A blue sign hangs over the door, saying that Barrow space is available for renting. Hmm. I never gave much thought on how to book a theater. My improv troupe Mixed Signals had done it on numerous occasions, but it was always someone else orchestrating it. I had no idea how or what to do.
I've got an inherent fear that anything I'm currently clueless about will remain clueless to me forever. Currently, I don't know cars, medical insurance, or the insides of a computer. There�s plenty of other ones (Crimean War, cricket, and Chinese dynasties, just to list a couple of the Cs) but it's the first list that are the real sticklers, because real life problems crop up in that first list. The second list means I just lose an imaginary $32,000 when I watch Millionaire.
One of those ignorant areas was organizing events, specifically plays. How did people do it? Were there books written on the subject? Were there giant obstacles to overcome I had no idea even existed? I figured I'd learn this by proxy as soon as I was in a play, but I still haven't been in a play (I'm a lousy audition, possibly a lousy actor on top of that but I'll never know until I get a play and actually act). Booking some shows and putting them together would be a guaranteed way to know, and hopefully some cash for the troupe as well.
The downside of living in New Jersey (aside from the toxic waste and the traffic and the guidos and all) is there's no central hub. Mixed Signals is based by our campus in the Trenton area, but if we set up a hub in Trenton, that would alienate people who don't live nearby (as well as scare off anyone who's (justifiably) scared of Trenton). If we set it in Princeton, that would alienate a different group of people. If we set it anywhere, it would alienate someone. We're screwing people no matter where we step, so I might as well book shows 50 miles from home base.
My long term goal in this was to get Mixed Signals a regular paying gig. We do bar mitzvahs and birthday parties and anything else you want to hire us for, but the shows we've set up ourselves have had all the regularity of Strom Thurmond. Different venues, different parts of the state, sometimes in different states. We've got a great audience on campus, but they're free shows and we still can't find a campus spot to perform regularly. Most 'professional' troupes have shows in 'their' space every week, and I was hoping Mixed Signals could get one of its own. Since there's no good location for a show, we might as well try Jersey City, see if it'll work there.
My worries about booking a theater were completely unfounded. All you do is call the theater and ask to book it. They find a date that they're not busy with and works for you, and you're done.
I picked December 15 and 16 as the dates, because all the campus people were still on campus and not scattered to the four winds of their homes. It didn't conflict with any events on campus, although finals are right afterward. Not the best dates, but it's that or some time in February, and I was making this call in September so February seemed like the year 3000.
I really had an easy route as far as producing goes, since it's an improv troupe that knows its stuff. I didn't have any worries on the production end. No auditions, no picking a cast, no teaching them their lines, no finding a script, no staging the play, no having to direct, no costuming, no setting lights, no lighting cues, no props, no furniture, no tech crew, no dress rehearsals, no playbills, no nothing. Mixed Signals is plug and play. This would be pure publicity.
Of course, publicity's the hard part. A poorly attended improv show will suck. Improv feeds off of an audience. Bands can play in the background and, although not being the main focus of the bar, can perform well if anyone cares to listen. Doing improv doesn't work that way. We need to get a certain number of butts in the seats to generate the response that gets a show juiced. And it would also be nice to make back the money to rent the place.
I asked some Barrow people how they publicized their shows, and they told me it was notices in the local papers. They're was free, thousands read them, and we'd be stupid not to use it. And they pumped up their friends and family to see the shows, of course.
Mixed Signals has had luck with newspapers in 2000. We did a show at a Knights of Columbus in March, and sent a press packet (fledgling improv groups/bands/whatever: make yourself a press packet. Now.) to the Home News Tribune. From that, we got a story written about us, a huge free plug for the show that packed the KoC. We also did some shows in August, and sent out more press packets, this time with photos. We got another story written about us for the Home News Tribune (complete with picture), and a big listing right on the events page of the Star-Ledger's weekend pullout (complete with picture).
I work at a magazine, so I know how much editors like getting sent everything they're looking for in a story. One section of my magazine is devoted to new products, and is compiled from the press releases I get sent. All I need is a color photo and a few facts about the product (any facts will do). And I have tremendous trouble filling the six slots every two months. So many press releases don't have a photo, or the text is meaningless fluff, or the photo is awkwardly shot so I can't use it. The new products section is essentially free advertising, and STILL I can't get six in two months. I've given an unfair amount of exposure to companies that have good press releases, just because they make my life easier. And Mixed Signals got the same nice treatment from the papers, because we made their lives easier.
And we'd do it again. We'd send out the press releases to all the local papers (the Jersey Journal, the Jersey City Reporter, and two alternative weeklies) and let the free advertising roll in. I'd also whip up some flyers and get them everywhere they'd be effective, and the shows would be packed like the bathroom during the Zeppo parts of a Marx Brothers movie.
I put some jokes in the flyer, flattering pull quotes from Abraham Lincoln and Shakespeare, along with the one real quote from New Jersey Online about laughing yourself almost to death. Funny, conveys information, and establishes a rep for us.
The flyers went two places. First was the Barrow. It had a performance of Other People'$ Money in November, and in the lobby is always a table full of flyers for upcoming events. I dropped a bunch there, and a woman called for reservations the very next day. Second was local colleges. College kids are great for an improv audience. If they're paying their ten bucks, they can shout all the 'Viagra' and 'hooker' they want. There were two in Jersey City -- New Jersey City University and St. Peters -- and one in Hoboken -- Stevens. A few days before the shows, I put 15-20 flyers up in each school, focusing on the academic buildings and high traffic areas. There's usually over 100 flyers for one of our campus shows, with a full troupe to hang them. For this, it was just me and the beleaguered photocopier from work. I put them up just a few days before the show, so they wouldn't get plastered over by newer flyers, and so students wouldn't see it and then forget. It was right before finals for all those colleges as well, but life ain't perfect.
Two papers called back to confirm times and dates. Each of the non-alternative papers owned one of the alternative weeklies, so two shared editorial boards would mean all four of the papers now have our facts straight. We weren't able to send photos with the press packets since we were out of photos, but they'd be printing our info, so all was good. I hit a Target for all the refreshments between shows. Soda-75 cents, little bags of chips-50 cents, candy-25 cents. If this all sold out we'd have nineteen dollars of cash from fifteen dollars of junk food, but having refreshments seemed like a good thing for intermission. Plus, I had no problems eating all of the leftover food.
I put a flyer up in the break room at work one night. The next morning, it's gone. Most stuff stays up for weeks, but since the flyer didn't say "FEATURING THAT GUY DOWN THE HALL WHO NEEDS A HAIRCUT" it was assumed to be just someone who broke in for the purpose of questionably effective publicity. I ended up being busy at work the next few days, and forgot to put up a second poster explaining that this wasn't just some random publicity hound fresh from spackling a toll booth with band stickers. No one from work made it to a show.
Friday came. I grabbed a Jersey Journal, the daily paper, and flip to the weekend section. There's the listing of all the happenings over the past week, and we're not there. I checked other sections of the paper, and we're not there, either. After calling to confirm our information, the paper decided not to run us. I don't know why.
Ditto for the Jersey City Reporter, the weekly. This one's kinda our fault. It only publishes once a week, so if they publish on Tuesday and our packet reaches on Wednesday, we're out of luck if it's plugging this weekend. Next time, we'll send them out at least two weeks in advance.
After work, I got to the theater at 6:45 to set up chairs. Most of them were old wooden folding chairs I hadn't seen before. Maybe this was the standard before metal folding chairs took dominance. Did old time wrestlers like Classy Freddie Blassie hit people with these wooden guys? A question for the ages.
The Mixed Signals who could make it to Friday's show began appearing, and immediately begin exploring the Barrow. They found a ten burner stove in the giant basement kitchen. I could see why colonial kitchens were in the basement, letting the stoves heat the whole house.
The chairs were set, the piano moved, the refreshments out, all that was needed was a set list. It's exactly like the set list of a band. We try to get the games we know in an order that leads to a good show. Something easy to understand at the beginning, for those who haven't seen improv before. A balance of scene games and games where it's just people saying funny things works nicely throughout. Each half should end on a high note, preferably something where the whole cast is involved. Then you plug the cast in. Most people can do everything (musical games are the exception) so it's mostly making sure no one's in three games in a row and then unseen for the rest of the performance. It's not all that tough, but it takes five or ten minutes just to write out, and I didn't have that time to spend.
After getting it down on paper, I wrote a second copy. Normally we have two groups of people, one on either end of the stage, and having two set lists let anyone see their next game without having to tramp across the room. It's a little stupid since the stage is set for us all to be on one side (empty space and a fake white Christmas tree are on the other side) but it was half done when I realized this so I finished it.
During this time the reservation woman and her friends walk in, our first customers. There's five of them, and they're almost insulted that they went through the hassles of reservations and then find the seats all empty. I tried to say something about having an overflowing house be a problem we'd like to have, but it came out wrong and I just made the woman walk away unimpressed.
The troupe members were telling me that this is probably going to be a Jersey City practice. At our practices, we do games for an audience of no one. I had trouble believing this, since all that advertising had to have done something. The colleges, the papers, the OPM audience, that had to draw at least a few people in. I checked my watch, and it was past 8:00. I was officially living on Barrowed time now.
We ran into the kitchen, did a quick warmup, and then went onstage. It was a ska band scenario: the performers outnumbered the audience. But for a five person audience, they were responsive as hell. Watching TV by yourself, you don't laugh when something's funny. With other people, you do. Improv's the same way. The magic number between laughing and staring at the stage dully is usually not five. But in this case, it was. They laughed, gave suggestions, and really made the show for us. I can honestly say, pound per pound, this was our best audience.
I didn't book myself in many first half games, so I stuck around the lobby in case other people came in. I heard the door open, and it was just someone from the Barrow who had business in the basement. I heard the door open again, and it was my dad. That was a surprise. I sent an email out about the show, and he was able to swing by with his friend. So that was two more tickets sold, two more butts in the seats.
The show went very well, all things considered. With a smaller audience we had freedom to make characters instead of 100% jokes. Doing a dumb funny thing every line would fall flat as soon as the five (now seven) got tired of a dumb funny thing every line. We didn't fall into any pitfalls that low turnouts usually spring.
Saturday I was dreading. We wouldn't have the luck to have two small great audiences. We needed either a big enough number so we could do a decent show, or zero so we could cut bait and leave. We got zero. We practiced on the stage for a bit, to earn that rental space money.
And then more Barrow exploration. Behind a door that should have but wasn't locked, I found a pool room. Off of that, I found a two lane bowling alley, from before automatic pin setting was invented. I proudly showed my find to the others and they bowled a ceremonial frame or two while I prayed and prayed they weren't antique pins that would shatter when a ball hit them, or that a Barrow employee would catch us. They weren't, and we weren't.
The shows were a failure. No one shows up, that�s by any definition a failure. I lost thirty bucks renting the Barrow, plus I never bothered to reimburse myself for the refreshments (the few who touched them were mostly fellow Mixed Signals), so that�s another two or three bucks down the crapper. And I wasted the weekends of a half dozen fellow improvers for no money.
But I don't feel like a failure. I probably should, but I don't. I learned not to stray too far from home base in setting up a show, especially during finals weekend. And to advertise a student discount. And to not set up shop in Jersey City, which people are (justifiably) afraid of. And to get those press packets out, with pictures, as early as possible.
I'm certainly not doing this again in Jersey City, but I don't regret it. I found a historic bowling alley. I put $100 in the kitty for the Barrow. Seven people got entertained. I've got enough individually wrapped snack food to last me to March. My friends got to meet my dad, and vice versa. I found a cool Cuban restaurant after the show and got to hang out there twice with friends. And we did some decent improv.
The shows bombed, but I don't feel like I did. Make of it what you will.