My Five Minutes

Looking back, I really did love the 90s. It took a while, but that’s what makes it nostalgic, right? The ability to breathe a sigh of relief when it’s over, laugh about it, and then miss it? Maybe it was the progression that we as people sought after and strived for. The 80s were done. Bring on the last decade of the millennium! We phased out those ridiculous acid-washed jeans (at least some of us never got into them); the palate of neon that swathed our hair, faces, and bed sheets; and the synthesizer - all soon took a back seat to flannel, grunge, and anything Seattle. Nirvana. Saved by the Bell. Full House. This was livin’. These were America’s influences. For me, the biggest influence was being introduced to Saturday Night Live.

My mom showed me a recorded VHS tape (Gosh, those were great!) of the 15^th Anniversary of SNL, which aired in 1990. I just didn’t get it at first. There’s a woman who has Jaws for a neighbor. Sam Kinison yells. Buckwheat still has a speech impediment. For every Coneheads scene highlighting Dan Aykroyd shoving fried eggs down his mouth while drinking a 6-pack, there was an episode of “It’s Pat!” that wasted its double entendre on me. I just couldn’t wrap my head around it. Though to be fair, I was only 8.

Hit fast forward on the VCR Remote Control (Ha! Classic.) four years, and you’ll find my weekly ritual of sitting with my buddy Tom on the basement futon, turning on the news at 10:34 so as not to miss the opener, and laughing at Hartman, Farley, Meadows, and Myers. The Dream Team. This cast was silly, over-the-top, and the perfect brand of humor for the angsty, early-to-mid-90s pre-teens figuring themselves out while listening to musical guests The Cranberries, Live, and Pearl Jam blaring from the TV. This. This I got. I understood it now.  Now, as a smart and worldly 12-year-old, I would re-watch the anniversary tape over and over. I now understood and loved Mel’s Char-Palace. The Bass-o-matic. And why it’s funny Lorne Michaels offers a check to The Beatles for $3,000.

Now, as I’m going through my experiences at Second City and iO, I can’t help but appreciate and fawn over the memorabilia and photos of the alumni that filled both theatres with laughter. This is where they found themselves. In improv. In characters. In satire. In the ugliness of the world, they found humanity with laughter and tears. These jesters were no fools.

I’ve been fortunate enough to see some SNL alum, along with other amazing performers from TV and movies, go back to their improvisational roots and perform on stage. In front of me. Like, right there. It was surreal. To hear them speak. To see them create. To show us the love of their lives. To appreciate that no matter what level of fame they’ve attained, all they want to do is a $5 improv show.

Recently, SNL had auditions in NYC, LA, and Chicago. They were searching for the next few talented people to bring up to the big leagues. I stood in line for 2 ½ hours just to be able to get into the theatre at iO, and another hour and a half glued to my seat before the auditions even started. 15 people. 5 minutes each. Invite-only audition. Those they liked would be flown to New York to audition again at 30 Rockefeller.

Everyone who auditioned was amazing and completely inspiring. They were bold. They brought characters. They were smart. Some could rap.  And I’m excited for the day that I can say, “Oh, yeah…I saw them before…” Watching the audition showcase presented me with knowledge – where I am in my creative and performance abilities, where I need to be, and more importantly, what I need to do. I need to write and create the best 5 minutes I can, spotlighting my strengths.

In college, I can honestly say I was more than a little bummed when my theatre professors all labeled me as a “character actor.” That means you’re not the good looking one right? I mean, come on. It was the early ‘00s. Jeans without holes. Track suits. Eminem. I was living in my angsty late-teens-to-early-20s. Every time I heard “character actor,” I thought of Joe Pesci for some reason. But now I understand their labeling: A) This can actually be a very good thing. B) I love creating a wide range of characters, so why was I so mad? C) It seems that I can’t escape any family holiday without at least 4 family members slipping into some form of a British or Russian accent. And D) I love doing impressions. I can still remember in 3^rd grade, I was making a killing as Elvis and a white Steve Urkel, donning my Hammer pants. How many 8-9 year olds can say that?

5 minutes. That’s all you get. You need to bring it. This is the time where most people see this industry as cut-throat. I see it as a time to make like the Hunger Games and form alliances. Work with some talented friends that are on the same path. Write. Push one another. Grow. Write some more. Develop characters. Form groups. After all, how many movies have Vince Vaughn and Jon Favreau worked on together? That’s no accident.

And guess where they have their roots?

I also remember something else my theatre professors told me: It’s about the process, not about the destination. It's not about "making it." Though, that would be incredible, of course. But it's about living without regret. No matter the result, we will work for it.