brian Kiley. This time around, the stakes seemed higher. Not only were we opening for comedians who are deeply entrenched in the alternative scene but in the improv/sketch scene as well. Justifiably, I wondered whether or not we were ready. Besides, the whole billing had not been set in stone. I decided to keep things on the down low here, even though I was excited and wanted to brag a bit. Mostly because nothing had been confirmed. That wouldn’t come until we spoke with Michael and Michael’s agent. Once we did, we had everything set. We would open for them.

I wasn’t completely swayed still, excited as I was. I felt it still was not the best idea, even if my own mind told me it would be something I would be able to put on my comedy resume. It felt like a struggling acoustic act from Akron somehow convincing Rush to let them open for them. It was a coup to be sure. But would we be able to handle the responsibility and trust that we’d been given? Perhaps I am being overdramatic but I really was going into this with a lot of anxiety. In the long run, no one would recall us or me but that didn’t mean I didn’t want to do the best I could.

The night of the show came. The troupe showed up for an early mic check and to warm up. The location? A large open field house with maybe 400 seats. More than any show that I was used to, to be sure. “Backstage” was a few racket ball courts. A room for Mr. Showalter, a room for Mr. Ian Black, and one for the improv troupe. We practiced for a bit before Michael Ian Black showed up eventually followed by Showalter

Meeting any of your heroes is an odd experience. It never quite goes the way that you think it will. Odd scenarios play out in your head filled with lifelong friendships being forged over a line of shared cocaine or something else equally ridiculous. In reality, it is filled with sweaty palms, muttered half phrases, and a heart rate that would kill anyone with a preexisting condition. To be honest, I felt like a fool but did get to talk one on one with both of them. They were accommodating and very open. I got to ask Michael Ian Black about his recent appearances at the SF Sketchfest for a bit and say hello to Showalter. Showalter himself was a bit more removed. He liked to wander around a lot before the show. It was really interesting warming up with my troupe in one of the courts only to look up and see him looking down through one of the observation windows.

But none of this answers how the show itself was. To quickly go over our opening, it was…average at best. It is one thing to perform in front of nearly half a thousand people. It is a whole different ball game when none of those half a thousand care who you or what you are doing on the stage. As such, we did alright. A quick 15 minute set with a few good laughs punctuating a sort of bemused tolerance of our escapades. Better than I could have hoped for but not the amazing show that I had fantasized about in the days preceding the show. Enough to get some compliments from people after the show, at least individually on my part, but not enough that I would willingly delude myself into saying that we killed. We set a nice table but the audience had come to eat a meal.

And the Michaels delivered in every way possible. Opening with a long conversation into recent events on the Providence campus including a mysterious benefactor who handed out condoms to residence halls on campus since the Catholic institution refuses to give them out themselves and a recent bit of trouble with a chapter of “Youth for Western Civilization” (a nationally based borderline hate group), the Michaels effortlessly riffed on school’s image. After this, it descended into all sorts of realms. The tragedy of the fact that Showalter’s girlfriend (who we later found out was Beyonce) had literally no butt but “Invisibility cloak butt.” Or the how Ian Black’s daughter was ill prepared for going to school. “I asked her if she knew what a bully was and she said no, so I pushed her down the stairs and called here a faggot.” Interspersed between these exchanges was footage of a FOX morning show interview the pair had done to promote their show on Comedy Central. The morning show host treats Ian Black like a genius because she has seen him on VH1 while Showalter is treated like a man-child. Though the Moose print sweater he wore throughout probably didn’t help when it came time for the pair to assist in a cooking section of the program. “Michael, you can hold on to this cinnamon.” “Am I holding the cinnamon goood?!”

The greatest thing about this show were the moments when you could tell that the Michaels were playing around with each other. Those small seconds where an unplanned laugh or a small glint in their eyes clued you into their improv. Watching two experts at their craft was an amazing experience. After the show, I was able to meet up with the Michaels and thank them one more time for coming to my school and granting me an amazing opportunity. I had my copy of “My Custom Van” signed while another friend had their DVD set of the State autographed “to Marcus…”

Overall, it was the most humbling, exciting, frightening, painful, and amazing experience I can recall in recent years. And I thank whatever force allowed it to happen.