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Charlie Hatton
Brookline, MA
Charlie’s Standup Comedy Journal
First things first, folks — let’s get to the serious stuff. This show was performed at the Castleton Function Hall in Windham, NH, as part of the annual ‘Dinner, Dance, and Silent Auction’ (and, apparently, comedy) event organized by the Christina Capozzi Foundation to raise money for Shone’s Syndrome research. It’s a great night, a fantastic cause, and the proceeds go to Childrens’ Hospital in Boston, right here in my proverbial backyard. A comic friend of mine knows one of the organizers, and set it up for five of us to entertain the troops near the end of the evening. Good times.
Now, on to the good stuff: in addition to the auction, there was also a raffle for several other prizes, the most popular of which — by far — was the ‘wheelbarrow full of alcohol’. I kid you not. No word on whether the wheelbarrow was also included — but it would have to be, because I don’t see how else you’d get all that booze home, frankly. I’ve never seen that much alcohol in my life in one place — and I spend a lot of time in bars, in the land of the Kennedys, no less. This thing was impressive.
But, I didn’t win the damned thing, so let’s move on to the show. Unfortunately, the tape is a bit dark — we were on a stage set up for dancing, which means low lights, so no one has to see the ‘moves’ Uncle Eddie is busting out after a few Miller Lites. Or a wheelbarrowful of alcohol, even. So things look a bit grainy. And that’s okay — in the spirit of the evening, I put on a nice button-down shirt to perform… and I don’t want you people to see me like that. I clean up for weddings and funerals, and that’s about it. So don’t look too close, all right?
Apart from that, it was a good time up in NH. The crowd was a little unnerving, just due to its sheer size — there were people at tables on both sides of me, and five or six tables deep in front. A few people were chatting — and some were memorizing their raffle ticket numbers — but there were enough folks into the performers to make it feel like a ‘show’. And lots of money was raised for charity. And now we can say we’ve ‘played New Hampshire’ — everybody wins!
Download Clip of 04/01/05 Set —
CCF Dinner Dance, Windham, NH (5 minutes, 19 seconds):
(Click photo to enlarge)
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As a performer, the first thing you notice about the room at Kennedy’s is that it’s so nice. Nay — nay, if I may borrow from my Iron Chef friends, it’s downright luxurious. And with most of our shows being held in dingy dive bars and out-of-the-way attics and basements, an upscale room — with leather chairs and solid wooden tables, no less — is kind of a treat.
Of course, as someone watching this clip from Kennedy’s, the first thing you’ll likely notice is that there’s really not much light in the place. Which, come to think of it, might be a big factor in why the room seems ‘nice’ in the first place. Who knows — in the harsh light of day, maybe the place is as ratty and squalid as a ghetto speakeasy. But I doubt it – and anyway, I’ll likely never see it by the light of day, so I’m holding on to my initial positive impression, nonetheless. A leather-bound, darkly-lit fantasy beats the hell out of the alternative any day.
(And yeah, I know what you were thinking when I got into the ‘leather-bound and dark’ stuff. Get your mind out of the panty drawer, would ya? Perv.)
Anyway, this was my second trip to Kennedy’s, and it’s a great place to spend a Monday night. I caught up with some old friends, made a new friend or two, and had a fantastic time of it. Plus, it was good to get back onstage — even if you can’t actually see me onstage in the vdeo clip. But due to travel and illness, I hadn’t burdened hapless strangers with a joke for over a week, so I consider this sort of a ‘getting back on the horse’ event.
(And if you squint really hard at the video, maybe you can even see the horse. Or a ghost. Or Aretha Franklin. Hell, it’s so dark, you can tell yourself it’s anything up there. If I hadn’t accidentally caught the streetlight outside the window in the shot, there’d be nothing but black. As it is, you get one bright spot of light, and shades of dark gray — that counts as ‘ambience’, folks. Soak it up.)
Amyway, have a look, if you dare. The sound is still passable, so you can treat it like an audio tape, maybe. Just take my word for it that Kennedy’s is far, far nicer than it looks on tape. Or hey — if you don’t believe me, then come down some Monday and check it out for yourself. Just don’t bring a flashlight or anything, just in case — we don’t want to ruin the ‘ambience’, now, do we?
Download Clip of 03/21/05 Set —
Kennedy’s Midtown, Boston, MA (7 minutes, 26 seconds):
(Click photo to enlarge)
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For a full explanation of exactly what’s going on here, you probably want to have a look at my last Isle set, from last week.
(Or, if the ‘C-word’ bit in the title shocked you, then you probably want to check out one of my other sets, instead. I promise these are the only two that have any reference to the ‘C-word’ — and I’m just about to switch over to using the word, because it’s much easier to type. You’ve been warned.)
So, for those of you too lazy to look up that last show, here’s a brief synopsis: the past two weeks at the Isle, we’ve had one audience member: a giggly, friendly, somewhat raunchy Sicilian lass who comes with one of the comics. And she’s famous — at the shows, anyway — for her use of the word ‘cunt’. Which, as training-to-be-professional comics, we feel obligated to match, onstage.
At least, I do. Some comics handle the challenge differently; we’ve all got our own little color in the rainbow, I suppose. Some people talk to her during their set, others go off on tangents she might like, and still others get dirty — but not necessarily cunty. To each his own.
Me, I’ve taken it as a challenge: find three (for three shall be the number of the counting, and the number of the counting shall be three) places in my material to slap in a ‘cunt’, and try to make this girl laugh. Because when she does — hoo boy. She’s a giggler, folks, and that’s like snorting coke to a comic. Sending someone into hysterics is what it’s all about.
(Except for the comics who actually do snort coke, I suppose. For them, it’s probably very similar, but not quite like snorting coke. Because snorting coke is like snorting coke for them. See what I’m saying?)
Anyway, if seeing or hearing ‘cunt’ makes you particularly squeamish — and I have to believe that if you’ve gotten this far, it doesn’t — then feel free to check out pretty much anything else on the site. I’m not typically so liberal with the cunts myself, but hey — you gotta give the audience what they came to see. And at one point, I’m pretty sure the girl in the audience stopped breathing, so I’m thinking she was digging it. Or trying to asphyxiate herself, to end the pain. Eh, either way — at least I got a reaction, right?
Finally, just so my first comment in the clip might not seem so cryptic, the two comics before me were my good friend Daniella Capolino (performing via phone from her bedroom, no less) and local wordsmith Myq Kaplan. DC’s take on ‘Cunt Night II’ was to bust out her ‘caulk/cock’ material — which is hilarious, by the way. Go see her — preferably on stage, and not in her bedroom, but you’ll have to sort that out with her. Then Myq came to the stage, and riffed off her bit by reciting a few of the lines, but with ‘pussy’ replacing ‘cock’. Which was also highly amusing — but neither of these were cunt. And that’s what the folks came to see… or so I posited, and moved on from there.
So have a look, if that’s your thing. If nothing else, I and the audience chick had a good time — come to think of it, I’ve never had more fun with three ‘cunts’ onstage. Or anywhere else, for that matter. (Unless it was at last week’s show.) And that’s the last — for real, this time — that you’ll hear about ‘cunt’ around here for a while. Unless she shows up next week. What can I tell you? I’m a slave to the people’s will, and to my not-so-secret desire to be filthy onstage. To thine own ‘cunt’ be true, right?
Download Clip of 03/09/05 Set —
Emerald Isle, Dorchester, MA (7 minutes, 2 seconds):
(Click photo to enlarge)
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I wouldn’t count this as the best set I’ve done at the Studio, but it’s at least the longest, to date, which is soemthing.
(And longer with permission, too — a couple of comics had cancelled that night, so Rick gave us a bit of leeway to take some extra time. Which was much appreciated in my case, as I’m prepping for a long set in a couple of days. Actually, I wish I’d packed another minute or two of material in there. You always hate to leave stage time on the table.)
The crowd on this particular Thursday was smallish and a bit subdued — though as a comic, you don’t blame the crowd for that. Just a couple of weeks ago, on a Wednesday in the same room with a similar crowd, I watched DJ Hazzard pick that audience up, throw them on his back, and take them for a five-to-seven minute ride that they’ll not soon forget. That’s the kind of performance that teaches you that it’s possible.
(Of course, it would have been more useful if I’d also learned how he did that… but I suppose you’ve got to learn one lesson at a time around here. Baby steps, I’m told. Baby steps.)
Anyway, I had a lot of fun on stage, as always, and did get a few laughs for my troubles. Of course, what I’ll probably remember most from the night is the conversation we had afterwards, at the bar downstairs. My buddy Ken — a non-comic ‘civilian’ came out to watch, and I’m afraid we may have jarred his perception of reality with our post-show shenanigans.
(All the details I’m really allowed to give can be found in this post.
Check out the ‘Thursday’ section for more details that you really probably want.)
In any case, it’s another clip for the archives, and another entertaining, exciting, surreal night at the Comedy Studio. Which is pretty much what I signed up for when I started this little hobby, so what’s to complain about, eh? It sure as hell beats a night of American Idol and a TV dinner on the couch, I’ll guarantee you that.
Download Clip of 03/03/05 Set —
Comedy Studio, Cambridge, MA (8 minutes, 8 seconds):
(Click photo to enlarge)
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(Warning: If any of you are particularly sensitive to hearing or seeing the ‘C word’, you probably don’t want to go any further here. Check out another clip instead, or read any random post. You see, I’m not afraid to use the ‘C word’, but generally keep it under my hat when it comes to blogging or doing standup. Of course, if you’re now intrigued as to why this show is an exception to the rule… by all means, read on. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.)
In many ways, this was another typical night at the Emerald Isle — an astronomical comic-to-audience-member ratio, good times, comic friends, and an informal feel throughout. In fact, with respect to that first point, there was only one audience member. But she’s what made the night special, too. Let me explain.
You see, the audience-of-one came courtesy of one of the other comics. And she was a laugher. A loud, generous, bordering-on-hysterical laugher. And that’s gold for a comic — like a heroin hit to a junkie, people. In a crowd of a few dozen polite folks, all it takes is one or two true laughers to get them going, and turn an okay show into a great show. In this case, having her there turned a potentially depressing, quiet show into entertainment all around. So that was key.
Ah, but her influence didn’t stop there. Apparently — and I got there late, so I missed it — somewhere near or before the beginning of the show, our favorite crowd member called someone a ‘nasty old cunt’. No one actually present, mind you, and I never heard exactly who she was talking about — a boss, or old teacher, maybe even her grandmother. Who knows? What I do know is that this single act of wanton profanity kicked her up several notches in the eyes of the comics. If we liked her for her laugh, we loved her for her ‘cunt’.
(Yes, that was in quotes. Don’t get any ideas, there, scooter. Ain’t no ‘comic orgies’ going on down in Dorchester. Keep yer pants on.)
Anyway, I tell you that to tell you this — when my turn came to go onstage, I decided to have a little fun. I wasn’t really trying anything new; I was just practicing old bits for an upcoming longer set I’m putting together. So I decided, in honor of our giggly guest, to sprinkle her favorite word into my set. So I littered three ‘cunt’s into my act, just to keep her entertained, and to say thanks.
(And I seem to have succeeded with the ‘entertained’ part. The best reactions I got were on cunt-ified lines. Makes me wonder about a whole new direction for my comedy. Yeah… not really.)
So, that’s the explanation/excuse. If you’re not terribly cunt-shy, the clip is worth a look, just to hear her laugh. And if you’ve read this far, you’ve already seen as many ‘cunt’s as you’d hear on the clip, so you shouldn’t be too shocked.
(And yes, if you’re counting, that’s five, instead of three. Even in my standup, I apparently follow the first rule of essay writing — tell ’em what you’re going to tell ’em, tell ’em, and then tell ’em what you told ’em. So there’s an extra ‘C bomb’ at the beginning and end, in addition to the three ‘official’ ones.)
Anyway, there you go. Not necessarily my proudest moment in comedy, perhaps, but it was a bit of fun. And it shows adaptability, right? I’m not sure I could sculpt my comedy to entertain a room full of nuns, or any shit like that — but this kind of situation? Yeah, this is right up my alley. Nice talk, eh?
Download Clip of 03/02/05 Set —
Emerald Isle, Dorchester, MA (7 minutes, 34 seconds):
(Click photo to enlarge)
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