Flanked on either side of me are two friends: a dynamic husband and wife duo who, in my humble opinion, are collectively next up out of Atlanta.
And with them I’m about to do the unthinkable…
I’m about to watch a live comedy show.
Sure, perhaps it is a bit snobbish-at the very least it’s dismissive- but I don’t “do” comedy shows. I’ve gone down this road before. Hell, I’ve lived off this damn road having dated a self-titled: “creative comedian” for three years in college. I’ve been in the room when a joke doesn’t land; I’ve felt that air get heavier, lights get brighter, clothes get tighter, sweat get…wetter? I can’t bear to witness another failing comedy show.
But, in the name of supporting such incredibly talented friends, I turn towards the stage lights to watch, beyond a shadow of a doubt, refreshingly genuine content.
Described as “a live comedy variety show featuring improv, stand up, and sketches”, make mommy proud LIVE is the brainchild of MJ Brashier and Pat Rooks, with additional written support from Royal Teague, Fiona Campbell, Louis Lartigue, and Wilson Weirich with production by Hot Shoe Media. Just over an hour and a half, the show was split over two acts with a ten minute intermission (very strict timekeeping, think Broadway flickering the lights rather than the DIY randomly called “If you’re outside, get inside!!” shows I’ve become accustomed to).
As Act 1 began, it was very reminiscent of video sketches SNL currently relies on to maintain some sort of relevance. It was the usual innocently monotonous concept devolving into chaos, a bit formulaic. I expected the night would follow a similar tone of “safe” comedy.
And then…it did something.
It became original.
How FOOLISH I felt for underestimating Atlanta. It’s a city of people bending the rules in order to survive and be seen: it is no wonder that this perversion translates even into the small corner of comedy shorts.
The deep fried editing talents of Renton Hinderer demanded attention and kept the audience in an unrelenting chokehold of sensory overload that I struggle to adequately describe (you’ll have to check it out for yourself). I was incredibly excited to be so embarrassingly wrong about the night.
To follow, “b1g_revelat1on” and mononymous hero of underground filmmaking “rubnogs” delivered a poignant reminder that as long as you create, you can control. With what felt like a minute runtime, rubnogs forced us to watch paper-doll like characters yell out MAKE MOMMY PROUD while delivering gut-wrenching, nearly prose-like writing across the screen that divided the audience between soft gasps or giggles, a reaction that begged comparison to the Japanese Breakfast line: “When the world divides into two people, those who have felt pain, and those who have yet to”.
Simply put, rubnogs has the secret sauce. He knows the people around him and forces them to slow down and look in the mirror. He’s frustratingly gifted and I can’t get enough. Look out for his short film, “Some Kind of Guilt”, debuting at the ATLFF on April 26th.
While there were impressive live comedic performances, my delightful disbelief continued through the shorts. “Pool Day” was such a success, I cannot wait to see what’s next for Royal Teague and Pat Rooks.
As the show continued along and my giggles ebbed and flowed, the finale short, “The Perfect Joke”, started similarly to the earlier days of Please Don’t Destroy. We watch as Brashier and Rooks are bogged down by writer’s block, attempting to find the perfect joke to end the show. Encouraged to think deeply and enter her mind palace, Brashier finds herself transported within a literal palace soon turned prison. As the hijinks unfolded on screen, my friend turned to me to whisper, “This is Zoe’s stuff.”
Holy shit.
I think I felt the closest to what a mother might feel when she realizes that her little baby is not just talented under the false guise of unrelenting maternal love, but actual community-recognized talent.
I had no idea she had it like that. She never told me she had it like that!
Zoe Kruse, production/set designer, you are a star. A movie-making magic source just waiting to be tapped into. I’m calling it now, she will be busy.
Flanked on either side of me, my talented friends left me feeling inspired by not only their art, but their poise. I watch as they laugh and cheer loudly for every single person who made themselves vulnerable that night.
Atlanta is a city full of people talented beyond belief who possess individuality and unbothered stubbornness that still leans grateful and humble. It is something so incredibly SOUTHERN that it just cannot be replicated.
And while it is a naive ask to turn inward rather than outward to seek opportunities in larger cities like NYC or LA, perhaps it should just begin with small alterations of the mind.
Perhaps we don’t need to call out the next big thing out of Atlanta.
What if we tap into this derivative of individualism that comes from being cut off from large cities? Foster that scrappiness.
I guess this is also a call to consume local art, donate to local theaters and collectives.
Go to a show, make mommy proud.