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.