San Francisco Comedy Blog

Comedian David Kleinberg started performing comedy after a 34 year newspaper career, including 14 years as editor of the San Francisco Chronicle’s Sunday Datebook. Here he shares with us his recent experience competing in the 31st Annual San Francisco Comedy Competition.

_______________________________

I just finished competing in one of the preliminary rounds of the San Francisco Comedy Competition. I finished eighth out of 16 contestants, three slots short of making it to the semifinal round.

However, it clearly was the best experience of my comedy life, and if any local comic ever had the opportunity to enter the event, I would highly recommend it.

In the space of six days and at six different locations (Green Room in San Francisco, Sonoma State campus in Rohnert Park, an Indian casino in Tuolumne, Marin Civic Center in San Rafael, a theater in Antioch, the Crow’s Nest restaurant in Santa Cruz), it was non-stop comedy. We competed before audiences ranging in size from 150 (S.F.) to 600 (Antioch).

It was intense, demanding, ultimately exhausting, a comedy boot-camp, but I felt the process forced and allowed me to grow immensely as a comic. I woke up involuntarily almost every night at about 3 or 4 a.m., my head spinning on how to cut, craft or rework my seven-minute set for the following night’s show.

I entered this competition not certain that I was worthy to be with this group – perhaps no more than filling promoter Jon and Anne Fox’s affirmative-action geezer role. The Foxes had not seen me since I auditioned for them more than two years ago, and I had not sent in the required 20-minute audition tape.

Surprisingly, the level of experience and talent among the 16 comics was wide – from the top two who clearly were in a league of their own (one had won the Seattle Comedy Competition), down to some comics who did not show a lot of experience, nor creativity – and you almost wondered how they had gotten in.

I can honestly say that I felt that my performance and level of relaxation went up every single night for the first five nights.

On the third night, before 500 students at Sonoma State – almost all of which were probably 10 years younger than any of my five children – I won fifth place, my best finish of the competition. Even though I had a great set, and the other comics told me so, I was shocked to be able to go out with the other leaders at the end for a bow.

My sets the next two nights (in Marin Civic Center before 350 people and Antioch before 600) were even better, but the judges awarded me seventh-place finishes. In fact, as audience members filed out in both places, I was told that I had been “robbed”, that I “certainly was in the top 5″ or that “you were the best.” I found it a challenge, as any comic would, not to become resentful over the difference in the way the judges and the audience perceived a performance.

In Antioch, I came as close as I ever have to having a spiritual experience on stage. A few minutes before going on, I was back stage. It was dark, so I sat on the floor by myself, closed my eyes and took some long, deep breaths.

From the moment I hit the stage, this audience was with me, and I felt totally in the moment. I got so many long laughs and applause breaks that I didn’t have time to do 40 seconds worth of material that I had delivered every other night. I looked up into the light at one moment, and it seemed like the laughter was pouring in like white rain from heaven, bathing me in love. I think the other comics would even agree that an argument could be made that on that night I had the best audience response.

Though I did not advance in the contest, my niece was in Antioch that night – and taped my performance. Ironically, in the end when this video set is mounted on my web site, it will probably prove to be more valuable to getting stage time and possible work than advancing in the competition.

Night six was a major disappointment – an anti-climax to a great week. The audience was inattentive and flat. And since the top five advancing comics were already secure before the night started, a lot of comics just relaxed, didn’t even do their best material. Some who didn’t make the semifinals were bitter and angry, and “tanked it” on stage. One comic, upset that he had not received the “audience point” the previous night – unprofessionally just decided to go home.

In retrospect, it was a minor blip on a great week – for I certainly will remember all the great times, and all the great people that I worked with.

And I hope some of you have found this of interest.

Best,
David Kleinberg

For more on David, visit his website.

Watch the performance David describes in the article:

Leave a Reply | Trackback