Respect and Communications is Often More Important than Anything

Report from the front lines of Hollywood and the lowlife life of being a comic.

If you reached out to friends, colleagues, for specific help in your career — any career, not just showbiz — and they said they would try and help you, but then you never hear from them again, how would you feel? Would you ask them again? I know I probably wouldn’t. I respect their boundaries like I expect them to respect mine. I’m not going to pin them against the proverbial wall, because either people want to help you or they don’t.

All I ever expect (hope for) people I know or been recommended to by a close friend in this business is to get back to you. Either way. Whether they want you or not. Out of simple respect. Hollywood agencies don’t do this all the time. That is you send them a blind inquiry for representation, they’ll only contact you if they want to meet you. That’s the way it’s always been. And yet my experience in London, in the three disparate worlds of stand-up, acting, and screenwriting? My experience is that even if they reject you, they will send you a personalized “thanks for your inquiry” letter if you inquired, but they will tell you politely, they don’t want to represent you and sometimes why and best of luck. And, they mean it. They validate your talent and effort either way. By giving you closure.

That’s the respectful way. It bleeds a lot less.

Similarly with comedy clubs. A very recent experience right here in L.A., I auditioned at a new comedy club (owned and run by a comedian), under the condition that if I did well, they’d book me. I did; they didn’t. However, another comedian on the same show saw me absolutely kill and subsequently booked me at a very good gig in front of a big paying crowd and paid me. And I killed at that gig too. (God bless this person.) My only point is this. You don’t have to book me (or anyone else) or represent me (or anyone else) if you don’t want to. I understand the pressures you’re under. I produced very big comedy gigs in England (including a live show filmed for television) and hundreds of comedians from my home country of America submitted their tapes. I only got back to the comedians I wanted. They understood that.* (see footnote) However, my unsolicited words of advice are do not invite any comedian to play your club under the agreement that if they do well you’ll book them, then they do well, and then you don’t book them. What’s that all about? You’ve already literally broken a contract and more than that, their trust in you and indeed your venue. And, if you’re that comedian/club owner, that’s when the behind your back talk begins.

Often it’s not just the business aspect, it’s about not feeling so alone all the time.

These are really tough times for live performers, as well as venues; I get it. If you are an actual friend and colleague to someone who needs your help, even if you can’t help them, at least get back to them and try and tell them exactly why you couldn’t help them. Believe me; they’ll understand and they’ll feel validated that you took the time to personally tell them. Who knows? Perhaps you can give them pointers they can learn from and then the entire submission/rejection enterprise isn’t so damn filthy.

Don’t ever underestimate how much sway you may have in someone’s mind.

Often, it’s not just the business aspect, it’s about not feeling so alone all the time. That there could actually be a professional team behind you or at least, someone you perceive as being in a position to help you, who took their personalized time to email you back with best wishes forward. My dad called that “class”. Respect and honor them by having the courage and presence of mind to keep your word and communication is the key to respect.

Plus — and this will chill your blood — remember that person you not just rejected, but offered them something that really didn’t exist in the first place, may hold some keys to your kingdom in the future. One day they might have an opportunity for you. I’m the perfect example of that. A rejected comedian who went to a foreign land, found loads of work, then produced big comedy shows, bringing over dozens standup comics from home, some of whom got on British television on shows I produced and controlled.

Never underestimate anybody in this business. You may dismiss them today, but a year from now? Five years from now? You may be kissing their ass and acting like a fool in front of them, all because it is now they who hold the keys to your imagined universe. And all they’re gonna remember is not that you rejected them, because that’s fair play. I’ve done it. I’ve rejected hundreds of submissions to my shows. All they’ll remember is how you did it.

Like me, for example.

SAG

*This was when I was an assistant talent booker for The Cat’s Laugh Comedy Festival in Kilkenny, Ireland. When I produced the “High On Laughter” series, including the show at The London Palladium, I didn’t take submissions. I merely asked the comedians I liked, respected, and knew.