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Serious Business - Commercial Appeal article April 9, 2006
Serious Business
Memphis can be a funny place -- at least John Marks and Sammy Marten think so -- and their comedy club plans ain't no gag
By Christopher Blank
April 9, 2006
Nervous energy has possessed Drew Davis; turned him into a living cat toy.
He jolts from one side of the stage to the other, antic motions drawing the eyes of his listeners who sit like felines in various states of interest.
Old timers on the scene, however, appear something like politely bemused.
It's Thursday night at Neil's in Midtown and a handful of stand-up comics are doing whatever it takes to keep the audience laughing.
Davis, 17, has driven all the way from Brownsville, Tenn., on a school night to test material for the third time in his life.
"I've always loved to entertain," he says. "This is really the closest place I can go ... where they let me in."
"They," in this instance, are a couple of road-weary comedians named John Marks and Sammy Marten.
In January 2005, the pair started Comedy Tennessee to provide a weekly venue for stand-up in Memphis, a city where comic inventions often have led tragically short lives.
Within the last decade, attempts at permanent comedy clubs have failed at the Laugh Factory in southeast Memphis, The Looney Bin and Comedy Zone on Overton Square, the Funny Bone Comedy Club on Beale, Crumpy's Comedy Club on North Hollywood and a comedy series at Stop 345 on Madison.
Even with some big names on the bills -- celebs like Chris Rock, Gilbert Gottfried, Sandra Bernhard, and stand-up porn star Ron Jeremy -- comedy hasn't caught on in Memphis.
But Marks and Marten, both in their late 40s, think they've hit upon the right formula with Comedy Tennessee, which will relocate from Neil's in June and expand to seven shows a week.
"What we bring that's different from the other clubs is, number one, Sammy and I are both comics," Marks said. "We've been on the road and know what is required to put on stand-up. Another thing is that we started selling sponsorships, teaming up with businesses to put on shows. That's fairly unusual for a club. We've done more Internet marketing. And finally, we've spent a lot of time in the last year working with younger comics, giving them more stage time. It creates a network of support in the area."
The new Comedy Tennessee will take over the building of the now defunct South Beach at 6102 Macon Road. Corporate sponsors get in-house advertising and tickets to reward employees or customers.
Marten, former proprietor of Creole Cafe in Midtown, will bring his recipes for gumbo and etouffee. Tickets are priced at $10 a show. Wednesdays will be open-mike nights.
Mary Jordan, 23, thinks that one reason stand-up hasn't taken off in Memphis is a lack of venues where novices can create a scene for it. But the University of Memphis history major, who started doing stand-up when she was 16, says that Comedy Tennessee's consistent stage time for talented amateurs has generated interest for aspiring funny men and women.
"I have very high hopes for the club," she said. "They're not going to have any trouble getting talented people to come in because they've been in the business and they've made good connections."
Marks and Marten have horror stories of "paying their dues" on the road: the "hell gigs" that led each of them, separately, into imagining they could produce comedy better.
It wasn't just the occasional bad night where even their best material fell flat.
It was mainly the pervasive technical problems in venues that didn't know how to present comedians. Like when Marks watched a makeshift stage literally collapse under one unlucky comedian. Or as, in Marten's case, when the comedy "club" was in reality a trucker bar attached to a filling station, with a light bulb over the stage and a Playskool microphone.
"This started more from our love of comedy," Marks said. "You'd be surprised what the difference is when you go into some of the best clubs."
Marten got initiated into the business in 1985, when he went to a club in Santa Monica with his sister. It was open-mike night, and she put his name in the hat.
His was the next to last name pulled that evening. He followed an up-and-comer named Kevin Nealon, who would go on to "Saturday Night Live."
"I had never been onstage before," said Marten, whose later comedy would be inspired by his Italian-Catholic upbringing in Louisiana. "Needless to say, by then I was a bit drunk. So I got up and started playing on a baby grand they had up there, improvising a song. Then I crawled under it and said something like 'how do you change the oil on this thing?'"
Marten and Marks say they didn't intend to be a breeding ground for new talent. But they admired the gumption of locals.
"I see the light in their eyes," Marks said. "I had the same light when I started out. I'm happy to give them that opportunity. I get a lot of satisfaction in helping the young comics. You're starting out, trying to get stage time. Club owners who don't understand comedy don't know how to present you."
Marks and Marten recently launched a contest called the Funniest Person in Memphis. The first round was held March 30 at Neil's. Two additional rounds are Thursday and May 11.
Finals are May 25, and the prize is a week's gig at the new Comedy Tennessee after it opens.
According to contest rules on the Web site comedytennessee.com, the contest is open to "Anyone who has a sense of humor and has not been involved with trying to overthrow the government of a third world country."
Both Drew Davis and Mary Jordan say they'll be in the contest.
Jordan says if she has a schtick, it's relationships. She likes to open with the announcement that she's been dumped ... again.
"I've been getting dumped every week since I was 17," she says. "Relationships are a big part of my comedy writing. Sometimes I'll be dating somebody else by the end of the act."
Jordan says stand-up comedy should have a place in any community as an original art form.
"Comedians are fantastic critics," she said. "It's one of the few forms of expression that are not censored. I can talk about any subject. It's very exciting to see people talk about taboo subjects. My own comedy always starts in a place of truth and then ends up somewhere else. But the most important thing, like most forms of art, is just doing it and seeing what happens."
-- Christopher Blank: 529-2305