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Modest Proposal Magazine (2004)
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Homegrown in the Bay Area just like Sourdough Bread
By Teresa Aguilera
Originally published by Modest Proposal, 2004.
(c) 2004, All rights reserved.
There are all kinds of funny in the world, which means there are all kinds of comedy, and consequently, many, many comedians all over the place. Being lazy Americans, it's nice of the powers-that-be to occasionally gather up the offbeat, the slapstick, the asinine-the funny-and bring it all together under one banner.
In the San Francisco comedy scene, Killing My Lobster is definitely one of these powers. And they're holding a really big banner.
There are 29 people on the group's bio page; from actors, writers and producers to choreographers, costume and lighting designers, musicians and business advisors. All making the space where KML held their fist full rehearsal of the upcoming production Killing My Lobster Pop! absolutely packed.
I only interviewed six of them, all performers in Pop! But that's enough to tell the Lobsters are all about diversity in cast and concept.
"What's great [about the group's dynamic] is there's room for all different kinds of funny," said actor/writer Melanie Case.
"It's not all dick and fart jokes," agreed Jon Wolanske. This was emphasized moments later as a not-so-discreet gaseous (gassy?) noise issued from his corner of the room.
As the incident recurred periodically through the next couple of questions accompanied always by fits of giggles, Case finally declared it keeps being funny because "he's so good at making that noise."
This candid ability to recognize fellow actors' diverse strengths helps out when it comes to putting together a show, since these productions are usually collaborations. The variety of people involved results in, to use Wolanske's words, a veritable "goulash" of material.
The shows (they've done more than 15 original production since 1996) always have a theme and a song-and-dance finale, which helps enormously with the writing process, by both limiting a focusing ideas. Once a theme is set, founding member Daniel Lee said they collect as many ideas as possible, then pare them down to fit time constraints. Good bits of unsuccessful sketches sometimes resurface in an entirely different context: there's rumor of a hidden "kitty" of half-baked sketches somewhere in the lime-green walls of the Lobster offices.
The "comedic vignettes for the almost famous," which make up Pop! all revolve around the notion of fame and popularity.
Somewhat ironic since Killing My Lobster is reaching levels of fame themselves.
"When I auditioned and joined the group," recalled Emily Helfgot, "my friends were all like, 'They're famous! You're famous!'"
Case said it was the same with her, except with an awed whisper and popping eyes: "But, they're famous!" (tense pause...followed by stressed whisper of realization...) "You're going to be famous too!"
"The word, the phrase, is stuck in the back of the heads of the Bay Area," said Wolanske. The proof is in the track record: KML sell out venues and boast a loyal following of fans and volunteers.
As someone who's been there from the beginning, Lee had a slightly different perspective of this phenomenon: "It's always been, and will be, something I started doing in college. I'm amazed that it's gotten so much recognition."
Case notes that, despite their own excitement at the prospect of stardom, perhaps the fame shouldn't come as a surprise: "We're all funny, talented, attractive people. That's right, attractive! We're all lucky to work together."
But stardom doesn't come cheap, as Lobster Patty Wortham put it, "It's like being part of a church or a cult. I don't just show up, I have bake sales I have to go to. It's a community."
It's this drive and ability to organize themselves that sets the group apart. Killing My Lobster has practically become a brand name. The group has a prolific logo, a extensive website, offers plenty of "branded" merchandise and attaches its names to events other than its own stage work.
KML runs as a self-professed production company. Different members can be found across town hosting informal talent cabaret benefits and testing new material on local public access. Other simultaneous projects range from appearing at festivals like the San Francisco Sketchfest to making award-winning short films to producing the annual Hi/Lo Film Festival, giving other filmmakers a chance to showcase their (not necessarily comic) ability.
Helfgot, who is also a teacher, explained that the appeal of comedy for her is that it's an outlet for her inner child of sorts. "Doing this helps me not get jealous of six-year-olds," she said, describing the odd feeling that accompanies disciplining schoolchildren for citing out in ways she might do herself onstage just hours later. "I mean, who should listen to me?"
Lots of people, it seems, are at least starting to pay attention. Killing My Lobster has been compared to Kids in the Hall, Monty Python, and Second City. Comedy Central called them "an orgy of comic genius."
KML proved their genius orgy when their seventh short film, Sunday Afternoon, won a Golden Spire Award and screened at the 2000 Sundance Film Festival.
"We've reached certain milestones," said Daniel. "That was definitely one that catapulted our visibility." The film was eventually bought by Atom Films and can be viewed online.
Despite growing recognition from local and national performing communities, KML's goals don't lie far from their roots in classic sketch comedy.
At the top of the agenda in getting their own theater. It would be a space where the group can develop more plans, including a comedy class, and share their passion for comedy with the community that has supported them so well.
In the meantime, the Lobsters are keeping it real, writing, acting, producing, sharing and finding all new humorous endeavors that they can add to their already formidable repertoire, undoubtedly relishing the fact that funny can mean different things to different people.
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