Divine Comedy: Reflections

Last night I went to the 9 PM Divine Comedy show.  This show was important to me for two principal reasons.  First, it was the last show for Jason, Mallory, and Whitney.  Their departure means that no one who was part of Divine Comedy’s cast concurrently with me remains in the group.  My “generation” is gone.  Whitney also joined the group the same year I did, so her departure marks the end of my “class” in the group.  Second, Stephen formally asked Whitney to marry him during the half-time portion of the show.  Both of these events have caused me to reflect about Divine Comedy, my time in it, and the people who I worked with.    Please enjoy this largely unrelated collection of thoughts.  

Joining Divine Comedy

I actually auditioned for Divine Comedy twice, and barely made it in my second time.  My first audition wasn’t good enough for a call-back.  (Although, I ultimately recycled the idea into a great sketch).  After being rebuffed, I applied to work as Divine Comedy’s house manager.  I never heard back.  Once I finally made it into Divine Comedy, I found my own e-mail in the group e-mail account, and some accompanying discussion about how they should call me in to see if I was a good fit.  Fortunately, that never happened, because if I had worked as house manager I probably wouldn’t have ever wound up as a cast member.  I also considered joining Laugh Out Loud, BYU’s improve comedy ensemble.  They don’t have auditions.  I tried to go to one of their practices, but it was cancelled for some reason.  Another happy accident.  If I had managed to join Laugh Out Loud, I probably wouldn’t have re-auditioned for Divine Comedy.

My second audition merited a callback.  At callbacks, I went through Divine Comedy’s signature blend of writing a group work.  After callbacks, I felt like I had had a great experience, and would be satisfied regardless of the ultimate outcome.  When I didn’t get a call on Saturday, I thought DC had made their choice, and I wasn’t on the roster.  

Much to my surprise, the following Sunday night, I got a call from Sarah Kelley of Divine Comedy.  We were playing board games with our friends the Wellses.  I can remember that Sarah invited me to join the cast, and then I heard the now-familiar roar of the entire cast on the other end of the line.  After the invitation was extended, I responded with “you want me to be in Divine Comedy?”  I actually initially thought there had been some mistake, and I asked Sarah why they wanted me compared to some of the other great people who had auditioned.  Despite my protestations, she said they wanted me.  I told her to extend my regards to the group, especially to Matt, who Sarah and I loved particularly well as fans. Sarah instructed me to meet her at the HFAC the next day so we could get the paperwork taken care of.   When I met Sarah at the HFAC, Natalie Madsen was with her.  Natalie asked me simply “how was your weekend?”  Her question seemed oddly pedestrian, given that I felt like I was in the company of heroes.  

During my first few months in Divine Comedy, I felt totally outclassed.  Indeed, initially, I was totally outclassed.  The group, however, was welcoming, and I learned a lot, very quickly.  I started writing sketches.  Whenever I thought I was doing a good job, things were brought into perspective by the loving, but stern criticism given to us by George Nelson, Divine Comedy’s faculty adviser.  George would attend our focus group shows, and provide feedback.  He brought his decades of experience to bear on our rag-tag production, and his merciless critiques helped us be better than we would have been alone.  

After some time in the group, I asked Matt and Natalie about why I got a call on Sunday night instead of Saturday.  I explained I thought I got in because someone else said no.  Reluctantly, Matt revealed that I was right; someone else was called before me, but that person (in what I can only assume was a fit of madness) declined the invitation because his school and work schedule was too busy.  

So when I say I barely made it into Divine Comedy, I mean it.

Thoughts About the Members of My Generation

Jason, Mallory, and Whitney each made a unique contribution to Divine Comedy.

Jason is a man of a thousand characters.  Divine Comedy fans remember him as Dobby, Kohor the RA, The Phantom of the Awkward, the Allstate Mayhem guy, the Dancer from Paso Del Freshmen, and perhaps most memorably, Severus Snape.  

Before becoming a cast member, Mallory was Divine Comedy’s videographer.  Her skills as a director/camerawoman/editor are not equaled.  See for yourself.  Below is an excellent pre-Mallory video.  It’s funny, but watch the second video and you can see how her skills took our productions to the next level.

Pre-Mallory:

Post-Mallory

Whitney impressed me because of the variety of dramatically different sketches she would turn out.  Sketches like Chatterboxes, Subtitles, Sues Clues, Honest Code, Mandatory Health Plan and countless others.  Her writing was the furthest thing from formulaic.  Each of the above sketches are funny for entirely different comedic reasons.  

The Benefits of Departure and Renewal

As sad as it is to see these great writers and actors leave, constantly refreshing the cast is one of the key practices that makes Divine Comedy what it is.  If great actors just stayed in the stage show forever, it would probably get stale.  Adding new people brings in new voices and new writing styles, and makes sure that the group is willing to try new things and take new risks.  I know that when great writers and actors like Laurel Sandberg-Armstrong, Natalie Madsen, Mary Hedengren, and Scott Fleming left, many people wondered how such talent could be replaced.  Truth be told, they weren’t replaced.  In their places, however, came new talent who re-invented Divine Comedy and made it their own.  

When Dana Fleming joined Divine Comedy, she brought modern dance with her.  Modern dance gave us some great sketches.  Matt’s most iconic character, Shoulder Angel (and its more recent incarnations), has become a Divine Comedy Staple.  Whitney and Mallory used their vocal talents to create some of Divine Comedy’s greatest musical numbers.  Jeremy Warner’s oddly compelling stage presence opened up whole new categories of humor.  Even now, Adam Berg’s exploration of physical humor is blazing new trails for the group.  Kenny Baldwin has begun to show his hand as a spectacularly innovative writer with heretofore untouched ideas, like 1-800-ABRACADABRA and Happiest Man in The World.  

All that said, some might still be tempted to say that the Matt-Mallory-Jason-Whitney grouping is unusually talented, and that their presence will represent some kind of a high water mark for Divine Comedy.  I disagree.  I think Divine Comedy will continue to attract top talent.  There are other great writers and actors out there, and the best is yet to come.  That said, the unusual quality of the Matt-Mallory-Jason-Whitney grouping did make something possible that wouldn’t, and probably couldn’t, have happened without them...

Studio C

When I joined Divine Comedy, we were struggling to put out a basic DVD.  During my last year in the group, it took heroic organizational exertions by the presidency, and hours of tedious labor by Mal, to get “Divine Comedy – Rough Cut” ready for production.  There was idle chatter about some more enduring kind of production than the stage show, but nothing really materialized.  Personally, I pondered a podcast.  During my tenure in the group, BYU broadcasting turned down our pitch for  a recurring TV show.  Then some magical things happened.  I am not fully acquainted with the whole story, because it occurred after I left the group.  I’ll leave that story to others more qualified to write it.  Suffice it to say, many obstacles were miraculously removed, and BYU Broadcasting realized they had a golden opportunity to produce a very compelling television offering.  I suspect one aspect of the enduring legacy of Matt-Mallory-Jason-Whitney will be that they had what it took to establish a robust beach head in a new content category.  

 

I have been doing a little freelance writing for Studio C.  It has been a conduit of fresh air into the often asphyxiating experience of law school.  Studio C’s very existence already surpasses what, I think, many people in Divine Comedy would have  realistically though possible.    There is a grand future ahead of Studio C, and I am overjoyed to be present for such a time as this.  

Divine Comedy as a Temporary Separation from Reality

One of my favorite aspects of Divine Comedy is how performing in a show temporarily separates you from the world and isolates you in a tiny, self-contained reality.  Nowadays, I have multiple e-mail accounts, dozens of deliverables and relationships to manage, and a constant stream of information attacking me through my phone and my computer.  When performing in a divine comedy show, the whole world outside the auditorium is effectively shut off.  One has a rare opportunity to be entirely present in the show itself, with no distractions from the past or the future.  

The Moment of Unknown Change And Whitney’s Engagement

Anyone who has been though the Divine Comedy audition process with me knows that one of my favorite things about it is what I call the “Moment of Unknown Change.”  I’ll explain.  After Divine Comedy has ponderously, and prayerfully, selected new cast members, there is a brief moment in between when they have been selected and when we call the new cast member to formally extend the invitation.  I call this time the Moment of Unknown Change.  Being granted a cast position in Divine Comedy is an absolutely life-altering experience.  The new cast member is essentially being adopted into a new family.  Sarah and I have come to love the cast and crew of Divine Comedy in a profound and long-lasting way.  The new cast member will also have new joys and new sorrows the likes of which have been categorically unknown to him or her.  The first time I hurled glow sticks into the roaring audience during the opening moments of a Divine Comedy show, I experience an entirely new category of joy.  Therefore, during the time between selection and invitation, the new cast member’s whole future has changed.  The trajectory of her life has pivoted, and brand new avenues have opened, but she herself does not yet realize this.  Hence, the Moment of Unknown Change.  

I have always found the Moment of Unknown Change to be profoundly beautiful.  For me, it is as if time itself holds its breath for a moment.  The universe watches expectantly, waiting for the Unknown Change to be revealed.  Once the reveal occurs, the universe crashes about the new cast member, in her radically altered destiny.  

 

I was therefore delighted to get to share a Moment of Unknown Change with Whitney this past Saturday.  Before the 9 P.M. show  began, I enjoyed a backstage conversation with her wherein we reminisced about DC shows past, and talked about her­­ imminent departure from the stage show.  While we chatted, I delighted in the knowledge that Stephen would propose that night.  It was a Moment of Unknown Change; a definitive life event was about to take place, and Whitney herself had no idea.  When Whitney finally learned what was in store for her that night, she, and most of those present, were left with memories that will last a lifetime.